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ROBA D' ITALIA

OE,

ITALIAN LIGHTS AND SHADOWS ;

A RECORD OF TRAVEL.

BY
CHARLES WILLIAM HECKETHORN,
AUTHOR OI'
" SECRET SOCIETIES," TBAH3LATOK, OI? THE " FKITHIOF SABA,"
ETC. ETC.

IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.

Hontron :
SAMUEL TINSLEY,
10, SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND.
1875.
[All rights reserved.]

CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

SECTION V. PAGE
FROM NAPLES TO VENICE ... 2
SECTION VI.
VENICE. Chapter I. A String of Venetian Beads . 18
„ II. A Night on the Lagoon . . 86
„ III. Palace Hunting . . . 138
SECTION VII.
MILAN  184
SECTION VIII.
NICE  206
SECTION IX.
FROM NICE TO GENOA . . . .246

. 266

. 280
SECTION XII.
FROM FLORENCE TO DOMO D' OSSOLA . . 314
SECTION XIII.
THE SIMPLON . . 330

SECTION X.

GENOA .

.

/

SECTION XI.

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE.

ROBA D' ITALIA.

SECTION" V.

FROM NAPLES TO VENICE.
Boatmen a Rapacious Race — Pleasure of being on the Sea — The
great End of Travel — The Islands of Monte Cristo, Elba, and
Corsica — Parallel in the Lives of Napoleon and Dantes —
Attempted Swindling at Pistoja — Beauty of the Road across
the Apennines — Ferrara, Tasso's Prison and Ariosto's House
and Tomb — Padua and the Inventor of the Pianoforte.

VOL. II.

ROBA D' ITALIA.

FROM NAPLES TO VENICE.
As I had been deprived, by circumstances over
which I had no control, as Mr. Micawber would have
said, of my anticipated sea-trip from Civita Vecchia
to Naples, I was determined to have it on leaving
this latter place. Finding that the French steamer
"Provence" would leave Naples for Leghorn on
Sunday, the 8th of June, I requested a Neapolitan
friend to go and engage a boat to take me to the
steamer. He made arrangements with a boatman
to await my coming with my luggage in the
afternoon ; but when I reached the port, or rather
the gate opening on it, beyond which carriages
are not allowed to go, the man who ought to
have been waiting for me was not there. A whole
army, however, of boatmen, seeing the arrival of
a stranger with luggage, immediately surrounded
me. I picked out one of them to bargain with,
for the boatmen of Naples are as rapacious a set

PROM NAPLES TO VENICE. 6
as their professional brethren below London Bridge,
and, in fact, anywhere else. He had, it seemed,
two coadjutors, who all joined in the negotiation.
I had some notion of what I ought to pay for
myself and my luggage, which was somewhat large
in quantity, and I knew that the demands they
were making were extortionate.
I should never have come to an understanding,
as all three were talking with the utmost volubility,
and gesticulating at the same time as if they
were acting a pantomime, if I had not said,
"Who of you is the master?" to which one
of them replied, "I am!" — "Very well," I con
tinued, " then you others hold your tongues; I
will arrange with your master." I merely mention
this as a piece of advice to other travellers; if
they will answer every one, nothing will ever be
settled. Having, for the sake of peace, agreed to
give about double what they were entitled to ask,
— but there was no policeman or harbour official
to appeal to, and on being overcharged while
travelling I think it best always to follow the old
philosopher's advice : —
" Pay, pay, pay the unconscionable deceiver,
For what would be the good of bilious fever ? "
B 2

ROBA D' ITALIA.

— my luggage was deposited in the boat, and we
went on board the steamer.
After having satisfied the marine harpies, they
further demanded some drink-money, and two or
three other men, who had meddled with my
luggage without any authority whatever, all held
out their hands for black mail. This was more
than I could stand, so I refused, and, as they
kept following me about, I applied to a lieutenant,
and he immediately ordered them all off the vessel.
Soon after we steamed out of the harbour, and at
last I was afloat on the blue Mediterranean. It
is true I had been on it in the Bay of Naples,
but then for a few hours only ; now I had a day
and a half and two nights before me. Much I
enjoyed the prospect, and more the realization.
The sea was somewhat rough, which is abso
lutely necessary to render a sea-trip pleasant to
persons who are not subject to sea-sickness,
though I admit it is very unpleasant to persons
who are — in fact, on the first day another gentle
man and myself were the only passengers that sat
down to dinner with the captain, although there
were a great many passengers. On the second
day, unfortunately for me, the sea was much

FROM NAPLES TO VENICE. 5
calmer, and the company at dinner, therefore,
much more numerous. When at sea, I generally
pass the night on deck; but about one o'clock it
came on raining so fast that I was obliged to
go below for a few hours. Towards morning we
entered the harbour of Civita Vecchia, and having,
as the reader knows, unpleasant recollections of
it, I remained on board, though we stayed there
several hours. I dislike reviving disagreeable
memories of the past ; Dante truly says : —
"  Nessun maggior dolore
Che ricordarsi del tempo felice
Nella miseria ; "
and so, conversely, it is equally true that in happi
ness it is pleasant to remember past miseries, but
then they must not be les petites miseres de la vie
humaine, but Schiller's ungeheures Schicksal ; for
while you cannot expect ever wholly to escape
from the former, and the recollection of them only
reminds you of this dismal fact, the latter, except
under peculiarly unfavourable circumstances, is not
always looming in the distance.
When we left Civita Vecchia the weather had
cleared up ; the dark-blue sky above, and the still
darker sea beneath, glittering in the bright sun,

6 ROBA D' ITALIA.
had the most exhilarating effects on everybody,
so that the lady passengers, who had hitherto
burrowed under hatches, now appeared on deck,
and made it quite lively by their presence. I
know of no mere natural means more powerful of
waking up the]" spirits of life " — the Lebensgeister
of the Germans — than gliding swiftly over the sea
in fair weather, and with a health-laden breeze
playing on your cheek. Care may follow in the
wake of the ship, but as long as it does not come
on the ship, let it follow; carpe diem ought, in
such circumstances, to be the rule ; and he who,
coming from a cold northern clime, cannot for a
time, when sailing over the bright Mediterranean,
forget the cares of this existence, which, when
not a dismal farce, is a most ridiculous tragedy,
has not yet learnt one of the great ends of travel,
viz., to make of us Laughing Philosophers, and
to get as much enjoyment out of this brief life as
it will afford, for there is sad truth in Schiller's
words : —
" Ask all the wisest men of women born,
The bliss, whereof the passing moment has been shorn,
Eternity refunds it not ! "
Towards evening we descried some of the

FROM NAPLES TO VENICE. 7
small islands which cluster around that part of
the Italian coast, Giglio, Gianutri, and, above
all, Monte Cristo, to the west of which is Corsica,
whilst northwards lies Elba — a marvellous Trinity
of islands! The first is rendered famous by
romance, the two latter by reality; and what a
romance, and what a reality ! Wild and start
ling and grandiose as is the former, the reality
is even more romantic than the romance.
Who can see or speak of Monte Cristo without
thinking of Edmund Dantes? And Corsica and
Elba naturally recall the memory of Napoleon ;
the ideal life of the one, and the actual career of
the other, both surpassing in their events the
wildest dreams of Oriental imagination. And
Monte Cristo, too, reminds us of the Napoleon of
fiction, for though Diunas did not write the
novel himself, he conceived the first idea of it,
and must have sketched its outline. And, as I
compare the lives of Dantes and the Conqueror
of Europe, I am struck by two parallel events,
which certainly were unintentional on the part
of the writers of the romance. Dantes, before
entering on his brilliant career as Count of Monte
Cristo, nearly dies in the waves of the sea; and

8 ROBA D> ITALIA.
it is matter of history that Napoleon, while as
yet holding a subaltern position in the army,
had been on the point of committing suicide by
drowning in the harbour of Toulon, when at the
last moment the act was averted by the un
expected appearance of an almost forgotten school-
friend, who relieved Napoleon's necessities, which
had driven him to despair, by handing him a
large sum in gold, after which he vanished as
suddenly as he had come. From that day Napo
leon's star was in the ascendant.
Early next morning we landed at Leghorn, a
dull town, whence I went to Pisa, concerning
which I shall say nothing for the present, as I
may have some remarks to offer at a future time.
On the same day I started for Pistoja, where I
passed the night. Care had left me on board
ship, but found me again as soon as I stepped on
shore. Having had considerable trouble with my
luggage on landing at Leghorn, I left all, except
a small portmanteau, at the railway station at
Pistoja, took a fly, and told the driver to conduct
me to a hotel, the name of which I forget. As
he drove off, a man jumped up beside him, and

FROM NAPLES TO VENICE. 9
I did not think it worth while to say anything
about it. When we arrived at the hotel, this
man took up my portmanteau, and I then thought
he was a commissionnaire from the hotel. But
on putting it down, he demanded one franc for
his trouble. I thereupon asked the waiter who
the fellow was ; he did not know. As I had not
engaged this intruder to carry my portmanteau
upstairs, which was the fly-driver's or hotel-
porter's business, and the demand for payment
was a planned swindle, I simply ordered him to
leave the room; and as he demurred, and offered
to accept half a franc, I told the waiter that
unless he rid me of the scoundrel's presence I
should at once quit the hotel. The waiter, who
perhaps was in league with the would-be ex
tortioner, asked how much he was to give him.
"As much as you like out of your own pocket,
not a cent out of mine. Clear the room, or I
go." This had the desired effect, and I was left
alone. Why do I relate so paltry an incident ? Because,
alas! such bagatelles have a great deal to do
with the pleasantness or unpleasantness of a
journey ; and also as a warning to other travellers

10 ROBA D' ITALIA.
to be on the watch against such tricks being
played, or attempted to be played, on them. It
is not so much the attack on one's purse one
resents, but the insult offered to one's intelligence
and experience ; the assumption of the traveller's
egregious folly the attempted swindle implies.
This time I emerged victoriously from the struggle,
which was more than Catiline did here sixty-two
years B.C., for he lost the battle, and was slain
near this very Pistoja. Cino, the poet, whom
Dante called il cantor $ Amore, and in whose
memory and praise Petrarch wrote the sonnet
beginning, " Piangete, donne, e con voi pianga
amore," was born here.
But the railway journey that followed com
pensated for past annoyances. Between Pistoja
and Bologna you cross the Apennines. The line
ascends to a height of several thousand feet, and
carries you through scenery which is equal, and
in many parts superior, in beauty to what you
may see on the far-famed Corniche road between
Genoa and Nice. My only companion during
the whole journey was an Italian officer, who
was bound for Milan, there to attend a kind of
scientific congress of military men, to discuss

FROM NAPLES TO VENICE. 11
questions concerning weapons, and other requisites
of war. One officer was delegated from every
regiment. This seems a highly practical -way of
going to work. That portion of the line which
crosses the Apennines, of course abounds in
specimens of engineering skill : bridges, viaducts,
and tunnels, follow each other in rapid succession.
Of the latter, there are upwards of forty, some
of considerable length. On we proceeded, towards
Bologna, famous for its leaning towers, long
arcade to S. Luca in Monte, sausages, and
beggars. Another famous city we pass is Ferrara, where
you may visit the gloomy cell in which Tasso was
for seven years shut up as a lunatic, either because
he could not keep the secret of being the favoured
lover of Lucrezia, the Duke's sister, or because
he really was mentally afflicted. How often must
the thought of his pleasant paternal home at
Sorrento, with its glorious prospect, have flashed
across his mind as he gazed on the high, blank
wall of the courtyard, which was the only view
his barred window afforded ! In the public library
of Ferrara are the MSS* of the ' Jerusalem De^-
livered ' and the ' Furious Roland ' ; also Ariosto's

12 ROBA D' ITALIA.
chair and inkstand. What a simple and yet
mysterious implement is
" The inkstand, that contains a little puddle,
And as in the Egyptian's hand, so still,
And yet therein a host of spirits huddle,
And sleep, till conjured up by steel or quill,
They roam abroad poor human brains to muddle ;
One stirs us up by coming as a bill,
Another, as a sermon, makes us drowsy,
Another, as a drinking-song, carousy.''
Ariosto's house and tomb are also to be seen
at Ferrara. On the former he placed the inscrip-
tion : — " Parva, sed apta mihi, sed nulla obnoxia, sed non
Sordida, parta meo sed tamen aere domus.''
It has been said that the Duke of Ferrara caused
the house to be built for the poet ; but the distich
shows that the Duke's liberality had nothing to
do with it. About Ferrara are the marshes,
extending over an area of nearly two hundred
square miles, to drain which an Anglo-Italian
company has lately been formed. The pumping
machinery, made by an English firm, will be the
most powerful in the world, capable of lifting
near seven hundred millions of gallons of water
a day.

FROM NAPLES TO VENICE. 13
Padua, the next important place on our way,
is worth visiting on account of many fine buildings
it contains, and because it was the residence of
famous men, such as Wallenstein, Galileo, and
Petrarch. At Arqua the latter's house and tomb
attract for ever the poetic pilgrim. Belzoni, the
famous African traveller, was a native of Padua ;
and so was Bartolo Cristofoli (about 1730), the
inventor of the pianoforte. The country around
is most charming, and abounds with numerous
elegant country-houses ; but who cares to stay to
admire them, when Venice is looming in the
distance, when in less than an hour we shall be
crossing the Lagoon, and behold the Queen of the
Adriatic rising with her mural crown out of the
limpid waters ?

SECTION VI.

VENICE.

SEOTIOIST "VT.
VENICE.

CHAPTER I.
A STRING OF VENETIAN BEADS.
Derivation of the Name Venezia — Hotel Vittoria — Was the Resi
dence of Gothe — The Scala di S. Paternian — Venice full of
Architectural Surprises in out-of-the-way Places — No Horses
now seen at Venice, though full of them in the Fifteenth
Century — The Gondola — A Delightful Conveyance — The
Gondolier, Past and Present — The Hook Swindler — I Defy
him — The Earthquake — Priests try to make Capital out of it —
How Mountaineers of Bellino explain the Earthquake — Earth
quakes at Venice since the Eleventh Century — The Piazza of
S. Marco as lively as ever on the evening of the day of the
Earthquake — Venetian Ladies famous for their Linen — Venetian
Ladies' Costumes — A Pretty Little Girl — Peculiarity in Figure
of Venetian Women — M. PhilarSte Chasles stays at Hotel
Vittoria — His Death— The Festa del Redentore Stopped on
account of the Cholera — An Aquatic Pic-nic ; a Failure — Mode
of Drawing the Lottery in the Loggia at the Foot of the
Campanile of S. Marco— View from the Campanile — Miracle
in favour of Falling Workman — Workman Killed by Bronze
Figure on top of the Clock Tower — Modern Miracles —
Cathedral of S. Marco — Attempt to Rob the Treasury — The
Story of Marino Faliero — Stupidity of Nations — The Polish
Delusion — Conspiracies agamst Doges — Death of Baiamonte
Tiepolo — Abject Conduct of Francesco Dandolo — The Power of
the Doges is gradually lessened — Spirited Conduct of Venetian
Nobles towards the Pope — Venetian Justice — Count of
Carmagnola — The Pozzi, or Subterranean Prisons in the Ducal
Palace — Francesco di Carrara — Columns on the Piazzetta — How
they were Raised — The Lion of St Mark — Abundance of
Relics — The Story of Bianca Cappello — The Ghetto — Lucrezia,
Wife of Collatinus, and Lucrezia Borgia — The Rialto —
Suggested Improvement — Four Venetian Ps — Houses of
Goldoni and Aldo.

VOL. II.

18 ROBA D' ITALIA.

CHAPTER I.
A STRING OF VENETIAN BEADS.
As in the word Roma we have the roll of grandeur
and power,
" Like organ-peal and ring of chimes,"
which are the characteristics of the Eternal City,
so in the name Venezia are comprised the beauty
and poesy of which the Queen of the Adriatic — ¦
the Palmyra of the sea, as she has poetically been
called — is the architectural and artistic realization.
Rather than admit that Venezia is derived from
the name of an ancient barbarous tribe, hailing
from Asia, I choose to consider it a corruption of
Venusia, the city of Venus, for she is beautiful
as that goddess, and, like her, she rises from the
sea; like her, she was enamoured of Mars, wit
ness the unceasing hostilities in which Venice was
engaged for centuries; like Venus, she still wears
the magic zone, the girdle of grace, — that is, the
cultivation of Art in its highest degree, by which

VENICE. 19
she shall live for evermore in the minds of men,
though her terrestrial rule, like that of Venus in
the Olympian heaven, be for ever lost; even as the
ideal Venus, the Venus of the feelings, will eternally
rule gods and men, and will for ever be born or
rising out of the one pure element, the "glassy
sea," the heaven of primeval light.
But Venice is not a city to be seen or appre
ciated in a day. At first it appears more strange
than beautiful; it is only by degrees that the
traveller discovers that here the arts enter into
combination with everything ; that Venice is the
most monumental city in the world, where the
style of every epoch and the perfection of every
art have their representatives, indicating at the
same time the great land-marks of Venetian history.
Among the most remarkable buildings in the various
styles may be mentioned — in the Byzantine, the
cathedral of St Mark ; in the Moorish, the Fondaco
dei Turchi; in the Moorish and Gothic mixed
the Ducal Palace ; in the Venetian, the Procurazie
Vecchie, the Palazzo Vendramin, the church San
Salvatore. All these edifices, moreover, are decked
with marble, adorned with granite and porphyry
encrusted with mosaics, tapestried with paintings,
c 2

20 ROBA D' ITALIA.
enriched with sculpture and bronze ; shrines, in fact,
of the chefs-d'oeuvre of artistic skill.
At Venice, where I stayed ten weeks, I lived at
the Hotel Vittoria, formerly the Hotel della Regina
d' Inghilterra, which is one of the few Italian hotels
I can recommend for cleanliness, attendance, general
comfort, and moderate charges, though once it was
the dearest hotel in Venice. Its drawback is that
it is not situated on the Grand Canal; but it is
close to it, a short and straight canal leading to
the former, while on the land side it is but a few
minutes' walk from the Piazza S. Marco. The
hotel itself consists of two separate buildings, the
one old, the other modern. This latter was erected
some eight or ten years ago; the old building,
separated from the modern by a garden, or rather
yard, full of trees, is the ancient palace Farsetti.
The family bearing that name is now extinct.
It possessed another palace on the Grand Canal,
which, though in itself a fine structure, derives
additional importance from the fact, that the
family to whom it belonged had established in
it a free school of sculpture and painting, in
which Canova received his earliest instruction.
This palace is now, with the palace Loredan

VENICE. 21
by the side of it, the seat of the Municipal
Government. Return we to the hotel. It was at this very
hotel, then the most aristocratic of Venice, that
Gothe resided during his stay in that city. My
bed-room window looked on the very bridge and
narrow calle or lane described by him, as seen
from his window, so that perhaps the room now
occupied by me was his. From the window of
another room I noticed a round tower with an
open gallery at the top surmounted by a dome
rising above the houses on the opposite side of
the narrow canal below my window. No one in
the hotel could tell me what it was, or how to
get near it, which was very vexatious, for I have
always had a passion for ascending towers. I
tried to find my way to it by looking at the
map, but the narrow lanes, blind alleys, and un
approachable courts round about the spot where
the tower is situated formed so intricate and
tangled a web, that I gave up the attempt in
despair. Hence it was not till long after my
arrival that I found my way to the tower,
thanks to a German painter, settled at Venice,
whose acquaintance I had made. To reach it,

22 ROBA DJ ITALIA.
cross the Ponte dei Fuseri, just past the land
entrance to the Hotel Vittoria, enter the narrow
lane to which it leads, take the first turning to
the left, the Calle delle Locande, and then again
the first to the left, opposite to a locanda, or
wine-shop, and you will reach the Corte del
Maltese, or Dei Risi, and on your right hand
you will behold the tower. And very sorry I
should have been to have missed seeing so graceful
a structure. It contains a winding staircase, called
the Scala di S. Paternian, and leading to the
different floors of the Palazzo Minelli, now occupied
by a confectioner.
The tower dates from the fifteenth century, and
is in the purest style of the Renaissance, an imita
tion of the tower of Pisa, though far surpassing
its model in gracefulness and elegance. Arcades
of airy lightness wind spirally around it, and
conduct to the open gallery at the top. The
central pillar is formed by the rounded ends of
the steps, of course all converging to the centre.
Seen by moonlight the tower forms a fairy-like
picture, and I advise every visitor to Venice to
go and see it. I know that but very few of the
hundreds of travellers who came to the Hotel

VENICE. 23
Vittoria during my stay there ever went near it,
or even knew of its existence, it is so hidden away.
And Venice is full of such artistic and archi
tectural surprises, stowed away in the most out-
of-the-way places and unexpected corners. In
the middle of a narrow, gloomy canal, bounded
by miserable houses, the traveller will suddenly
come upon a beautiful palace, church, or historic
monument, whose rich decorations, lace-like fret
work, in marble and semi-precious stones, contrast
strikingly with the meanness and squalor around.
There is no need to give instances, the traveller
ought to find them out himself. Let him hire a
gondola, and allow the gondolier to take him
through the smaller canals, which are not generally
visited. It is pleasant to roam about in the
forest of marble columns called Venezia. And,
as if to verify the axiom on the Table of Hermes,
that "what is below, is like what is above,"
under the foundations of Venice there are buried
whole forests and quarries; for all its buildings
are erected on piles, and defended by immense
blocks of Istrian marble, to resist the ever
destroying action of water. The existence of
Venice, like that of Holland, implies a constant

24 ROBA D5 ITALIA.
struggle with Nature, in which man has hitherto
been the conqueror.
Venice in shape somewhat resembles the Isle
of Wight, both looking like the fish called turbot ;
nor is this shape inappropriate in an island and
a city both floating in the midst of the waters.
It is, of course, this position which renders
Venice a very quiet city. Its streets are truly
"silent highways," where the rumble of a carriage-
wheel and the ring of a horse's hoof are never
heard. During my ten weeks' stay at Venice, I
did indeed once see a donkey, who seemed as
much out of place there as the traditional dog
on the Derby course. And Venetians, who never
stray far from home, may, it is true, see what a
horse is like, either by looking at the bronze
horses against the church of S. Marco, or the
equestrian statue of Cplleoni on the Campo de
SS. Giovanni e Paoli; or they may meet with
live horses in the Giardino Publico, or on the
Lido, for in the former place people fond of
riding stable their horses and take their con
stitutionals, and on the latter there are omnibuses,
and consequently horses, to take people to the
bathing establishments on the Adriatic. But

VENICE. 25
Venice was not always without horses. As late
as the fifteenth century the Republic maintained
a stud for the use of the State, and private persons
who now would keep gondolas , then kept their
horses. The many bridges across the canals at
that time were built of wood, and level, so that
riding about the city was then not impossible, as
it is now ; though even then riding on the Piazza
during the business hours of the morning, as
well as at any time through the street called the
Merceria, was prohibited.
About the date above mentioned, as the inhab
itants of Venice increased, they began to resort
to boats, which were found less expensive and
more comfortable than locomotion on horseback.
These boats, at first very plain and simple, were
gradually altered in form and rendered more
luxurious, and eventually the pavilion, or feize,
as it is called in Italian, was added. Then, as
the city bridges required renewing, they were
built of stone, and arched, with steps for the
ascent, so as to allow of the passage underneath
of the gondola, with its lofty steel nose, which is
a little higher than the feize, and if the former
will pass under the bridge, the latter will. You

26 ROBA D* ITALIA.
enter the gondola backwards, and the seat of
honour is on the left; and the reason alleged is
that on the left you can more easily speak and
give directions to the gondolier in front, who
stands on the right.
What strange juxtapositions the concatenation
of ideas produces ! Horses have gradually led me
to gondolas ; but antiquity connected Neptune with
horses, and the greatest English authority on racing
matters is an admiral, who, strangely enough,
whenever he delivers some dictum on horseflesh and
the doings of the Jockey Club, is careful to add
to his signature the magic word " Admiral," which
one would think very appropriate if the writer
expressed some opinion on naval matters. But
" There are more things in heaven and earth
Than are dreamt of in our philosophy."
And so we need not be surprised if the racing
Admiral even become the champion of cock-
fighting (see Times, June 18, 1875), "as a sport
necessary to keep up the pluck of the English
people." It is sickening to read such stuff.
So let us return to gondolas and gondoliers.
The term gondola is supposed to be derived either
from the Latin concula, the diminutive of concha^

VENICE. 27
a shell; or from the term gongola, which in some
parts of Italy is applied to the scollop fish, or
from a Greek word, meaning an ark or case.
But whether gondola be derived from Greek
or Latin matters but little; we have the thing;
and as the rose by any other name would smell
as sweet, so the gondola, whatever change of
appellation it might undergo, would still be the
most delightful, most luxurious, and most romantic
of water-conveyances.
Jean Paul, in his ' Titan,' says he can imagine
nothing more delicious than reclining in a boat
off the islands of S. Borromeo ; he ought to have
said, being gently rowed in a gondola across the
Venetian Lagoon, while reclining in a dreamy
state of half-unconsciousness on the soft cushion,
and sheltered by an awning from the bright sun
above. What a pleasant life, at least during
summer, the beggar must lead, who, with a boy
to row him, goes about on the Lagoon attacking
the occupants of gondolas with his eleemosynary
cry! I have heard of Spanish beggars going
about on horseback, but this Venetian mendicant
in his barca looks more poetical. But in spite
of that, and though he accosted me several times,

28 ROBA D' ITALIA.
I never could resolve myself to give him any
thing ; his face is against him — it is villanous.
The gondolier of the present day is a being totally
different from his predecessor of the last century.
" Silent rows the songless gondolier,"
says Byron; and, following in the wake of that
poet, I say, — ¦
" He now no longer sings the rhymes of Ariosto ;
Across canal and rio now he howls piuttosto."
All day long you may hear the gondoliers howling
to each other across the water, from one riva or
fondamenta — as the footpaths hy*the side of some
of the canals are called — to another. At the tra-
ghetti, where ferry-boats are stationed, and some
half-dozen boatmen are constantly waiting for
customers, their amusement seems to consist in
having periodical rows among themselves, when
you will see them gesticulating, and hear them
violently shouting — ah ! and often advancing
towards each other with the most threatening
aspect, as if they were going to settle their
quarrel with their fists; but it never comes to
anything, it all ends in vox, et prceterea nihil*
They never fight; it is all froth, and no body.

VENICE. 29
In fact, the gondolier has altogether degenerated.
Instead of being a romantic villain, ready for any
intrigue, even to meddling with the bravo's special
department, he now has money in the savings'-bank,
and is proud of his honesty, not only towards those
who employ him, but even towards his colleagues.
Frequently when I have on the piazzetta been
looking for a particular gondolier, his confreres,
lounging about at the foot of one of the columns,
and waiting for passengers, have actually called
him from the wine-shop, instead of robbing him
of his fare for their own benefit. Such loyalty,
I think, deserves to be recorded. Formerly the
gondolier was an omnis homo, like a Jesuit. The
private gondolier of the present day is so now, but
in a different sense : he acts as valet, housemaid,
butler, and washerwoman ; but in less respectable
days he was useful in a totally different fashion. His
real business was lenocinium, even to depositing a sum
of money, to be forfeited if his goods proved unsound.
He knew the ins and outs of every palace, its
secret entrances and staircases, the safest hour for a
stolen interview, and was in league with the lady's-
maids ; provided rope-ladders, and would introduce
you into retreats considered impenetrable. His

30 ROBA D' ITALIA.
costume was as picturesque as his occupation ; but
now, unless he belong to a private family, his
clothes come from the Ghetto. Those in private
service wear a kind of livery— the prettiest I have
seen consisting of jacket and trousers of white
twill, and a blue sash with a broad silver fringe.
The gondoliers of bishops wear chimney-pot hats !
an incongruity probably as inexplicable as the
apron, shovel-hat, and gaiters of an English bishop.
During the era of the Republic, gondolas, like
theatres, were asylums, so to speak ; for officers of
the law were not allowed to enter them for the
purpose of arrest.
There is one failing, however, the gondolier of
the present day is guilty of — he will, if you listen
to him, recommend you certain shops or factories,
and endeavour to persuade you to make your
purchases there, he, of course, receiving from the
proprietor a gratuity for bringing you, which, it
need scarcely be mentioned, comes out of your
pocket. Two years ago a large number of manufac
turers and traders issued a circular letter, addressed
to the public, and especially to foreigners, warning
them against the practice. I have often been
thus importuned by the gondoliers, but they soon

VENICE. 3 1
dropped the subject when they found that I was
not to be charmed.
And again, however pleasant locomotion in a
gondola may be, it has one serious drawback, and
that is, the hook-swindler, who, to passengers in
gondolas in particular, is what mosquitoes are to
residents at Venice in general — an irritating
nuisance, from which there is hardly any escape.
The hook-swindler is the confrere of the cad, who
hangs about the London cabstand on the pretence
of being wanted to shut or open the door of the
vehicle. The hook - swindler loiters about the
landing-steps of the canals, ever on the look-out
for approaching gondolas or passengers. He con
siders the forestiere as his legitimate victim, as he
well knows that the native ignores his existence.
To set up in business he requires no large capital
or stock-in-trade, since all he needs is a stick —
any old broom-handle, or merely a lath stripped
off a board, will do— and a strong rusty nail. The
latter is driven at a right angle through a slit or
hole in one end of the stick, and provided with
this offensive weapon the hook-swindler is prepared
to pounce upon wayfarers, like the ancient robber,
baron, or foot-pad, and command them to " stand

32 ROBA D' ITALIA.
and deliver." His business is thieving by hook or
by crook. As soon as a gondola approaches the
landing-place, he advances with his hook and
pretends to draw the boat to shore, which is a
mere sham : firstly, because in most instances his
hooking-tool is so feeble, that if any force were
required it would break; and, secondly, because
the gondolier is totally independent of help, as he
steers his boat with the ease and skill a Hansom
cabman displays in guiding his vehicle. Of this
the hook-swindler is fully aware, and, therefore,
he really only lays his hook on the forepart of the
gondola, whilst, as you alight, he, with the other
hand, holds out a greasy hat to receive your con
tribution for annoying and humbugging you, and
being an incumbrance on the earth.
I felt quite a fiendish delight whenever I could
manage to do one of them, and land before he
had time to run up from the wine-shop, where he
had probably been playing at mora, of which more
by-and-by. Sometimes I flattered myself that the
coast was clear; but before the gondola touched
the stairs, the hook-swindler would dart out of
a corner, and claim his prey. Sometimes I could
see one frantically running along the fondamenta

VENICE. 33
to the point where I wanted to land; then it
became a race between the gondolier and the hook-
fiend, for the former was to have the soldi if he
beat the latter. Their successes were about, equally
divided ; and when I had to pay " hookey," I was
somewhat consoled, by the disappointment of the
gondolier, and listening to the choice language
they addressed to each other. Occasionally I
snatched a fearful joy on beholding a hook-swindler
wildly taking up his tool and rushing to a stair
where I had no intention of landing. Then
" My internal spirit cut a caper "
at seeing the biter bit, and exposed to the jeers
of the loungers, always to be found in the vicinity
of water, which seems to attract them, as it does
mosquitoes. In writing this last word, I find I have unwit
tingly come back to the insect to which I com
pared the hook-swindler, and, like Mrs. Malaprop,
I say, " Them 's my sentiments, and I sticks to
them." The times are past when lawsuits can
be brought against animals, and vermin be cited
before a court of law to answer for damage and
devastation, and therefore mosquitoes cannot be
put down by enactments ; but the hook-swindler
VOL. II. D

34 ROBA D' ITALIA.
might be put down by the police. He is nothing
but a beggar in disguise, and a very impertinent
and troublesome beggar too. All visitors to Venice
ought to combine in their efforts to extinguish
him. Why don't Mr. Cook, who sends so many
tourists to the Queen of the Adriatic, instruct them
to ignore the hook-swindler, pretending frantically
to hold the boat, as if the waters of the Lagoon
were beating against an iron-bound coast ?
Then Mr. Cook might, indeed, boast of having
done something for the travelling public.
The mosquitoes, which are so great a plague
in Italy, can scarcely be shut out by mosquito-
curtains ; the most effective way of keeping them off
at night I have found to be to cover yourself well
up with the bed-clothes, and put a large piece of
mosquito-netting over your face. In good hotels
the beds, of course, are free from jumping vermin ;
but if your wanderings take you into out-of-the-
way places and purely Italian inns, always of an
inferior order, a simple and successful safeguard
against the annoyance is to place a fresh slice of
melon under the bed; the vermin smell it from
afar, jump on it directly, and eat themselves to
death. Probatum est.

VENICE. 35
Whilst I was staying at Venice the earthquake-
details of which appeared in every newspaper — took
place. It occurred exactly at five o'clock in the
morning on the 29th of June, 1873. The first shock
awakened me from a sound sleep ; everything in
the room rattled and moved about. The shock
was succeeded by a rocking motion, which lasted
some seconds. My first impulse was to jump out
of bed ; but reflection immediately suggested the
question, Where was I to run to ? If Venice was
to be wiped out there would be no chance of
escape, for before I reached the stairs they would
have ceased to be stairs ; and even if I could get
outside the building, the lanes around would be
masses of ruins. Only persons living on the boun
daries of the city, or on the Grand Canal, would,
in case of a destructive earthquake at Venice, have
any chance of escape. However, on this occasion,
Venice was frightened for a moment, and nothing
more. The only damage done was the falling
down of some plaster from the ceiling in one of
the deserted buildings on the island of S. Elena,
just beyond the Public Gardens.
But other localities in the Venetian territory did
not get off so cheaply. Belluno was the town that
d 2

36 ROBA D' ITALIA.
suffered most. Hundreds of houses were thrown
down, and many persons killed ; and so great was
the apprehension of further shocks, that nearly all
the remaining inhabitants of the town camped
out in the fields on the following night. The
impression, in fact, was very general that the
earthquake would be repeated on the morning of
the 30th of June, that it had taken a return-ticket ;
hence many people passed that morning in the
open air. Of course the priests immediately
declared the earthquake to be a punishment sent
by Heaven for the Radical and Church-persecuting
tendencies of the age. But it is droll that most
of the people who were fatally or otherwise injured
met with their fate in church. The church of
St Peter at Felletto, for instance, fell down on the
people who had gone to early mass, and seventy
persons were killed.
The mountaineers of Belluno have their own
way of accounting for earthquakes. The mother
of St Peter, they say, is in the infernal regions,
while her son holds the keys of Paradise. What
the old lady has been guilty of to deserve so
uncomfortable a residence is not stated in their
legend; however, there she is. But her dutiful

VENICE. 37
son, to console her, gives her a treat on the day
of his festa, which is the 29th of June, when he
invites her to Paradise for ten days. When she
leaves her fiery abode, the devils — no doubt afraid
of losing so important a personage for ever — howl
and gnash their teeth ; old Lucifer cuffs and kicks
his imps about in all directions ; and these, in their
pain and anguish, give the earth violent blows,
so that it shakes and trembles. However, as
soon as the old girl is safely restored to them,
they again settle down to their peaceful occu
pations of roasting fanatics, hypocrites, Popes,
and reformers, and setting mankind by the ears
generally. Subscriptions for the benefit of the sufferers by
the earthquake were raised everywhere ; but, looking
at the results with English spectacles, the amounts
contributed certainly seemed somewhat poor.
Thus the sum collected in a large foundry at
Venice, employing forty-nine men, amounted to
no more than 29 lire 90 centimes, the proprietor
heading the list with the magnificent sum of 5 lire,
while some of the workmen had the satisfaction
of seeing their names in print by means of a
contribution of 10 centimes.

38

ROBA D* ITALIA

Earthquakes, and of the most destructive cha
racter, have not been uncommon in the Venetian
territory. Eleven occurred between the years
365 and 1695, some of which lasted from ten to
fifteen days, .and were attended with great loss
of life and property. It is, indeed, a curious fact
that within the last nine centuries earthquakes
in Italy have gone on increasing, as will be seen
from the following table : —

Eleventh Century
TwelfthThirteenth FourteenthFifteenthSixteenth
Seventeenth ,
Eighteenth Nineteenth

10 Earthquakes.
12
11
10 5
1627
185
202

The defectiveness of the records of former cen
turies may account in some degree for the enormous
increase observed in the last two ; still, with every
allowance of this kind made, things seem to be
getting worse and worse. Italy, one of the arms
of Dame Europa, has more frequent paralytic
strokes; no wonder that things are going on so
badly in her head, represented by Spain.
But though on this particular occasion the

Venice. 39
Venetians were thoroughly frightened for a
moment, their fright did not last long. Far
from imitating, for instance, the Neapolitans, who,
at the earthquake of 1688, perambulated the streets
wearing sackcloth and crowns of thorns, ropes
on their necks and chains on their ankles, and
flagellating themselves when they came to a ruined
church, the Venetians, on the day of the earth
quake, which happened to be a Sunday, and
though some of them expected a repetition of the
phenomenon on the morrow, went to the Lido
in greater numbers than ever ; the loungers, moon
ing and loafing before every cafd, were in greater
force than usual ; the three flower-girls that re
present the three graces of the Venetian heaven —
I wish their voices were a trifle more musical ! —
wore more gorgeously-embroidered muslin dresses,
and tempted you with finer flowers than was
their wont; and in the evening a larger crowd
than I had ever seen there promenaded up and
down on either side of the Piazza — that glorious
hall, whose only fitting vault is the sky, as Na
poleon said — overflowing the pavement of the
arcades, chatting and laughing in front of Florian
and the Quadri, or strolling into the Piazetta, past

40 ROBA D* ITALIA.
the hideous giants in the vestibule of the Zecca,
or between the two granite columns, the one sur
mounted by the lion of St Mark, the other by
St George — and not by St Teodoro, as usually
stated; whilst the strains of the military band,
stationed around a gas-lamp with many branches,
filled the balmy air with joyous sounds. Then
the beautifully-starched dresses and petticoats,
that during the day had been dried outside
windows and balconies, made a great show on
their fair wearers ; tongues and fans wagged
merrily; and the only effect produced by the
morning's terror on the inhabitants of Venice
seemed to be to recall the ancient spirit of joyous
ness, when the Venetians said of foreigners, " Si
non sono matti, non li volemo" and to inspire
the modern Venetians with the resolution to follow
the more ancient precept, " Carpe diem!''' though
at the same time the cholera was daily carrying
off some twenty or thirty people.
Talking about the dresses of Venetian ladies,
I am reminded of what an old writer says about
them. According to him, black was once the
favourite colour. " For their skin being very
white," he writes, "the ladies mostly dress in

VENICE. 41
black, because it contrasts favourably with their
fair complexions. And, indeed, it is impossible
to describe the richness of their attire and beauty
of their linen. All their ' things ' are embroidered,
trimmed, worked, starched, and ironed, and
frilled in a manner seen nowhere else." The
description is accurate to the present day. In
looking at the double procession of ladies in
the Piazza on a night when the band plays, I
have often been reminded of the lines in Wie-
land's ' Oberon ': —
" . . . . virgins issue from the palace gates ;
They come beauteous as May, with ever blooming cheeks,
Clothed in garments glowing lily white."
Many of the Venetian ladies, instead of follow
ing the absurd custom of sticking a hat on the
top of a chignon as big as a muff, adopt the
Spanish fashion of the high comb and veil, and
certainly look very fascinating, and quite in
character with the locality. Even children are
sometimes dressed in that style; and I shall not
easily forget a girl of about ten years of age I
saw on the Piazza, and who, in her short frock,
well-fitting boots, white stockings, and black lace

42 ROBA D' ITALIA.
veil, looked as the little flirt must have looked to
whom Coleridge addressed the charming lines
entitled, I think — I quote from memory — " To my
Little Sweetheart." She looked so bewitching, and,
at the same time, waved her fan so coquet-
tishly, that had I been a little boy, I must
have fallen in love with her straightway, and
for ever.
The Venetian ladies have a very stately walk;
in fact, most Italian women, even of the lower
orders, seem to indulge in a kind of stage step,
which arises, I suppose, from the fact of many
of them wearing shoes without quarters, which
compels them to throw out the leg from the knee,
so as to keep on their chaussure. Unlike English
women, they never show their ankles, so that as
to that portion of their anatomy, I am in the
dark. But as to another part of their figure,
this I have observed, — and no traveller coming
from Rome or Naples can help observing it> so
great is the contrast, — that the Venetian women
have but slightly-developed busts ; in fact, so
general is this defect} that one is led to take it
for the result of intentional artificial repression,
practised from childhood4 We know that Spanish

VENICE. 43
women look upon a flattened bust as a beauty.
This certainly is a fearful mistake, but there is
no doubt that it is made; and the Venetian
ladies, who seem fond of imitating the Spaniards,
may have adopted this erroneous idea from
them. I alluded above to the ravages of the cholera
at Venice. This reminds me of a circumstance
that occurred to me in that city.
The readers of the Athenaeum will remember
frequent articles on Paris, French politics and
literature, contributed to that paper by Philarete
Chasles, quondam chief of the Mazzarine Library.
Though a Frenchman, he wrote English such as
few Englishmen could write; and I was always
anxious to know that gentleman, and had deter
mined, on my next visit to Paris, to be made
before my return to England, to obtain an intro
duction to him.
Now while I was staying at Venice, I noticed
on several occasions a gentleman of somewhat
peculiar appearance. He was of short stature,
wore an enormous moustache, and seemed between
sixty and seventy years of age. I repeatedly
encountered him on the stairs of the hotel, and

44 ROBA DJ ITALIA.
also sat at a table opposite to his, where I saw
him in company with two ladies, he and I
generally lunching at the same hour. One morn
ing, a man who had been a waiter at the hotel,
but had on my recommendation obtained a
situation as travelling servant with a private
family, — much to my regret, for he turned out a
worthless fellow, — met me in the street, and
asked me whether I was aware that on the
previous night a gentleman had died of cholera
at the Hotel Vittoria. I had heard nothing of
it, but, on inquiry, I found that the gentleman in
question was the one I had so frequently met,
and that he was no other person than M.
Philarete Chasles! Here was a disappointment,
under the most aggravating circumstances too !
To have had daily opportunities of becoming
acquainted with a man whose acquaintance I
should have so highly valued; and when at last
I knew that I had been in his presence so often,
to learn that he was just dead! Had I but
inquired, or looked at the list of strangers
suspended in the hall of the hotel, when he first
attracted my attention, to see who he was, I
might have procured myself a great pleasure,

VENICE. 45
and saved myself some regret. Never was I more
sorry for my want of inquisitiveness than on this
occasion. M. Chasles, however, did not die of
cholera. The municipal authorities instituted an
inquiry, and it was proved that his death arose
from causes attributable to his great age, he
having been born in 1798. Hence the two ladies
who had come with him to Venice, and who
immediately after his death had been put in
quarantine, with a guard over them, were allowed
to depart. The body of M. Chasles was taken to
the cemetery on the island until its removal to
Paris. The deceased gentleman often used to
eome to Venice to visit that very cemetery, where
one of his relatives was buried. Little did he
think that it was eventually to become his own
resting-place, even if only for a while.
Talking of cholera reminds me of another
circumstance that has some connexion with it.
The fine church Sta Maria della Salute, on
the Grand Canal, close to the point opposite the
Giardinetto, and where before that time stood an
oratory ofthe Capuchin friars, was erected in 1631,
to commemorate the staying of the plague which
desolated the city in the previous year. On the

46 ROBA D' ITALIA.
island of the Giudecca is the equally fine Church
del Redentore, also erected as an ex-voto after
the staying of the plague of 1576. Now in the
month of July there was hitherto celebrated the
Festa del Redentore, when a bridge of boats was
built across the Grand Canal, in face of the church
of Sta Maria della Salute, and thence continued
across the canal of the Giudecca to the Church
del Redentore ; processions were held, and the
fete lasted throughout the night, thousands of
persons supping and breakfasting on board of
boats decorated with flags, evergreens, and Chinese
lanterns. But in 1873 the Municipality, in con
sequence of the prevalence of cholera, and fearing
that a large concourse of people might assist in
spreading the disease, forbade both the building
of the bridge and the holding of processions.
Workmen had, indeed, already begun the
erection of the bridge, but they were ordered to
desist, and finally to remove the portion already
fixed. This was a great disappointment to many
persons, both to such as expected profit, and such
as looked forward to some amusement from the
usual festa. But the priests, who, of course, would
have made a good thing out of it, — for you cannot

VENICE. 47
take part in processions and pilgrimages with
empty hands, — were furious. They vented their
impotent rage in a series of rabid articles in the
Veneto Cattolico, a clerical paper, which caused a
deal of amusement to thinking people, and also
pleased fools for opposite reasons. But in our
days men have more faith in a pailful of chloride
of lime than a vat of holy water, and so there
was no bridge, no procession, and no religious
ceremony, except such as could be performed
within the walls of the church.
There was, however, a feeble attempt at an
aquatic pic-nic. At about eleven o'clock at night
a few barges, hung with Chinese lamps, were seen
to cross the Lagoon. A friend of mine and I
entered a gondola to see the fun. We were rowed
up to the Church del Redentore, on the Giudecca,
which was the goal of all the boats. We there
found perhaps a score of boats and barges, trans
formed by evergreens into bowers, lit up with
lights and lanterns, in which men and women
belonging to the lower orders were feasting at
tables, .made of rough boards and covered with
dirty cloths, on sour wine and vegetarian
dishes, strongly spiced with garlic, and indulging

48 ROBA D, ITALIA.
in a sort of make-believe jollity most dismal to
behold. You could see that they were trying
their hardest to be merry, and to humbug them
selves and others into the conviction that they
were mightily pleased, whilst no doubt every one
of them wished himself snug in bed, and secretly
voted the whole thing a nuisance, a sham, and
a delusion. The wine-shops on the fondamenta, or footpath
along the canal, were full of customers ; so my
friend and I, anxious to see how le peuple
s' 'amuse, went on shore, and, entering one of the
establishments, we ordered some brandy, having
but little faith in the notice inscribed on the
shutters, that wines of the finest quality were sold
within. But the brandy — may I never taste the
like again ! We could not drink it, it was so
bad ; but as we did not see the joke of making
the scoundrelly padrone a present of it, we called
our two gondoliers, who made short work of it,
and declared it to be " very good."
" 0 dura ilia gondolierum ! "
There were a few poor attempts at singing, and
two or three superannuated organ-grinders, with

VENICE. 4 9
instruments drawn from antediluvian lumber-
rooms, joined in the chorus of discordant sounds.
Such was the grand Festa del Redentore, a miser
able failure, without one redeeming point.
To what base uses we return ! The Pyramids
and Pompey's Pillar are advertising stations for
Howlaway's Pills and Rowland's Kalydor ; the
tomb of Plautus at Grotta Ferrata is surmounted
by a telegraph-post; and here at Venice the
glorious Loggia at the foot of the great Cam
panile of St Mark, with its columns of rich marbles,
its bas-reliefs of the same material, its bronze
statues and doors, and which was originally built
as the station for the Procurators in command of
the guard during the sitting of the Great Council,
is now, alas ! used as an auction-room. Instead
of its being filled with the gorgeously-dressed
soldiers and officers of the Republic, I have seen
it thronged with a crowd of dirty Jews, haggling
over pots and pans, old tubs, and such like
common domestic utensils. On Sundays it is
used for drawing the lottery, which in Italy is an
institution in full activity, and has an extensive
literature of its own.
There are ninety numbers, but five only are
VOL. II. E

50 ROBA D' ITALIA.
drawn, so that the operation does not take long;
aud the miserable, ragged crew that assembles
to witness it, most of whose members have staked
their last centesimi on one of the numbers, is
soon put out of its misery. A sort of egg-shaped
receptacle, made of wire-netting, placed in a slant
ing position between two supports, and turned by
a handle, holds the slips of papers on which the
numbers are written, which slips are put in, one
after another, in presence of the spectators, each
number being, as it is put in through the little
door in the wire-egg, palled out by an official,
who stands beside the machine, at whose other
side may be seen a boy, generally taken from
some orphan asylum, who has his eyes bandaged,
and right arm bare nearly up to the shoulder.
When all the ninety numbers have been put in,
the drawing begins. The boy turns the cage two
or three times, by which the tickets are thoroughly
mixed; then the official, standing by his side,
opens the little door, and plunges the boy's arm
in; the latter takes out one of the tickets, which
are folded up, and hands it to the official, who
— and here the matter becomes very suspicious —
instead of immediately unfolding it in the presence

VENICE. 51
of everybody, first hands it to some other officials
sitting at a table inside the Loggia, they handing
it back to him opened, whereupon he displays
the number drawn, or supposed to be drawn, for
it will readily be seen that there is plenty of
opportunity for the officials at the table, which
cannot possibly be watched by the spectators
without, to substitute, if they be so inclined, one
number for another.
On the occasion when I watched the drawing,
the first number which came out, curiously enough,
was number 1, which of course excited great
hilarity among the bystanders; the next was 16,
the third 30, the fourth 60, and the fifth 90. As
each number is drawn, a large card, with the
same number on it, is displayed in a kind of
frame. As soon as all the five are drawn, the
officials, cage, orphan boy, and crowd in front
of the Loggia, vanish like a dissolving view, the
losing gamblers retiring with howling and gnash
ing of teeth, whilst the owners of winning numbers,
if there be any, rush to the wine-shop to celebrate
their good luck.
The lower orders in Italy all play in the lottery ;
the greater portion of their earnings is swallowed
E 2

52 ROBA D' ITALIA.
up by that benevolent institution. Some English
friends of mine, staying at Venice, had an Italian
man-servant, and a female nurse for a member of
the family who was ill. The man-servant had
120 lire, and the nurse 60 lire a month, and every
thing found ; yet both of them were constantly
anticipating their wages, because every lira they
earned went in lottery- tickets, which never brought
any returns.
The loggia is placed against one of the four
sides of the Campanile ; the others are surrounded
by a set of paltry sheds, occupied by ship and old-
furniture brokers, disgracing the beautiful Piazza
of St Mark, enclosed by edifices the costliness of
whose marbles is as nothing compared with the
richness of their architectural designs. But light
and shade are curiously mingled in Italy !
Most travellers on their first visit to Venice im
mediately ascend the Campanile of St Mark ; and
the plan is not a bad one, because from its belfry
or open loggia, and still more from the top gallery,
you obtain an extensive view over all Venice, the
Lagoon, the Adriatic, and the country to the north
and west of Venice. The entrance to it is through
one of the sheds on the north side of the tower,

VENICE. 53
where formerly there was a large doorway, which
is now walled up. Having ascended to the
loggia, and taken a survey of the city, I mounted
by an iron spiral staircase to the gallery, — for
which you have to pay a few soldi in addition to
what you gave at the bottom, — and enjoyed the
magnificent view it affords.
Just as I was about descending all the bells
began to ring, and I stopped on the stairs and
watched the play of the huge clappers as they
and the bells swung to and fro. The vibration is
very slight, which speaks well for the solidity of
the structure, though it stands on piles. The
foundation of this bell-tower was laid in 888, and
the building finished in 1148. It was repaired in
1329, but in 1400 it was partly destroyed by fire,
on the occasion of the festivities held in honour
of the election of the Doge, Michael Steno. Having
been restored, the spire, which was of wood, was
struck by lightning in 1417, and consumed. It
was rebuilt this time of stone, but again struck
by lightning in 1490. It was again restored, as
we see it now.
The restoration would hardly have been com
plete without a miracle, consequently it occurred.

54 ROBA Ds ITALIA.
A workman fell from the top, but having in falling
recommended himself to St Mark, and at the same
time taken hold of a beam which projected from
the tower, at about half its height, — which, of
course, does not lessen the miracle, certainly not ! —
— he was able to seize a rope and safely let him
self down to the ground.
In the last century one of the two bronze giants,
standing on the clock-tower opposite, and striking
the hours on the big bell between them, knocked
a workman, who had incautiously come within the
swing of his hammer, off the parapet. The Virgin
of gilt bronze, who sits above the large dial-plate,
was not so considerate, perhaps because she had
not been appealed to, or because, perchance, she
was just then having a hasty chat with the angel
and the three Magi, who, when the clock struck
the hour, used to come out of one of the doors at
her side, pass before and bow to her, and disappear
through the other. At all events, the workman
was killed. But the age of miracles is well-nigh
gone. Not quite, because in most churches may
be seen hung up by the side of the Madonna, or
some saint, fearful daubs — all the more surprising
in this land of painters — commemorative of

VENICE. 55
modern miracles, wrought by the Virgin or
patron in whose shrine they are suspended. Here,
a person is in bed on the point of death ; here,
another nearly drowning ; here, another cut to
pieces by an engine ; here, another falling from a
roof — all miraculously saved by the interposition
of Mary or Saint What 's-his-name.
But what most attracts your gaze, and what
you can never look at without being lost in wonder
and rapture, is the Cathedral of St Mark, which,
if it were not known to have an actual existence,
would in a painting appear as a dream never to
be realized in .stone. It is surmounted by five
cupolas, sustained or adorned by more than five
thousand marble pillars ; five portals with bronze
gates lead into the interior ; its facade is decorated
with mosaics and statues, and especially by the
four bronze horses, which, carried away from
Greece, first adorned Nero's and then Trajan's
triumphal arches. Constantine carried them off to
Constantinople; Dandolo, in 1294, brought them
to Venice ; Napoleon placed them on his triumphal
arch at Paris, whence the Emperor Francis of
Austria had them re-conveyed to their present
position and newly gilt. The gloom of the interior

56 ROBA D* ITALIA.
of the cathedral is lit up by the golden lustre of
pillars and vault, and the splendour of semi-precious
stones in columnar shrines and mosaics, the latter
the work of the brothers Francis and Valerio
Zuccati, who were as good as kept prisoners at
Venice, lest they should execute similar marvels in
other cities.
The treasury of St Mark is still rich in works
of Byzantine and mediaeval art; but the precious
objects it now contains are but a small portion of
those which, before the French Revolution, made
this collection one of the richest of Europe. In
1449, when the treasury was in its glory, a bold
attempt was made to carry off its contents. One
Stamato, a Candian, managed to join the suite of
a Prince of Este, to whom the treasures were being
shown, and, seeing the priceless gems and works
of art, he determined to steal them. He managed
to hide himself at night in the church, and,
removing one of the marble slabs of the wall
dividing the church from the treasury, he gradually
excavated the wall behind, always replacing tlie
slab during the day-time, and carrying away the
rubbish he had got out, and eventually made his
way into the chamber, from which he by degrees

VENICE. 57
removed all the valuables. But he wanted some
ready-money to make his escape ; so he entrusted
a gem of great value to one Grillo, also a Candian,
whom he had induced at an altar to swear secrecy,
after which he had revealed the theft to him, in
order that he might sell the stone. But Grillo,
being frightened when he saw the treasures Stamato
had stolen, went and informed the Doge of the
robbery. The thief, who was waiting for Grillo's
return with the money, was pounced upon, and
all the treasure he had abstracted, worth two
millions of gold ducats, recovered. Stamato was
hanged between the two columns in the Piazzetta ;
Grillo received a large reward in cash, and a
pension for life for his timely information.
I regret I had no chance of seeing the crypt ;
but during my stay at Venice it was full of water,
which is perpetually percolating the foundations.
In walking about on the Piazza one cannot help
being struck with the incongruity of our modern
dress with the piles before us. Certes, only the
picturesque costumes of the Middle Ages seem to
harmonize with them.
I frequently stroll into the Ducal Palace. A
year would scarcely suffice properly to examine

58 ROBA D' -ITALIA.
all its art treasures ; but of these I will not speak,
there are books about them in plenty. Instead
of saying something about paintings, I will make
a remark on the absence of one. In the Sala del
Maggior Consiglio is a series of portraits, repre
senting the Doges in chronological order ; but
where that of Marino Faliero ought to be, we only
see a black space, with the inscription, — " Locus
Marini Falieri decapitati pro criminibus." Give
a dog a bad name, &c. Never was the truth of
the adage better illustrated. For five hundred
years the luckless Doge has been branded as a
criminal, and why? For trying to restore to the
Venetians some of their lost liberties !
The Venetians fled to the islands, on which
their city stands, to escape oppression ; so did the
Pilgrim Fathers ; and both Venetians and Puritans
became the greatest tyrants in their respective
new homes. The Venetian Government, popular
in its origin, gradually became aristocratic, in
consequence principally of the institution of the
Grand Council. The people first lost the privilege
of nominating, and then of confirming, the Doge ;
and were finally excluded from any participation
in public affairs. The patricians seized every

VENICE. 59
lucrative office, and succeeded in concentrating
within a limited number of aristocratic families
an absolute authority — ari authority exercised in
the most tyrannical spirit, and blasphemously
called justice, which condemned thousands of
victims, denying them defenders, counsel, infor
mation as to their accusers, the crimes laid to
their charge, the advice and assistance of friends,
— which was, in fact, politically, what the Inqui
sition was in religion. The bodies in which this
arbitrary power was vested were the Council of
Ten and the Council of Three, who, in reality,
superseded even the ducal authority. Hence the
frequent conspiracies against the power of the
nobles, the most famous of which was that of the
Doge Marino Faliero.
This man, belonging to one of the noblest
Venetian families, was raised to the ducal dignity
in 1354, when nearly eighty years old. He had
for many years filled some of the highest offices
of the State with great advantage to his fellow-
citizens and much credit to himself, and in 1355
concluded a very advantageous peace with Genoa.
Now it happened that a Venetian noble, who had
gained unauthorized access to the Doge's presence

60 ROBA D' ITALIA.
to see a lady of whom he was enamoured, was
discovered by the Doge, and ordered out; for
which he avenged himself by a remark derogatory
to the Doge's wife, and also by publishing some
satirical verses on the Doge himself. The magis
trates condemned him to one year's exile, deeming
this adequate punishment for what they called
mere youthful folly; but the Doge did not think
so, and was furious, when the chief of the artisans
of the Arsenal presented himself, and demanded
justice against a nobleman who had struck him
in the face. " How can I do you justice if I do
not obtain it for myself?" replied the chief of the
State. The same night he sent for this man
again, and with him formed his plan of revenge.
Sixteen caporioni, or aldermen of wards, were to
post each sixty men, well armed, in different
parts of the city. The bell in the campanile of
S. Marco was to give the signal for action. Then
the conspirators, all meeting, were to cry out
that the Genovese fleet was approaching Venice,
to run to the ducal palace, and slay all the nobles
as they should arrive there. The 15th of April
was the day fixed upon for the execution of the
plot.

VENICE. 61
But one of the conspirators, one Bertrando, fully
initiated into the project, and wishing to save
the patrician Nicola Lioni, to whom he was
attached, on the night of the 14th secretly went
to his palace, and instantly besought him not to
go out next morning. The nobleman, rendered
suspicious, ordered the man to be detained, and
hurried to the Doge, who gave such confused
and contradictory answers, that Lioni consulted
other patricians, which ended in Bertrando being
at once put to the torture, and betraying as
many of his accomplices as he knew, not even
excepting the Doge. That same night sixteen
of the conspirators were hanged, and, within a
week, some four hundred more were either hanged
or quartered or drowned. It is said that some
five hundred more, who had been implicated in
the conspiracy, made their escape. On the morn
ing of the 17th of April, 1355 — only two days
after the discovery of the plot — the Doge was
executed at the top of the Giant's Staircase. As
soon as his head was struck off, says a chronicler,
the palace gates, which had been kept shut, were
thrown open, the people rushed in, and saw the
" Justice of the Republic," and they applauded !

62 ROBA D' ITALIA.
Yes, the ungrateful idiots applauded! Ground
down as they were by the patricians, shut out
from every prospect and chance of bettering their
condition, republicans only in name, — the govern
ment they groaned under being one of the most
despotical in Europe, relying on spies, inquisitors,
and secret denunciations, they approved of the
condemnation to death of the very man who
could have restored to them some of their rights
as citizens. Whether his motives for doing this
were pure or not, was nothing to them ; they
had no right to judge them : whatever they were
they would have reaped the benefit of his private
vengeance. The real criminals were the nobles,
who had gradually robbed the people of their
1 political and civil inheritance; but the Doge
attempted to oppose a powerful body, failed, and
was stigmatized for ever as a criminal. But
Carlyle's words, " There are twenty-seven millions
of inhabitants in England mostly fools," apply,
mutatis mutandis, to almost every nation.
When the diabolical Holy Office, the wholesale
execution establishment of the Popes, had tied a
number of poor wretches to stakes to be burnt,
the foolish crowd standing round cried, "Let

VENICE. 63
the dogs' beards be made!" meaning thereby that
they should be set on fire, not one of the blood
thirsty idiots that uttered the cry was sure that
he might not himself be seized the very same
day on some pretence or other by the Familiars
of the cursed Inquisition, and, after being racked
in its dungeons, condemned to undergo this same
tonsorial process. When, in consequence of the
constant risings of the Polish serfs against their
cruel taskmasters, the Polish nobles, the country
had become a political powder-magazine, always
threatening the safety of neighbouring States, and
these latter at last effectually interfered to put a
stop to the danger, the Polish nobles made the
world, and especially John Bull, believe that they
had been, and were, fighting to maintain the inde
pendence of their country, while they, in reality,
only fought to uphold their tyrannical power over
their own countrymen; and these latter were
imbecile enough to fight in their behalf.
If the modern Venetians would do an act of
justice, they would rehabilitate the memory of
Faliero by effacing the lying inscription, and
placing one, conceived in the spirit of the above
remarks, in its place.

64 ROBA D' ITALIA.
Other Doges held with the powerful nobles,
and, therefore, came down to posterity as patriots
and great men, — as David is known as the "man
after God's own heart," though he was a monster
of cruelty, whilst Saul, who was not so bad a
king after all, has a bad name ; the former held
with the priests, the latter rather hated them.
But if the Doges were such just rulers, why the
many conspiracies against the Doges themselves,
accounts of which are to be found in the history
of Venice ? In 830 a great many of the nobles
conspired against the Doge Participatio unsuccess
fully; in 864 the Doge Tradonico was slain on
account of his tyrannical proceedings; so was
Michele II., in 1172. During the reign of the
Doge Pietro Gradenigo two very dangerous con
spiracies against him and the Senate were
formed; the first was discovered before it arrived
at maturity, the second, that of Baiamonte
Tiepolo, had already come to a public outbreak,
when it was put an end to by a pure accident.
At the rush of men and clang of arms in the
streets and lanes of Venice, an old woman ran
out on her balcony to see what it all meant. In
her eager haste she knocked a large flower-pot

VENICE. 65
off the parapet of the balcony, and it so happened
that at that very instant Baiamonte Tiepolo,
the chief of the conspiracy, was passing under
the identical balcony, and the flower-pot falling
on his head, he was thereby killed on the spot.
This event, which speedily became known to the
conspirators, caused such a consternation among
them, that they abandoned their project, and
sought their safety in flight, or surrendered.
The list of conspiracies might be lengthened,
but what need is there for doing so? That the
Venetian people were in a state of abject slavery
during the period of the much-vaunted splendour
of the Republic, is proved by the many festivals
provided for them by their oppressors; as I have
stated elsewhere, a free people amuse themselves
when and how they please, and not " by authority."
The ancient Romans instituted the Saturnalia as
a safety-valve against rebellious outbreaks of their
slaves ; and the American planters allowed their
slaves occasional merry-makings, if such miserable
creatures could ever be truly merry.
Besides, if a Doge deserved to be branded
as a traitor to his country, it was assuredly
Giovanni Soranzo, who, in 1313, allowed his
VOL. II. F

66 ROBA D' ITALIA.
ambassador, Francesco Dandolo, to crawl on
his knees, and with a chain round his neck,
to the Pope's feet, in order to obtain from
that hypocritical " servant of servants " the
removal of the interdict he had laid on Venice
because the Republic had made war on Ferrara.
How deeply the Venetian people felt the de
gradation they had suffered in the person of
their ambassador, is proved by the fact that
they afterwards never spoke of him but as
"the dog," though he subsequently was actually
elected Doge ; which, again, is a proof that
the people had already ceased to have any
voice at all in the ducal election, since it is
not likely they would have consented to place
so despised and despicable a creature at the
head of the State.
The power of the Doges, very great at first,
gradually dwindled down to almost nothing,
the aristocracy becoming the real rulers of the
republic. Lest any Doge, remembering the
prerogatives formerly belonging to his office,
and taking advantage of his position, should
try to recover them, the nobles adopted every
device for rendering that impossible. So the

VENICE. 67
Doge's rights were constantly more and more
circumscribed, till at last they were reduced
to those of presiding, ex-officio, at all the
councils of the Republic, of having a casting
vote, and of appointing the prebends of St
Mark. None of his children or relations could
hold any office; during his lifetime he was
the puppet of the aristocracy, and after his
death certain officials, called Correttori, examined
the conduct of the defunct ; and if they found
that he had transgressed what little show of
authority his masters had left him, the fact
was mentioned with reprobation in his funeral
sermon ; . and when they discovered that in any
instance he had acted in a manner, not illegal,
indeed, because there was no prohibitory clause,
but still displeasing or in opposition to the
secret wishes and aims of the nobility, these
Correttori had power to enact fresh laws, still
more restricting the Doge's authority and in
fluence. But, as a rule, the aristocracy, though they
reduced the chief of the state to a cipher, and
kept the people in a condition of abject slavery,
maintained the honour of the Republic in their
F 2

68 ROBA D' ITALIA.
relations with other states. Thus when, in 1605,
the Pope fulminated his excommunication against
Venice, because the Doge and Council had issued
several decrees, one of them being that the property
of laymen could not be alienated in favour of eccle
siastics, the Venetian Government forbade the
clergy to publish any rescript proceeding from
Rome. The Vicar of Padua declared that he
would do what the Holy Spirit commanded him
to do, but the Podesta replied that they would
do what the Holy Spirit had already commanded
the Council of Ten to do, namely, hang him.
The threat insured obedience. A Venetian priest
was more rational. Being urged to come to
a decision, he said, "I am of opinion that
there is less inconvenience in being excom
municated for thirty years than hanged for
thirty minutes, and so I yield."
But to return to " Venetian Justice," the figure
of which ostentatiously decorates the Sala delle
Quattro Porte. Let us give a few more examples
of it, that we may fully understand what the
Venetian Government was.
The Count of Carmagnola (1430), after having,
in the service of the Republic, gained many

VENICE. 69
glorious victories over her enemies, defeated the
Lombard troops at Maccalo, and took eight thou
sand prisoners, most of whom he set free on
condition that they returned home, and did not
again take up arms against the Republic. This
so incensed the blood-thirsty Venetian Senate, that
his destruction was resolved on. But, as the army
were devoted to him, it was considered unsafe to
employ violence ; treachery must do the work.
For six months the Venetian Senate concealed
their murderous intentions. Carmagnola having
in the mean time met with some slight reverses
on the Po, the Venetians seized that opportunity
to declare themselves ready to enter into nego
tiations for peace, and invited the Count to come
to Venice to discuss the matter.
On his arrival he was treated with the greatest
distinction, and a seat was assigned to him by
the side of the Doge. However, the next day,
when Carmagnola presented himself to the latter,
inquiring whether any decision had yet been
arrived at respecting the terms of peace, the Doge
smilingly replied, — " Oh, we have been talking
about you at great length," and thereupon led
him into the next room, where the Senators were

70 ROBA D> ITALIA.
assembled. Immediately on his entrance, Car
magnola was surrounded by the satellites of the
Republican tyrants, disarmed, and then charged
with treason, which of course he denied. Carried
into the torture-chamber, he was racked ; the
wounds he had received in war re-opened ; and a
few hours after he was taken to the Piazzetta,
and beheaded on the spot where only the day
before he had been received with every demon
stration of respect, and amidst the acclamations
of the people, who now stood tamely by, and
tacitly consented to the judicial murder of one
who had served the Republic too well.
The dungeons in the basement of the Ducal
Palace, known as the pozzi, or wells, though not
under the level of the canal, as some romancists
have made them out to be, are yet frightful
places to be shut up in. When I visited them, I
tried to fancy to myself what my feelings would
be if I had to enter one of them as a prisoner,
with the certainty that I should not leave it,
except as a corpse ; or that, if I did leave it, I
should probably go no further than the passage
just outside, to be strangled. A stone den, to
enter which you have to stoop almost double,

VENICE. 71
for the door is scarcely three feet high ; total
darkness, for there are no windows, except in
one or two of the cells; a stone platform to sit
or sleep upon, the silence of the grave, only
broken occasionally by the voice of the jailor, or,
just before the fatal hour, by that of the con
fessor, who, seated outside the cell, listens to the
prisoner's last words at a close grating in the
wall ; regret for schemes unaccomplished, and
aims unattained ; stings of remorse or' impotent
rage at the ingratitude, perchance, or the tyran
nical oppression and fiendish cruelty of former
equals or inferiors, — what agony worse than actual
death itself is this ! For a moment I fancied
myself in that position, and the moment was hell.
And there are people who regret the good old
times when such things were possible !
However, what led me to speak of the pozzi
was the recollection of the fate of Francesco di
Carrara, Lord of Padua, who was besieged in
1380, in his own capital. After a brave resistance,
some traitors opened the gate of Sta Croce.
Then, provided with a safe conduct, Francesco
presented himself to the Venetian general,
Galeazzo, who was ordered by the Provveditori,

72 ROBA D' ITALIA.
or Inquisitors of State, to send him to Venice a
prisoner. Galeazzo dared not resist, but went
himself to Venice, and spoke very strongly in
favour of the prisoner, urging the duty of
respecting the safe-conduct given to Francesco.
When he found the Doge, Andrea Contarini, and
the Provveditori prepared to disregard it, he openly
expressed his indignation. The result was that
a few days after he suddenly died. Nor did
Carrara escape — he, too, must die. A priest
entered the pozzo, into which he had been cast,
to administer to him the last offices of religion,
and almost directly after two members of
the Council of Ten made their appearance with
the executioner and his assistants, provided with
the fatal cord. Francesco, though an old man,
was not inclined tamely to submit to his fate,
but seized a stool — which he had been allowed as
a special favour — and desperately attacked and
wounded some of his murderers. But he was
overpowered and strangled by a Venetian noble,
Bernardo di Priuli, who took upon himself the
office of executioner !
I am glad to leave these dens of past iniquity
and take a stroll on the Piazzetta. It is adorned,

VENICE. 73
as everybody knows, with two granite columns,
the one surmounted by the winged lion of St
Mark, and the other by the statue of St Theodore,
as is commonly said, but really by that of St
George, with the dragon at his feet. During the
reign of Pietro Ciani (1205), three granite columns
were brought from Constantinople to Venice ;
one of them, on being landed, fell into the water,
and could not be brought up again, so that
it must still be lying there ; the other two
were brought on shore, and lay there a long
time before any one could be found able to
raise them.
At last a Lombard, Nicolo Barattiero, — a clever
architect, but whose name is only ignominiously
remembered in the Italian word barattiere, a cheat
or rogue, — undertook to erect the columns ; and
the Italian chronicles of the time relate it as
a very curious and novel fact that he accom
plished the final part of the feat by thoroughly
wetting the ropes. Had the English sailor who,
at the raising of Cleopatra's needle at Alexandria,
when it wanted one more pull to set it up straight,
exclaimed, "Wet the ropes!" read the account
of Barattiero's performance, or did he give the

74 ROBA D* ITALIA.
advice from his own experience ? Probably from
the latter. However, both columns were erected,
and the Lombard asked, for his sole reward, that
it should be lawful to play games of chance be
tween them, to do which publicly was prohibited
in Venice. And it is this circumstance which
has made his name synonymous with cheating.
The inscription on the open book, in the paw of
the lion of St Mark on the top of one of the columns,
is "Pax tibi Marco Evangelista meus," — words whicli,
according to tradition, were addressed to the
apostle by Christ when he appeared to him in
prison. When the French had possession of
Venice, they substituted for that phrase the words
"Liberty, Equality, Fraternity." A gondolier
thereupon is reported to have said that even
the Lion of St Mark was obliged to turn over
a new leaf. It may be true, but it seems to me
to be rather ben trovato. The Italian equivalent
for the English expression "to turn over a new
leaf" is mutar discorso, which in this case cer
tainly would do equally well.
The number of churches in Venice is very
great, and a curious fact with regard to them
is that many of them are dedicated to non-

VENICE. 75
canonized saints, such as Job, Moses, Samuel,
Jeremiah, Daniel, and others. I have mentioned
elsewhere that bodies of saints are plentiful at
Venice; so, I may add, are relics. At S.
Geremia, for instance, they have a tooth of
the prophet ; at S. Moise, they ought to have
one of the horns of the lawgiver ; at S. Giobbe,
a little of the old gentleman's bile ; and one or
two of the lumps, made of pitch, fat, and hair,
which did for the dragon, would be of considerable
interest now that the food question forms a
prominent subject of " social science." There
is, or, at least, there was, a little while ago,
some one persistently advertising in the Athenceum,
— fancy selecting that paper above all others for
such a purpose! — and other papers, for old arti
ficial teeth. The advertiser, perhaps, is a sly
hunter after relics, who in this way hopes to
get hold of all the holy teeth scattered about
the world, so as eventually to open an exhi
bition; if he would also collect all the stray
toe and finger nails the saints have left behind,
he might be admitted to be doing the thing
thoroughly by going at it "tooth and nail."
From grizzly saints and their belongings let

76 ROBA D' ITALIA.
me, like Don Juan, turn to the sweet picture of,
not exactly a Virgin Mary, but a woman, who,
though handsome, did not "do handsome," —
Bianca Cappello. There is a really magnificent
palace in the Rio del Palazzo, called Palazzo
Cappello, but it is not the one from which the i
above-named lady eloped with her somewhat
plebeian lover. It was originally the property of
the family Trevisani, who sold it to Bianca when
she had become Grand Duchess of Tuscany. Tlie
palace from which she made her escape is situate
near the church St Apollinare, and was the
original palazzo of the Cappelli. The career of
Bianca was neither edifying nor fortunate.
A young Florentine, Pietro Bonaventura, — an
appropriate name, — who was a clerk in the
banking-house of the Salviati at Venice, fell in
love with Bianca, whom he had frequent oppor
tunities of seeing on the balcony of her father's
palace, facing his employers' residence. Bianca,
endowed with a warm temperament, yet probably
more weary of the close confinement in which
she, like other young ladies of the time, was
kept, than enamoured of her adorer, — at least,
to judge by her subsequent conduct, — soon re-

VENICE. 77
sponded to his advances, and, by the help of a
devoted maid, managed a stolen interview with
him, which led to others; the result of which
was that, to conceal her condition, Bianca one
night issued from the water-gate for good, and
eloped with her lover to Florence, where they
were married. But the wrath of the Cappelli was
great at this mesalliance, and the pair were
plunged in what almost might be called distress.
However, a young lady of Bianca's birth,
attractions, and romantic history, need not be in
misery longer than she chooses. Florence talked
of her, and the talk came to the ears of the Grand
Duke Francesco, who soon found means of seeing
her, and immediately fell deeply in love with
her. After this, she did not long remain in the
dingy lodgings in which she and her husband had
found refuge. The Grand Duke, out of pure
kindness, installed them in a sumptuous apartment
in the Via Maggio ; and if he frequently came
to see his proteges, why, that was but natural,
though the evil world did make sarcastic remarks.
To further Bianca's ambitions, and the Duke's
amorous designs, it also happened shortly after
that Bianca's husband was found lying murdered

78 ROBA D' ITALIA.
in one of the streets of Florence, and the Grand
Duke's wife died most unexpectedly. Two such
deaths, occurring thus opportunely, could not but
give rise to many ugly suspicions. But Francesco
and Bianca cared little about vulgar gossip, and
my noble Venetian senators, who could not allow
a banker's clerk to " come between the wind and
their nobility," hastily despatched two of their
own body, together with the Patriarch of Aquileia,
to be present and assist at the nuptials of two
assassins, or hirers of assassins. The Venetians,
moreover, adopted Bianca as a daughter of St
Mark, an honour conferred only once before, on
Catherine Cornaro, when she became Queen of
Cyprus. The new Grand Duchess was heartily
detested by the Florentines, and the death of
the Grand Duke's only son by his first wife was
universally attributed to her desire to secure the
succession to her own offspring. But if this was
her desire it was not gratified, for her marriage
with the Duke remained unfruitful, though she
tried every possible means then supposed effective,
beside the natural one, for removing sterility,
such as pilgrimages and sorcery. When nothing
would avail, she pretended to be as ladies wish

VENICE. 79
to bo who love their lords, and at the proper
time produced a child, she had purchased of poor
people, as her own.
But the Tuscans were not to be deceived, and
the suspicions of the infatuated Grand Duke himself
were at last aroused. He made inquiries, which
revealed to him the truth, but he contented himself
with strangling in one of the halls of the Pitti
Palace the Jewish woman who had been Bianca's
confidante in procuring the supposititious heir,
whilst he forgave the real culprit, and was more
in her toils than ever. Cardinal Ferdinand de'
Medici, who had seen with displeasure his brother's
marriage with Bianca, was induced by the Grand
Duke in 1587 to pay a visit to Florence, from
which he had hitherto kept away. The Court
went to Poggia Cajano. Amusements and fes
tivities of every kind succeeded each other, when
suddenly the Grand Duke was taken ill with
what the doctors considered a fever, and a few
days after the Grand Duchess was attacked by
the same malady. Remedies were of no avail,
and both died within a fortnight of the appear
ance of the first symptoms.
There was no doubt that both deaths had

80 ROBA D' ITALIA.
been caused by poison, but how it was admi
nistered, and by whom, will probably ever remain
a mystery. The friends of Francesco hinted that
the Cardinal had poisoned his brother and sister-
in-law ; the supporters of the Cardinal say that
the Grand Duke and his worthy spouse on a
particular occasion in the most pressing manner
invited the Cardinal to partake of a cake specially
made for him, as he was known to be fond of
it. Ferdinand, suspicious of this attention, would
not eat of it alone, and the Grand Duke and
the Duchess were obliged to taste it to lull the
suspicions of their intended victim. They also
relied on the efficacy of a counter-poison they
had in their possession, which, however, they
could not have recourse to before the poisoned
cake had already done its worst in their own
bodies, whilst the Cardinal had managed to con
ceal about his person the pieces he had pretended
to eat.
Either assumption may be met by objections.
The Grand Duke had really no motive strong
enough to lead him to the commission of such
a deed as poisoning his guest, and that guest
his brother; and as the Cardinal was certain to

VENICE. 81
succeed Francesco, since the latter had no heir,
he would scarcely resort to crime merely to an
ticipate his accession to power by a few years.
Moreover, his character, which was frank and
generous, does not justify the supposition. Still,
in those days, and at the Italian Courts, poisoning
was scarcely looked upon in the heinous light
in which we see it now ; and thus the matter,
I suppose, will ever remain an illustration of the
saying : — " What is hits is history,
And what is missed is mystery."
Venice, like Rome, has its Ghetto, but as in
the latter city, so here the Jews are no longer
confined to it. The first habitation assigned to
them was the long island outside Venice, which
then took the name of Giudecca, whilst previously
it had, on account of its shape, been called Spina-
lunga. In 1349 a law was passed forbidding
them to stay in Venice longer than a fortnight,
and compelling them to wear on the breast the
" Jew's mark," a circle or wheel, invented in
1326 by Pope John XXII. In 1426 they were
ordered to wear this mark on the coat-collar,
with a yellow cord attached to it. In 1416
VOL. II. G

82 ROBA D' ITALIA.
already their residence had been transferred from
the Giudecca to that remote part of Venice now
known as the Ghetto, where they were locked
in every night. Even as late as the last century
they were compelled to wear a distinguishing
head-dress, namely, a scarlet hat edged with
black. But times are altered. Many of the Jews now
living at Venice are rich, and therefore honoured.
Here, as elsewhere, whatever they touch, seems
to turn into gold ; whatever vocation they pursue,
it pays. The physician, who, till the end of
1873, when he died, was most run after — by
foreigners, for the natives were rather shy of
him, as they knew from experience that his treat
ment required a considerable amount of time,
and consequently many visits, to cure or kill the
patient — was a Jew, who lived in the palace
formerly belonging to Cardinal Bembo, the lover
of Lucrezia Borgia. The Hebrew community
further numbers among its members bankers and
merchants of considerable repute.
The mention of Lucrezia Borgia reminds me
of the rather curious fact that one of the most
famous and one of the most infamous women

VENICE. 83
of Italy should have been called Lucrezia,
though, I confess, I never can understand how
Tarquin could have carried out his purpose
without some kind of consent on the lady's
part. She was surrounded by a bevy of hand
maidens, and Roman houses were not so extensive
that a cry, meant to have been heard, could not
have reached the ears of one or more of her
attendants. The Palazzo Bembo spoken of above is near
the Rialto. You are expected to go into raptures
at the sight of this bridge, and to admire its as
tounding solidity, though consisting of but one
single arch, with a span of about ninety-one feet,
and though that arch be but one-third of a
circle, whereas, according to an architectural
rule, to give perfect solidity to an arch, it ought
to form a semi-circle. Yet, though this latter
does not appear, as is the case in the bridge in
question, it may be supposed. It exists, in fact,
in the abutments of the bridge, and hence there
is nothing very marvellous in its solidity. As
to its appearance, that, I tliink, would be greatly
improved if the double arcade of shops on its top
were removed; or, suppose the stone-work were
G 2

84 ROBA D' ITALIA.
allowed to remain, the arches ought to be opened
up, by clearing away the wooden screens and
abolishing the shops. The bridge would cer
tainly gain in elegance what the municipality
might lose in rents.
The bridge is built of a white, hard stone, a
kind of marble, which, by constant wear, becomes
very slippery. Many other bridges, and the steps
leading up to them, are built of the same stone,
and the mishaps to which this gives rise are
alluded to in the ancient saying, "Beware of
the four Venetian Ps — Pietra Bianca, P. t. n.,
Prete, and Pantalone," this last being the nick
name the people of the last century gave to the
nobles. Persons interested in Italian literature may
think it worth while to cross the Rialto in order
to go and see the house of Goldoni, the Italian
Moliere, which is near the Campo S. Agostin,
and indicated by the writer's bust and an in
scription. On the Campo itself is an ancient
house, which, according to a tablet let into the
wall, was the printing-office of the famous Aldo
Pio Marazio, who flourished during the reign
ofthe Doge Pasqual Malipiero (1457—1462).

SECTION" "VI.

VENICE.

CHAPTER II.
A NIGHT ON THE LAGOON.
Preparations for spending a Night on the Lagoon — My Gondola,
Gondoliers, and Organ-grinder — Narrow Canal at Night — Enter
the Canale di S. Marco — Church of S. Giorgio Maggiore — Tale
connected therewith — Public Gardens — Island of S. Elena —
Various other Islands — Fort S. Andrea — The Armenian Con
vent — Lowing of Cattle heard on the Island — Organ-grinder
proposes to Serenade the Monks — Arrival at the Lido — Espou
sals of the Adriatic — The Bucentaur— Organ-grinder is Drunk,
and sent back by Steamer — I find the Favorita Gardens already
shut up— Church of S. Nicolb— Body of St Mark— A Dia
bolical Story — A Highly-scented Lady — The Emperor Frederick
lands at the Lido — Canale di S. Pietro — Carrying Off of the
Venetian Brides — The Arsenal — Mitrailleuses not a New
Invention — Church of Celestia — Campanile of the Church
S. Francisco della Vigna a Landmark — A Funeral at Night —
Churchyard on Island— A Haunted House — Palazzo Tiepolo
Underpinned and Foundations Repaired — Sta Maria del OrtO
— Gigantic Statue of St Christopher — Halt for Supper — Gon
dolier's Tale — Pass under the Railway Bridge — Its Influence
on Venetian Prosperity — Campo di Marte — Punta di Sta
Marta — Dawn — Ecco la Mattina ! — Ship Looming Ahead,
Hoisting Sail — Various Islands seen — An English Steamer
aground — Copy of House of Loretto on Island of S. Clemente
— A Cat is found in almost every Venetian Church — The
Piazzetta and Grand Canal in the Morning Light — The Marble
Galleggiante in the Giardinetto — Beauty of Venice on a
Summer's Morning.

86 ROBA D' ITALIA.

CHAPTER II.
A NIGHT ON THE LAGOON.
Ship ahoy ! What cheer, mate ? Splice the main-
brace! Shiver my timbers! A life on the ocean
wave ! Starboard !
Well, says the reader, what is the meaning
of all this sea-slang, genuine and spurious ? The
fact is, I am in a nautical mood, and give vent
to my feelings. For have I not chartered a
gondola, which is now riding at anchor — no, tied,
— no, lashed, — bother these technical terms ! —
to a tall post all down in the dark canal, where
its steel nose gleams like a headsman's axe, call
ing up thoughts of the Bridge of Sighs, secret
executions, and decapitated bodies floating down
to the Lagoon, whilst the tall posts with their
capitals look like poles on which the heads have
been stuck ? But away with such dismal visions I
This is to be a night of festivity and high jinks 1
Have I not, for this night, taken into my service
an organ-grinder — a genuine Italian organ-grinder,
caught up in Venice, whose muddy canals he

VENICE. 87
traverses from morning till night in a crazy
boat, rowed by two sturdy rogues? and how
the three manage to live on the poor centesimi
they pick up is "what no fellow can tell." Not
that my organ-grinder would in England be ac
cepted as a type of the genus. He has no thick
black beard, no fiery glance, no velvet pea-
jacket, no monkey ; there is no speculation in
his eye when he enters a quiet canal as to
what black-mail he may extort for leaving it as
speedily as possible ; no cunning leer at house
or nurse maid as he grinds out a dance tune ;
in fact, nothing that reminds you of the London
Italian organ-grinder. He is a seedy old man,
in shirt-sleeves, and with no hat; what whiskers
nature may give him he shaves off, — all Italians
shave because the King of Italy shaves —
" As hairy courtiers shave their faces smooth,
Whene'er their master is a beardless youth."
Time with his scythe has mowed his head as clean
as an onion; his eyes water, the usual effect of
that esculent, and his whole physique is shaky.
His instrument is one of those upright tinkling
rattle-traps, which remind you of an old spinet
which has gradually dwindled down, and is

88 ROBA D5 ITALIA.
now in a state of consumption. My musician
turns the handle feebly, hence his music is neither
loud nor cheerful. However, he is engaged for
the night : terms, five lire in cash, or rather paper,
— for no coin is now seen in Italy, except at the
money-changers, — and as much food as he can eat,
and as much wine as he can drink. My gon
doliers are to receive twelve lire, and the same
liberal allowance of' creature comforts as the
grinder, for which purpose the good ship, the gon
dola, is well stocked with eatables and drinkables.
The musician is placed in the rear of the black
pavilion, and we start by the light of the moon;
for, of course, I have chosen a night when the moon
is at the full, and —
"  the evening air
Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars."
My object, however, being not only to see the
Lagoon, but also some of the narrow canals, when
wrapt in darkness, I order the gondoliers, instead
of taking the nearest route to the Lagoon, to make a
circuit, so as to reach the Canale di S. Marco by way
of the Rio S. Giugliano and the Rio del Palazzo. But
the aspect of things is dismal. Can this be Venice,
" of joy the sojourn"? I ask myself. The Vene-

VENICE. 89
tians must be an early set, for scarcely a light is
seen at the windows high above us ; the few lamps
here and there projecting from the walls cast but
feeble rays over what seems to be a Stygian river ;
not a sound is heard, save the splashing of the
oars and the gondolier's mournful cry as he ap
proaches a corner. The very air is oppressive, and
I feel relieved when the gondola at last, passing
under the high arch of the -Bridge of Sighs, and
skirting the heavily-grated air-holes of the subter
ranean prisons of the ducal palace — the so-called
pozzi or wells — reaches the airy Ponte della Paglia,
the first stone bridge erected at Venice (1360),
and so called because boats laden with straw and
hay used to lay-to there. We shoot this bridge
and out into the Canale di S. Marco, as that part
of the Lagoon is called.
Here my journey really begins, and I order
the organ-grinder to announce the fact by a flourish
of his instrument. He, who hitherto has kept
silence, for fear of exciting the envy of cats and
provoking their competition, now begins to make
night hideous with his lugubrious strains ; these,
and the Chinese lanterns with which my gondola
is hung round, attract considerable attention from

90 ROBA D' ITALIA.
the surrounding shores, and some pleasant chaff
passes between my gondoliers and a few benighted
travellers they encounter. We advance into the
middle of the stream, and look back upon Venice.
The city is very still, and seems almost deserted ;
the palaces and churches look fantastic, faintly
illumined as they are by the moon, while the
many gas flames along the Giardino Reale, the
Piazzetta, and the Riva delli Schiavoni, by their
reflection in the calm water, form immense slender
pillars of light. Turning away from the city we
have before us to the right the entrance to the
Grand Canal, with the beautiful churcli of S. Maria
della Salute, and on the left the island S. Giorgio
Maggiore, with the church of the same name — both
churches, strangely enough, having custom-houses
beside them, — God and mammon brought into very
close juxtaposition. The church of S. Giorgio
Maggiore is of very ancient date. In 982 there
was annexed to it a monastery of the Order of S.
Benedict ; the island was covered with gardens
and vineyards, and a flour-mill for the use of the
Doges stood on it.
In 1205, a son of the Doge Peter Ziani having
been bitten by a dog on the island, he revenged

VENICE. 91
himself by burning down the church and abbey,
and roasting some of the monks in the fire. His
governor, as modern sons call their fathers, had
to make it all right with the Pope, which he did
by re-building the church and monastery. But
in 1229 they were thrown down by an earthquake,
whereupon the church was re-built as it now stands.
The channel between the island and the
Giudecca is the nearest way to Chioggia. But
we are bound for the Lido, and therefore keep
to the left, making for the Giardini Pubblici.
They were created by Napoleon I. on the site of
an ancient monastery and some islands formerly
overflown by the sea. Being far from the real
life of the city, forming, in fact, the tail-fin of
the great flounder which floats in the Lagoon
under the name of Venice, they are but little
visited, and form one of the most melancholy
spots in the , whole city. Formerly the little
steamers running between Venice and the Lido
used to call at the landing-stairs of the Gardens,
but finding that no one ever wanted to go there,
or came on board from them, they prudently
left the place to its own desolation.
At the outermost point there is a little knoll,

92 ROBA D! ITALIA.
on which stands what is grandiloquently called a
cafe, but which, in fact, is a dilapidated beershop,
where people who are meditating on suicide take
a final glass. I think it was the late Syndic of
Venice who proposed to enlarge the Gardens by
filling in the shallow space between them and
the island of S. Elena, thus connecting them with
this island, and forming one large park of the
three sites. But as the Venetians cared very
little for the Gardens as they are, they cared still
less for their enlargement, and so the project
ended, like many other schemes, in smoke. And
I am very glad of it, for it would have been a
pity to have spoilt the little island of S. Elena,
which, except that of S. Lazzaro, on which the
Armenian Convent is situated, is the prettiest
island in the whole Lagoon. A portion of it is
covered by buildings, including a church dedicated
to S. Elena, the mother of Constantine, who, as
St Ambrose says, kept a lodging-house for single
gentlemen, by which she gained her living. I
suppose the saint owed her a grudge, and paid it
when he said so, for even saints can be spiteful.
The church was turned into a dep6t of military
stores by the Austrians, and is consequently quite

VENICE. 93
dismantled. The other buildings are gradually
going to ruin. The garden that surrounds them
is in a state of total neglect, since no one lives
on the island except a custode. But, during the
Austrian rule, the Count de Chambord kept it in
very good order, and used to give his garden-
parties there. Charitable societies and convivial
parties now occasionally hold their feasts there.
The "quality" that used to attend the fetes of
the King of France in spe, is replaced by members
of burial clubs and similar benefit societies, of
equally, un-aristocratic pretensions. But beautiful
trees, native and exotic, still overshadow the
lawns, now overgrown with weeds ; and as I
pass by, the night breeze plays among their
branches, as through an iEolian harp. The
romantic charm and solitude of the island, alas !
are doomed to destruction. The municipality of
the city of Venice intend erecting on it a hospital
and a petroleum depot.
A nice look-out this for the patients ; they will
be placed between two dangers, for while on one
side they will have the Charybdis of petroleum,
on the other the Scylla of gunpowder will threaten
them with annihilation, there being a large powder-

94 ROBA D' ITALIA.
magazine on the now desolate island of La Certosa,
which is very close to S. Elena. The island of
La Certosa, also known by the name of S. Andrea
del Lido, on account of the Fort of S. Andrea,
built on a slip of land adjoining the island, once
boasted of a large church, full of sumptuous tombs
and paintings by Basaiti and Titian. At first it
was inhabited by a fraternity of Augustine monks,
but was afterwards ceded to Carthusian friars.
But, instead of the chants of monks, I now only
hear the monotonous tread of the sentinel pacing
up and down on the lonely shore. Still I detect
something appropriate in turning a monkery into
a powder-magazine, for did not a monk invent
gunpowder? And there is but little difference
between "monk" and "monkey," and do we not
speak of " powder-monkeys "?
As my eye wanders over the Lagoon, I behold
to the right the island of S. Lazzaro with the
square campanile, surmounted by a small dome,
of the Armenian convent. The aspect of this
building, with its red walls surrounded by foliage
of the richest green, and anchored, as it were,
like a floating garden with a summer-palace in
it in the midst of the bright and limpid waters,

VENICE. 95
in the day-time forms one of the most striking,
most pleasing, and most poetic features of the
Lagoon. Now nothing is to be distinguished but the
outlines of the various buildings, and in one or two
windows I behold a light, where probably some stu
dious monk is consuming the midnight oil in decipher
ing an ancient MS., or collating different authors.
The island owes its name to the fact that there
formerly stood on it a hospital for lepers, for the
erection of which the Republic, in 1182, had
purchased the island, till then totally uninhabited
and uncultivated, from one Paolini. When the
disease of leprosy ceased to afflict Africa and Asia,
and consequently also disappeared in Europe, the
buildings on the island were abandoned, and
went to decay, serving as a place of refuge only
to some poor fishermen. In 1715, twelve Armenian
monks, under the leadership of Mekhithar, which
in Armenian signifies "the Consoler," flying from
the Turkish invasion of the Morea, where they
had been settled, came to Venice, and, in 1717,
the Senate ceded to them in perpetuity the island
of S. Lazzaro for the erection of a convent, which
was not completed until 1740 under the direction
of their original leader. As I look upon the con-

96 ROBA D' ITALIA.
vent, the shade of Byron, who stayed there for
some weeks, rises up : Byron living in a monastery
seems as great an anomaly as the name of the
giver of the mummy preserved in the library
appears appropriate — he was called Boghos-bey.
Although most of the islands of the Lagoon
are countrified, yet you hear none of the sounds
commonly heard in the country, because there are
no large animals; but suddenly I am agreeably
surprised by hearing the lowing of cattle — for we
have slowly been approaching the island — and
then I remember that the brethren have erected
comfortable stables at one corner of their abode,
where they keep a number of handsome cows,
which are every morning taken in a boat across
to the grazing grounds on the Lido, whence they
are fetched back in the evening. I almost fancy
myself in Switzerland, the thing has such a pastoral
air about it.
The organ-grinder, who is very ignorant, and,
therefore, has a great respect for religious com
munities, proposes that we should serenade the
monks; but as I am doubtful of the manner in
which they would receive the compliment, and
that, in annoying them, I might offend the Turkish

VENICE. 97
flag, which I had seen floating from a tall mast
in the garden, and which was presented to them
by the Sultan, I order the wretch to mind his
own business, which he does by grinding out a
dance tune. Thereupon I threaten to leave him
and his horrible instrument exposed on some dry
sand or, rather, mud bank. Thus I succeed in
silencing him, and he seeks consolation in the
wine-bottle. My gondoliers look at him askance,
as if it were hardly fair, but the prospect of a
long rest and plentiful feed at our first stage,
namely, the Favorita, puts a stop to their murmurs.
The Favorita is a kind of mild, diluted Cremorne,
on the Lido, where concerts are given in a hand
some large hall, and dancing takes place twice
a week till two or three in the morning. At
least, such is the popular belief, and as this is
a dancing night, I promise myself considerable
amusement, not indeed in joining, but in looking
on. The lights on the long jetty, where steamers
and gondolas discharge their freights, form a
bright line against the dark horizon, a kind of
luminous avenue to the enchanted gardens of the
Lido,' — that narrow strip of land which is a favourite
sea-bathing resort of the Venetians of the present
VOL. II. H

98 ROBA D' ITALIA.
day, and which in the days of the Republic was
thickly populated, and adorned with many noble
residences; for it was at the Porto di Lido that the
Doge held his espousals of the Adriatic, and from
the Bucentaur — navilium ducentorum hominum,
because intended to carry two hundred men —
threw into the sea the ring, the prototype of
which had been given to the Doge Sebastiano
Ziani by Pope Alexander III.
Of course, these espousals must have been a
very fine sight to people who are fond of
upholstery and court-millinery ; but the Doge's
"  nuptial couch was all aquatic,
When he went forth to wed the Adriatic," —
which could scarcely be comfortable, nor was his
bride always clean, for the sewage then went
into the canals, and thence into the Lagoon.
Even now, though there is a fine of twenty lire
for throwing dirt or rubbish of any kind into
a canal, it is constantly done. The kitchen re
fuse, and worse filth, I have seen thrown daily
into the canal under my window at the hotel
was enough to sicken any stomach, and perhaps
at that very time two or three men or boys
were bathing in the canal, and stirring up the

VENICE. 99
mud and ordure abounding in it. Looked upon
as an act of State policy, the Wedding of the
Adriatic was about as great a farce as Xerxes
putting the sea in chains, or the Lord Mayor
of London holding his annual show.
Certes, the Bucentaur was a much more hand
some affair than is the Lord Mayor's stage-coach,
as may be judged from the model of the former
in the Arsenal at Venice, and I have looked at
it with great curiosity ; yet in that same es
tablishment, and close to the Bucentaur, there
is another model of far higher interest : the model
of a ship, whose commander, though he was no
Pope, but something much nobler than any Pope,
really bestowed on man the empire of the seas, —
the model of the caravel in which Columbus made
his first voyage, and performed the greatest of
maritime enterprises.
However, while indulging in these reflections,
my gondoliers have brought me to the jetty,
and I land, telling them to await my return, and,
in the mean time, to eat, drink, and be merry.
The organ-grinder being already fuddled, or, as
I may appropriately say, half-seas over, I order
him to be packed off by the steamer lying along-
h 2

100 ROBA D' ITALIA.
side, and just ready to start on its return journey
to Venice. Therefore he vanishes, and will be
heard of no more in the annals of this memorable
night. I, on pleasant adventures bound, pass
along the jetty and traverse the lane between
hedgerows leading up to the Favorita Gardens,
where a few thousand lamps, joyous music, and
the presence of fair Venetian women, one of
whom may, perhaps, become my companion on
my aquatic wanderings, — and the pavilion of a
gondola is the place most fit for a mysterious
conference, a sort of raft of Tilsit, where you
are safe from observation and intrusion, — await
me. Delicious dream, followed, like all delicious
dreams, by an awakening to a sad reality ! On
reaching the gardens, instead of meeting with
the delights anticipated, I find the music gone,
the last guests taking their departure, and the
waiters putting out the lights. " It is the cholera,
and the consequent absence of forestieri," one of
the waiters explains. Thus I discover this sup
posed
" Pleasant place of all festivity '
to be a hermit's habitation, that is, a sell, and
make up my mind never to believe guide-books

VENICE. 101
and local newspapers again, both being crammed
with shameless puffs. In one guide of Venice,
for instance, I read in the description of the
Lido : " Gardens, groves, roads for carriages, inns,
restaurants, cafes, offering every possible comfort,
and combined with these the beautiful sky of
Venice, the hospitality and gentle manners of
its inhabitants .... the enjoyment of the balmy
and fresh air of this strip of land, in which
nature and art unite to render it an abode of
delights." And between you and me, the greater
portion of the Lido is but a sandy waste.
The Venetian newspapers, of course, are full
of the grand doings on the Lido. The proprietors
of the Favorita, who also own the Hotel Danieli
and the steamers plying between the two points,
advertise their gardens as "the place to spend
a happy day "; but unless you bring your own
happiness with you, or find a pleasure in seeing
some honest citizen committing an extravagance
and dining there cd fresco with his wife and
children, who will probably presently come and
paw you with their greasy fingers, wanting you
to play with them, at which exuberance of youthful
spirits the parents will smile with proud satisfaction,

102 ROBA D' ITALIA.
— unless you have such tastes you will find very
little there to amuse you.
The reader need not wonder at my grumbling
at the place, for have I not just been thoroughly
swindled, and had all my plans and calculations
for the night rudely overthrown ? At the Favo
rita Gardens I hoped, as it were, to break the
neck of the night, to get deep into it before I
set out on my adventurous course ; they were to
be my Canary Islands before I took a final leave
of the known land. However, like Pizarro on
the lonely island, I trace a line on the jetty, to
which I have returned, and give my gondoliers
the choice between the city opposite, with its
security and comfortable beds, and the waste of
waters around, and its possible fatigues and
dangers. They manfully choose the latter, and
we set forth on our voyage round Venice.
For a time we hug the coast — I suppose the
ship's husband hugs the ship's waist — and pre'
sently pass the church of S. Nicolo, erected in
1044 by the Doge Domenico Contarino, who was
buried there. In 1100 the body of S. Nicolo
was brought thither from Smyrna. The ancient
Venetians seem to have been very fond of

VENICE. 103
bringing home bodies of departed saints, as
ballast, I suppose, and even to have stolen them,
as they did that of St Mark, when they could
not get them for love or money, for there are
upward of one hundred of them in the various
churches of the city and islands around. In the
church of S. Apollinare, near the Rialto, for
instance, they preserve the body of the prophet
Jonah, which reminds one very much of a whale.
But the saints were not ungrateful ; nowhere did
their corpses perform more or greater miracles,
so that buying dead saints seems a capital spec,
to be recommended to any one looking out for a
safe and profitable investment. As long as
there are fools in the world — and the fools are
always with you — saintship will pay.
St Mark, as the patron saint of the city,
of course was expected to come out strong, and
he did. In 1094, at which time the Venetians
had quite forgotten where their ancestors had
stowed away the stolen saint, a special day of
prayer, fasting, and penitence was appointed for
the people to humble themselves— the people are
always expected to fast and repent whenever
their masters have committed some great crime

104 ROBA D' ITALIA.
or blunder, witness the day of fasting anent the
disasters in the Crimea — and invoke Heaven to
point out the spot where the saint was rotting
away. Heaven gave the latter a hint to keep
up the credit of special intercession ; but he
being, I suppose, somewhat sulky at the neglect
with which he had so long been treated, only
pushed one arm out of the ground. But this
was enough for his worshippers ; they imme
diately dug him out, and set him up in the
church dedicated to him. After being so hand
somely provided for, it would have been the
height of ingratitude had he not occasionally
vivified his old bones, and come out to show
himself, even if he only did so to a select few.
The following is an account of one of his
rare apparitions.
In March, 1341, the waters of the Lagoon rose
to an extraordinary height, which, as the honest
chronicler whom I follow says, justifies belief in
the wonderful things narrated by a gondolier.
To him, on the night of this inundation, three
men presented themselves, and compelled him to
take them to the Lido. The starting-point was
the Piazzetta. As soon as they had reached their

VENICE. 105
destination, they encountered a ship manned, or,
I should say, devilled, by devils, who played
all kinds of devilry, and stirred up the waves.
The three men having, to use Miltonian language,
"blown up" the devils, the storm and inunda
tion ceased. The first of the three men landed
at the church of S. Nicolo, the second at that
of S. Giorgio Maggiore, and the third was
taken back to St Mark. This last, instead of
paying the gondolier in coin, gave him a ring,
with orders to take it to the Senate, who would
not fail to satisfy him. He at the same time
declared to the gondolier that the first passenger,
who had landed at the Lido, was S. Nicolo him
self; that the second gentleman was S. Giorgio,
and that he himself was St Mark.
In these degenerate days a gondolier, on
finding he had carried so many distinguished
passengers, and was to be put off with a ring,
of perhaps Brummagem manufacture, instead of
receiving substantial payment, would look upon
it as an attempted hoax, and call a policeman.
But in the fourteenth century faith was still
strong ; and so the gondolier in question humbly
and reverently accepted the ring, and carried it

106 ROBA D' ITALIA.
next day to the Senate, who immediately recog
nized it as the ring of the patron saint of the
city, and amply rewarded the pious boatman.
We meet with no ship-load' of devils, nor,
though we are off the church of S. Nicolo,
with Old Nick himself, which I am somewhat
sorry for, because, since the time that sulphur
cured my rheumatism, I rather like the smell of
it; nor with the saint, which I am glad of,
because the odour of sanctity is rather musty,
and has no connexion with that of clean linen.
Yet the mention of clean linen suddenly
reminds me of another historical personage con
nected with the church of S. Nicolo, namely, the
Doge Domenico Silvio, the successor of Contarino,
who had founded the church of S. Nicolo. He
was proclaimed in that very church immediately
after the burial of his predecessor. He began
adorning the church of St Mark with the mosaics
which even now excite our admiration. But in
the matter of ornament he was far surpassed by
his wife, who seemed specially created to verify
the Greek sage's definition of woman, C&ov frXoKoo-pov,
— "an animal that loves finery." She was so
dainty as regarded her body that' she refused to

VENICE. 107
wash herself with common water. She would,
indeed, have been as good as an annuity to a
modern manufacturer of the poisonous and filthy
stuffs called cosmetics. Nor would she touch her
food with her fingers, but always used a golden
spoon, a habit which was quite a shocking inno
vation in those days, and considered by eminent
theologians, whatever that may mean, somewhat
unscriptural. Her bed, says Damiano, — but, as
this savours somewhat of scandal, I will say her
boudoir, — was so strongly perfumed that all who
entered it were glad to get out again. But
excessive luxuriousness is dangerous, and so it
came to pass that in course of time her body
became so infirm and corrupt, by the artificial
means she had taken to make it beautiful for
ever, that even water, which she had so much
despised, would not wash away the putrid matter
which issued from the sores with which she
became covered.
The church of S. Nicolo was the scene of
many festivities, which one would hardly svu>
mise from its present desolate and shabby
appearance. It was the spot to which the Vene*
tian authorities generally repaired to receive

108 ROBA D' ITALIA.
distinguished generals on their return home, or
illustrious visitors. Thus the nobility of Venice
went to S. Nicolo to receive Antonio Veniero
(1381), the military commander of Candia, who
had been recalled to assume the office of Doge,
and who is chiefly remembered on account of his
stern justice towards his own son, whom he
allowed to die in prison for an insult offered to
a noble Venetian lady. When the Emperor
Frederick and his wife Leonore came to Venice
on a visit (1451), the latter stayed for three days
at S. Nicolo, so that her entry into the city
might be all the more splendid. On the fourth
she was received on board the Bucentaur, where
the Doge's wife and two hundred ladies, distin
guished for rank and beauty, attended her across
the Lagoon.
But let us get on across the Lagoon, we have
loitered here too long. We leave the Lido, and
make for the island of S. Pietro di Castello,
whose tall marble campanile stands boldly out
against the sky. We pass the Punta di Quinta-
valle, so called because the family of that name
once owned the greater portion of the island,
and, proceeding up the Canale di S. Pietro, shoot

VENICE. 109
the long wooden bridge connecting the island
with the mainland. On our right is the church
of S. Pietro, where the Doges were crowned
before the completion of the church of St Mark.
Its campanile, referred to above, was built during
the reign of the Doge Christopher Moro.
It was from this church, and not from Sta
Maria Formosa, as Murray says, that the Venetian
Brides were carried off by the pirates. In the
early days of the Republic, it was customary for
people who intended to go under the matrimonial
yoke to assemble on the last day of January in
the above church, where the victims were sacrificed
in the presence of the Bishop, chief dignitaries,
and as many spectators as could get inside the
building. Now in the year 568, others say 943,
a number of these victims had just had sentence
passed on them, when a piratical crew, who had
come across from Istria on purpose, suddenly
rushed into the church, and carried off the brides,
and, of course, all their finery and ornaments,
from their newly - fledged " Benedicks," some of
whom had probably already begun to repent, and
secretly hoped the pirates would safely get away
with their booty. But the company of smiths,

110 ROBA D' ITALIA.
who chiefly inhabited the quarter of Sta Maria
Formosa, officiously interfered, quickly manned a
galley, pursued the pirates, and, coming upon
them as they were quarrelling over the spoil,
made short work of them, killing them and
throwing their bodies into the sea, and triumph
antly brought back the young ladies, not much
the worse for their adventure, which, of course,
made them very interesting creatures ever after.
The smiths, being asked by the Doge to name
the reward they expected for their prowess,
stipulated that he, his wife, and the Signoria, his
councillors, should pay an annual visit to the
church of their sestiero, or quarter; and this is
the only connexion Sta Maria Formosa ever had
with the Rape of the Venetian Brides. The
customary visit was abolished in the fourteenth
century. But let us proceed. Silence and darkness are
around us. The desolation becomes perfect as we
re-enter the Lagoon, and pass the Porta Nuova
of the Arsenal. The epithet of Nuova is scarcely
applicable now, as the gate was constructed in
1826. It may, by the way, be observed that a
gate had existed there in more ancient times,

VENICE. Ill
but it was walled up in 1516. Turning the sharp
angle of the Arsenal, we have nothing on our
left but the dead wall of that establishment, on
our right an apparently boundless waste of waters.
But though the Present offers me nothing worthy
of observation, the Past rises up before me. In
the vast buildings and docks I am now dimly
beholding by the light of the moon, I recognize
the laboratory, so to speak, where the greatness
of Venice was founded and wrought out. Hence
departed for important maritime enterprises, mili
tary and commercial, those fleets which proved
Venice to be the greatest naval power of the
fifteenth century. These fleets returned laden
either with the spoils of war or the produce of
commerce, the latter amounting in value to four
millions of golden ducats a year. Venice at that
time possessed 3,000 vessels of from 10 to 200
tons burden, manned by 17,000 sailors; 300
large vessels, with 8,000 sailors, besides 45 large
galleys, — in all, 3,345 merchant vessels, giving
occupation to 36,000 sailors, besides 16,000 artisans
engaged in ship-building, repairing, &c. As to
the exploits of the Venetian navy in battles and
sieges, are they not depicted in the palace of

112 ROBA D' ITALIA.
her Doges on miles of canvas, worth its weight
in rubies and diamonds ?
Venice fell, it is true, and her military glory
is gone for ever. The destructive exhalations of
Fate, and, still more, the poisonous breath of the
vices of her own children, have dimmed the
brightness of the Venetian glass ; but as the pure
crystal, as soon as the darkening agent is removed,
of its own accord, by its own inherent virtue,
re-assumes its original lustre, so Venice is now
gradually recovering some of her former splen
dour. She again shines forth as the genitrix and
servitrix of Art. The hundred thousand tra
vellers that crowd her canals every year again
make her " Of joy the sojourn, and of wealth the mart,"
and her commercial importance is gradually re
asserting itself. The statistics of the last thirty
years, with which I will not bore the reader,
show that the activity in the port of Venice is
increasing from year to year, and has already
assumed proportions which place that' city, con
sidered as a commercial port, on a level with
such a place, for instance, as Odessa.
I cannot leave the Arsenal without once more

VENICE. 113
referring to its model room, to give another proof
of the truth of the adage that there is nothing
new under the sun. When the French at the
commencement of the Franco-German war brought
forward their mitrailleuses as something new,
they were generally accepted as such. But in
the Armoury of the Arsenal there are about a
dozen mitrailleuses, some dating from the sixteenth
century. The Strasbourg Museum also formerly contained
some of those engines of war, notably one with
thirty-two barrels. It is now, I believe, in the
Hotel des Invalides in Paris.
As we row along the gloomy wall of the
Arsenal, one pleasant sound, though not uttered
in a friendly spirit, greets our ears, — the bark of
a dog. Bark on, thou four-footed guardian ! a
watch-dog's voice heard in the stillness of the
night is disagreeable to none but a thief!
Further on, just before you have passed the
Arsenal, the gondoliers point out to me a building
within the Arsenal precincts, which is the ancient
church of Celestia, now used for stores. Three
famous persons were buried in it, — Lorenzo Celsi,
the Doge during whose reign Petrarch conveyed
VOL. II. I

114 ROBA D' ITALIA.
his library to the Venetian Senate, which in return
conferred on the poet the Palazzo delle due Torri,
close to the church S. Sepolcro, on the Riva delli
Schiavoni; Carlo Zeno, who in the war with
Chioggia (1380) saved Venice from imminent
peril; and Trifone Gabriello, a famous writer,
called the " New Socrates."
Shortly after passing this the campanile of the
church S. Francesco della Vigna presents itself.
This tower is the first building of this kind seen
on entering the Lagoon from the sea, and forms
a landmark for sailors. The reason why the
church has the cognomen of Delia Vigna is said to
be that S. Bernardo, who resided at S. Francesco
del Diserto, on tho Lido, where there were vine
yards, for the greater convenience of himself and
his brethren, came to live at the convent adjoining
this church, and gave it that cognomen to com
memorate the fact of this transmigration.
Close to the church are the gasworks which
supply that side of Venice, and the gondoliers
kindly informed me that the work went on there
all night, as shortly after they enlightened my
ignorance as to ebb and tide, and were surprised
when I told them I had heard something

VENICE. 115
about these marine phenomena when I was at
school. By-and-by we skirt along the gloomy wall of
the Civic Hospital, when suddenly a light appears
from under the bridge which crosses the Riva dei
Mendicanti at its junction with the Lagoon. The
light proceeds from a gondola, rather larger than
gondolas usually are, and I am told it is a funeral
gondola — a water-hearse, carrying corpses across
to the Cimiterio, which is on a small island to
our right, and part of whose surrounding wall,
newly constructed, faintly shows in the moonlight.
A dismal sight this silent funeral at night, across
the deserted Lagoon — Charon's boat ferrying the
defunct to the shore whence, there is no return.
There are two priests in the boat and two coffins.
The priests are dozing, and dropping the wax
from their tapers over their rusty gowns — all for
the good of the Church, or rather its ministers,
who derive a considerable portion of their income
from the re-sale of wax tapers for which the friends
of the deceased have paid the shopkeeper.
In that part of the cemetery set aside for
foreigners, and which is occupied chiefly by the
remains of English, German, and Russians, is the
i2

116 ROBA d' ITALIA.
tomb of James, the novelist, covered, if I re
member rightly, with a flat stone. I stated that
the cemetery is on an island ; it would have been
more correct to have said on two islands joined.
Till the year 1813 it was, indeed, an island, known
since 1426 by the name of S. Cristoforo della
Pace, on account of a church erected there (and
still standing) to that saint, by a hermit of the
name of Simon, in memory of the peace he had
concluded between the Republic and Filippo Maria,
Duke of Milan. In 1813 the island was joined to
the island of S. Michael by filling up the canal
separating them. The latter island was inhabited
by Camaldolese monks. There is a handsome
church, with some ancient and fine monuments,
on that part of the twin island.
Leaving the floating hearse, with its funeral
lamp shining- like an ignis fatuus over the
waters, to pursue its dismal course,, we proceed,
and presently come to a wide expanse of water,
forming a square recess, used as a timber depot.
At its northern angle is a house of moderate dimem
sions, with nothing outwardly to attract attention ;
but what of that ? In its interior it has a ghost ;
it is haunted ! For many years it stood empty.

VENICE. 117
No one could live in it. The few adventurous
unbelievers in ghosts that presumed to take it
for their residence were quickly driven out by
fearful and unaccountable noises which were heard
in it during the night-time.
Now here was an opportunity I had long wished
for — to meet a real ghost; and I was about to
order the gondoliers to row me to it, when they
informed me that now it was inhabited by two
men employed at the timber depot, and that
since they lived in it not the shadow of a ghost
had shown his face there.. This comes from
giving up such a place to vulgar people, who
cannot appreciate the joke of a ghost going on
the rampage, and playing the pranks which have
formed their legitimate amusement since they
(the ghosts) were first invented. The house ought
to have been handed over to a spiritualistic
medium, and the fashionable world might have
attended the seances of a duly authorized and
authenticated spirit. I commend the considera
tion of this suggestion to the Municipality of
Venice, who, as the descendants of the ancient
merchant princes, are, no doubt, always alive to
a good investment.

118 ROBA D' ITALIA.
At one of the inner angles of the square enclosure
is the ancient Abbey della Misericordia, now turned
to secular uses. I only refer to it because, in its
vicinity, is the Palazzo Tiepolo, where the ever
lasting Sansovino performed a feat almost as
great as that performed by a Yankee architect
when he moves a house from one street to
another. The foundations of the palace began
to give way, and, in order to render the building
secure, Sansovino removed portions of the founda
tion, underpinned the palace, and rebuilt the
former gradually, till all was new, the pro
prietor and his family not quitting the palace
one single day. The same architect performed
a similar operation at the central portion of the
cathedral of S. Marco.
Leaving the Casa dei Spiriti behind us, we
proceed onward, and presently espy the campanile
of Sta Maria del Orto. This churcli is one of
the gems of Venetian ecclesiastical architecture,
and also contains many excellent paintings.
During the Austrian rule the churcli was used
by the military as a hay-store, but since then it
has been restored. A gigantic statue, however,
of St. Christopher, which formerly stood over

VENICE. 119
the high altar, — this church also was anciently
dedicated to that saint, — has disappeared. Con
cerning this statue, tradition said that it repre
sented the exact proportions of that holy giant's
stature. One of his knee-pans — so the legend
runs — was, in 1470, brought from England, and
Moranzone, a sculptor of the time, from that
built up the whole body, as our naturalists, with
the aid of a single tooth, restore an antediluvian
monster, — a feat they may accomplish with con
siderable safety against being found out, even if
they are wrong, since nobody can prove the
new monster they create never to have existed
before. The original ceiling of the church, which is
now gone, was similar to that of the church of
S. Ignazio at Rome. Taking your stand on
one particular spot on the floor of the church
and looking up, you saw ranges of columns and
pilasters, with their bases, shafts, capitals, and
cornices painted with a perspective so correct
that they seemed to be in their natural positions,
viz., upright.
The night is now considerably advanced, and
my gondoliers have been at work for some time,

120 ROBA D' ITALIA.
so when I propose a halt and refreshments, they
have not a word to say against either. The
gondola is lashed to one of the clusters of posts
whicli in all directions rise out of the Lagoon,
indicating the navigable canals. I unpack the
eatables ; the gondoliers have brought themselves
a pot-bellied flask full of what they call wine,
but which to me, on my tasting it at their request,
seems to be vinegar. I hand to them a large
joint of beef and a couple of fowls, and about
half-a-dozen small loaves, and think they will be
occupied over them for some time. But before
I- have finished my own less voluminous repast,
beef, fowls, bread, and wine have altogether dis
appeared, nor are there even any fragments left. I
never saw such healthy appetites ; they even
finish the viands I have left, and find room some
where or other within their elastic skins for a
couple of bottles of Bass's Pale Ale, the drinking of
which is an entirely new excitement for them ; in
fact, I begin to fear for their steadiness after it ; how
ever, it only makes them loquacious, and in return
for having crammed them with food and drink,
they begin to cram me with tales of wonder ;
but as they speak the worst form of Venetian

VENICE. 121
dialect, their tales, being half-unintelligible, lose
half their interest for me.
As we are lying just opposite the church
Del Orto, they tell me, among other things, that
the campanile is really the holy Christopher
himself, who has assumed that form to watch
over his church. "Then," I ask, "why did he
not keep the Austrian soldiers out of it ?" This
is a poser; but eventually they solve it by
assuming that he was an Austrian himself; in
fact, when they come to think of it, they are
almost sure he was, for he is a very surly fellow,
who strikes the moment he sees you look at
him. I do look at him, and he strikes — two
o'clock, two more nails in the coffin of Time,
whose vibratory groans we can hear to their
faintest echoes ; for the most perfect stillness
reigns all around, the water is as calm as a
pond, and sheeted with the light of the moon
and the stars that look down lovingly on their
favourite child, the Venetian bride, and the air
is as balmy as I have felt it in that region of
bliss, Naples and its environs. It is a pity that
on this side of Venice the Lagoon presents none
of those picturesque islands to be seen on its

122 ROBA D' ITALIA.
south-western expanse. The north-eastern boun
dary of the city also is all desolation. Poor,
dreary houses, shanties, wharves, pieces of waste
ground and ruined walls, are all that is to be
seen in that quarter.
Having, then, made sail — I mean set the oars
in motion — again, we have no inducement to
linger along this inhospitable shore; and, having
rounded the point where the Bersaglio, or shoot
ing-ground, is situated, another point with a fort,
dismantled in 1848, the dreary-looking church
Delle Penitenti, and the public slaughter-houses,
we come to the railway bridge across the Lagoon.
As the Bucentaur was the symbol of an imagi
nary union of Venice with the sea, this bridge
is the actuality of a real union with the main
land — with the Continent of Europe. It was
over this bridge that I had entered Venice ; and
though here, as at Rome, the entrance into the
city by rail may destroy some of the romantic
aspects of a first arrival, yet when we consider
that, whilst Venice loses none of the advantages
of its insular position, its material prosperity has
already been, and will further be, greatly pro
moted by this connexion with the great centres

VENICE. 123
of commerce and industry of the valleys of the
Po, Adige, Bacchiglione, Brenta, Sile, &c, and
the roads descending from the Alps and Apen
nines, — when we consider this, we cannot regret
that the locomotive should have invaded even
the city accustomed hitherto to enshroud herself
in silent and solitary grandeur. Certes, what as
yet forms her peculiar attractions will eventually
be swept away, her canals filled up, — already a
succession of streets, forming one continuous
route, in some parts wide enough for two car
riages abreast, leads all the way from the Rialto
to the railway station, — houses of the modern
uniform and tasteless style will occupy the places
of ancient picturesque palaces ; but it will not
be in our time, and aprds nous le deluge !
The bridge is historically memorable for the
important part it played in the siege operations
during the year 1849, when Venice was blockaded
by land and sea by the Austrians. The reader
will remember that Venice had thrown off the
Austrian yoke. Hence the efforts of the latter
power to recover the lost territory. About half
way between Mestre and the land end of the
railway bridge stands the fort of Malghera. This

124 ROBA D' ITALIA.
at first was held by the Venetians, but they
were compelled to abandon it, as well as that
of S. Giuliano, which stands in the Lagoon, just
opposite the head of the bridge. The Austrians,
of course, immediately occupied both forts; but
at the moment of their taking possession of the
latter, a mine, which the Venetians had con
nected with the powder-magazine, caused the
latter to explode, by which four officers and
forty men were killed, their mangled limbs being
scattered all over the water. The Austrians after
wards connected S. Giuliano with the railway
viaduct by means of a wooden bridge, which
soon became designated among them as the
Bridge of Death, because of the many men killed
on its exposed surface by the Venetian gunners
stationed at the fort S. Secondo, also close to
the railway bridge, but nearer to Venice. Of the
two hundred and twenty-two arches of which the
bridge consists, nineteen were destroyed by the
Venetians to prevent the approach of the Austrians,
who, in fact, never could advance beyond the
space the Venetians had surrendered to them.
Some of the arches were converted into powder-
magazines, hospitals, and casemates, rendered

VENICE. 125
bomb-proof by sand-bags piled up on the top of
the bridge. There are five large platforms on
the bridge. On the central one the Venetians
erected their main battery, and called it St An
thony, because begun on that saint's day.
A tradition had existed at Venice, from the
earliest times of its foundation, that it was im
pregnable ; and the Venetians certainly seemed
to place implicit faith in it, for they cared little
about the siege, except as a spectacle on a
grand scale, playfully observing that it did not
concern them ; that three saints, St Giuliano, St
Secondo, and St Anthony were having a fight
among themselves in the Lagoon. During the
siege of Malghera, the Venetians crowded the
bell-towers, and other high buildings of Venice, to
watch the operations, whilst at Mestre, Radetzky
and the Austrian generals stood on the cam
panile in the centre of the town, equally occupied.
The Austrian field-marshal, indeed, - had by his
side a painter to sketch instantaneously the
victorious entry of the Austrians into Venice
as soon as the event should occur; but days
went by, and the artist was never called upon
to display his skill. When the Austrians found

126 ROBA D' ITALIA.
they could not approach Venice, they began to
bombard it, but the actual damage done was
very trifling.
On the 12th of July, when the Venetians keep
the festival of Sta Maria della Salute, they saw
a score, or thereabouts, of balloons rise from an
Austrian ship lying off the Lido; each of these
balloons contained a shell, " e non so quali
altre diavolerie," says a Venetian writer, relating
the incident ; and the Austrians had, of course,
launched them in the hope that they would fall
on Venice. But, fortunately for the city, all
the balloons went in another direction, some
falling into the Lagoon, others on the Lido, and
a few upon Malghera and Mestre, then occupied
by the Austrians ; so that the Venetians looked
upon the attempt as a fine display of fireworks,
to which they were treated at their enemy's
expense. Venice was eventually compelled to surrender,
and once more submit to the Austrian dominion,
when the want of provisions and the ravages of
the cholera in the city rendered further resistance
impossible. We leave the bridge, pass the church of Sta

VENICE. 127
Chiara, where they preserve one of the nails with
which Christ was fastened to the cross, and a
ring, once belonging to St Louis of France, with
a genuine bit of the cross itself for a gem.
Passing under two bridges we reach the Camp
of Justice, the place where executions used to
take place, — I say used, for punishment of death
is virtually abolished in Italy. We presently
come to another campo, the Campo di Marte,
which reminds you of a kind of killing not yet,
and which certainly never will be, abolished, for
human folly and human wickedness will only
cease with mankind; nations will ever be ready
to rush into war, and, if unsuccessful, lay the
fault on their rulers, though they urged them
on to it. This Campo di Marte is an extensive
triangular piece of ground, corresponding in size
and shape with the Giardino Publico, forming the
other horn of crescent-shaped Venice, if we leave
the Giudecca out of sight.
By this time we have reached the Punta di
Sta Marta, forming the outermost south-western
point of Venice, and where there formerly stood
a church dedicated to that saint, as well as a
nunnery, founded by the Salamoni family; in

128 ROBA D' ITALIA.
recognition of which every abbess, on her election,
used to send to its head a silken rose. And this,
too, is the moment to think of roses, for my
lanterns are burnt out, and even the light in the
cabin begins to show faint, for Aurora prepares
with her rosy fingers to open the gates of Day
— I believe this is the orthodox style of describ
ing this sort of thing; but the gondolier puts
it much more briefly, and, I may say, poetically,
by exclaiming, "Ecco la mattina!" Fancy —
— as the Lady, to whom I have the honour
of inscribing these pages, said, when I men
tioned the incident to her — fancy a London
cabman calling out to his fare, " Behold the
morn!" To show my gondolier how much
I appreciate his remark, I open my remaining
bottle of wine, and regale him and his mate
with plenteous draughts, to be poured out or
down as libations to the welcome dawn. And
with it there comes a gentle breeze rippling the
water. We pass a ship, on board which they are
hoisting sail — the first signs of life we have seen
or heard since the watch-dog at the Arsenal
greeted us ; and now the first voices we hear
again at the beginning of the new day are those

VENICE. 129
of two irascible Dalmatian dogs, guarding a ship
laden with firewood, and lying in the Canale
della Giudecca. However, we go along this
canal only a little way, and then turn down
the canal to the right, called Punta di Biaggio,
between the end of the Giudecca and some low,
desolate-looking islets, scarcely more than sand
banks, for my object is to get outside the
Giudecca, so as to have an uninterrupted view
of sunrise.
The small canal derives its name from the church
of S. Biagio Catoldo, which stands at that point
of the Giudecca. The blessed Giuliana came
thither from Padua in the thirteenth century,
and founded a nunnery there. Both church
and nunnery are now turned to military uses.
In the church, the body of the saint used to
be shown ; and though she died in 1226, and
was buried in a cemetery, her body, when taken
up many years after, was found, they say, in
a state of perfect preservation.
We are in the broad Lagoon again ; the dawn
grows brighter; the birds in the garden grounds
of the long island of the Giudecca
" With merry carols greet the day," —
VOL. II. K

130 ROBA D' ITALIA.
and some equally early birds, in the shape of
men and women, are already cutting the grass
growing on the strip of land fringing the garden-
walls on the island. True, the increasing light
also reveals some ugly mud - banks, which
now, in consequence of the receding tide,
become visible. But I turn away from them to
look over the wide Lagoon, where a sail here
and there appears, or a small boat laden with
fruit and vegetables for Venice. Before us rises
up the graceful island of La Grazia, also called
Sta Maria della Cavana, from a large boat-house
erected on it, where boats and gondolas might
take refuge in boisterous weather. This structure
is now nearly all that remains of the buildings
formerly existing on the island, and which con
sisted in a church dedicated to Sta Maria delle
Grazie, a convent, and a tavern for pilgrims,
who used to flock thither at the beginning of
every month. Far away, between the islands of
S. Lazzaro and Lazzaretto Vecchio, lies a large
English steamer, which, two days before, had
left Venice for Alexandria, but, in consequence of
bad pilotage, ran aground there, and had to have
nearly all its cargo taken out to set it afloat again.

VENICE. 131
We pass on between the islands of La Grazia
and S. Clemente. This latter island has two
very striking buildings on it — a church and a
lunatic asylum. I had visited the church a few
days before. It was undergoing extensive repairs,
the walls and dome having cracked in several
places, in consequence of the subsidence of the
ground — a misfortune which occasionally happens
to Venetian buildings, all being raised on piles.
I remember two notable instances, the church of
Sta Maria della Salute and that of Sta Maria dei
Frari. A priest, who, as I entered the church
of S. Clemente, was apparently reading his
breviary, eyed me very closely, and thinking,
perhaps, he saw something soft in my appearance,
presently put away his book, came up to me,
and began talking about the repairs of the
church, the lowness of funds, the meanness and
heathenism of Government in granting three mil
lions of lire for the lunatic asylum next door and
nothing to the church, and hinting at my con
tributing to the expenses of the restoration. But,
like the old woman who could not be affected
by a sermon preached by a clergyman to whose
parish she did not belong, I saw neither rhyme
K 2

132 ROBA D' ITALIA.
nor reason in asking me to pay towards the
repairs of a church which I think would form
a very picturesque ruin. I therefore listened
very attentively to the priest's whine, and, when
he had done, wished him a good day. He went
back to his book. I looked round the church,
which is chiefly remarkable for the exact counter
part of the House of Loretto, which stands in the
centre of it, and then walked out, giving the
custode his usual fee. I have no doubt the priest,
when he saw I gave nothing for the church, —
and he watched me as closely as a cat does a
mouse, — gave me as rich a blessing as, and
richer, too, than, my gift to the restoration fund.
The simile of a cat and mouse I have just used,
because it came most readily, reminds me of a
curious fact. As in Rome almost every cab-driver
has a dog on the box beside him, so every custode,
sacristan, verger, or whatever you may call him
in Venice, has a cat. In nearly every church in
that city you will see a sleek tabby or black
pussy winking and blinking at you from a bench,
balustrade, or other convenient perch. Of course,
when dealing with such a sacred animal, a sort
of Egyptian cat, it would be almost blasphemy

VENICE. 133
to hint at any connexion with Old Nick, but
why is it there ? and what does it live on ? The
fare of church mice is proverbially poor, and the
mice being themselves scantily fed, they cannot
afford a rich repast to their devourers. After
meditating deeply and "muchly" on the subject,
I come to the conclusion that these cats are
kept in the churches to typify priestly adroitness :
throw them from any height, and as often as
you like, and they always fall on their feet ; or,
perhaps, to show that the church has as many
lives as a cat ; or, that while it has, like that
animal, a soft fur and pleasant purr, it has also
sharp claws and a fierce screech ; that, in fact,
its whole nature is cattish, false, cruel, and
bloodthirsty. But whilst I have been writing all this the
gondola has made way, slowly, it is true, for
we have plenty of time yet before us, and the
gondoliers now and then rest on their oars. The
sun has not yet risen, at least, not visibly, for,
as I see with deep regret, a bank of clouds has
ascended above the eastern horizon, and the
crowning glory of the excursion, the phantas
magoria of the transformation-scene, the resur-

134 ROBA D* ITALIA.
rection of the sun over the Venetian Lagoon, is
a spectacle I am to be denied. But it is getting
broad daylight, and, passing round the Isola
S. Giorgio Maggiore, I see again before me the
inimitable and unique Piazzetta, its background
formed by the clock-tower, its sides by the lofty
campanile and marvellous cathedral, its front by
the Doge's palace and palatial library — the whole
constituting a coup cVceil not to be matched on
the whole earth. It is a pity that just now the
nearest angle of the Ducal palace, and also that
of the cathedral, are concealed by high hoardings,
behind which repairs are being carried on.
And what a contrast on either side of the
Piazzetta ! On the right, looking at it from the
Lagoon, the gloomy prison with the fatal Bridge
of Sighs ; on the left, the bright, cheerful
Giardinetto, with its gay and elegant pavilion, an
exact counterpart in marble of the galleggiante,
which floated on boats down the Grand Canal,
when the Emperor of Austria, in 1857, came to
pay a visit to Venice! And whoso would realize
Byron's lines, describing how she is
"  as a fairy city ofthe heart,
Like water-columns rising from the sea,"

VENICE. 135
or Venus issuing out of the azure wave under
the rosy veil of Aurora ; and how truly he called
her "  a boast, a marvel, and a show,"
ought to see the Grand Canal in the clear,
transparent atmosphere of a summer's morning,
as I see it on this morning of the 10th of July,
1873, a day which I record in my memory, as
it is in the Roman calendar, as dedicated to Sta
Felicita. The perfect silence also, and absence
as yet of all moving life, is very impressive. I
seem to have arrived at an enchanted city : — •
"  From out the wave her structures rise,
As from the stroke of an enchanter's wand."
And now, having completed the circuit of the
whole city, within six hours I return to my hotel.
And thus ends my pernoctation on the Lagoon of
Venice ; but the pleasant recollection of the time
thus spent will be " a joy for ever."

SECTION VI.

VENICE.

CHAPTER III.
PALACE HUNTING.
Many Palaces for Sale at Venice — Am asked by a friend to Look out
one — I Advertise — Some of the Replies — Description of a
Palace — Italian Palaces — Venetian Floors — An Early Bird — ¦
The Palazzo Gritti — A Neglected Library — The Grittis and
their Palace — A Lofty Cockloft — A Rendezvous with a Lady —
I Visit another Palace — Venetian House-Agents — Forlorn
Creatures Perching outside Cafes — Pigeons on the Piazza
— State Visit to a Palace : Grand Processional Progress
— Interior Arrangement of Venetian Palaces — Duke of
Modena's Palace — Palazzo Manfrin — Palazzo Contarini —
Palazzo Rezzonico — Palazzo Pesaro — Palazzo Vendramin —
Buying Pictures — Painting of Madonna, presented to Sta Maria
Formosa on strange condition — Portrait of Sta Teresa — Rules
to be observed for taking Paintings out of Italy — Bill of
Lading — Curious Coincidence in Names of Captains of
Steamers.

138 ROBA D' ITALIA.

CHAPTER III.
PALACE HUNTING.
Among the many palaces of Venice, some are
kept in thorough repair by their owners, whether
they inhabit them or not ; many are in merely
substantial repair, that is to say, the foundations,
walls, roof, &c, are sound, whilst the internal
decorations are in a state of decay. Many other
palaces, again, are almost ruinous. I remember
one on the Canal S. Pantaleone, whose originally
magnificent marble front is now upheld by strong
pieces of timber. This building was sold a short
time ago for five thousand lire for the purpose
of being taken down, though the marble alone
would fetch five times that sum in England.
Well, many of these palaces are avowedly for
sale, — most can be bought if you make a bid
for them.
Now, some friends of mine were anxious to
purchase a Venetian palace, whether in repair
or ruinous mattered not, as long as it was very

VENICE. 139
large, had a noble frontage or elevation, a garden,
and a history. Its attractions would be enhanced
if it were haunted, or had been the scene of a
few murders, assassinations, poisonings, con
spiracies, elopements, or other romantic deeds
of darkness. My friends had asked me, during
my stay in Venice, to look out for them such an
eligible residence. I therefore set out palace-
hunting, and first visited all the palaces that had
boards affixed to them with the legend "For
sale." But as their number was small, and as
none of them was sufficiently extensive, — and yet
I knew that on the Grand Canal, the locality to
which my friends gave the preference, there were
a great many uninhabited palaces, some of them
of great size and magnificent architecture, — I
caused advertisements to be inserted in several
Venetian newspapers, stating the fact that a
gentleman was desirous of acquiring an ancient
Venetian palace. I also mentioned a price it
was not to exceed ; in doing which I, or rather
my friends, had no intention to restrict them
selves to such an outlay ; the amount was merely
named to prevent people from asking outrageous
sums, which the Italians, like some persons nearer

140 ROBA D> ITALIA.
home, are very apt to do, when they think you
are anxious to buy. This offended some patriotic
Venetians, and in answer to my advertisement
I received, among other replies, the following
letter : —
"Most esteemed Sir, — Having read in the
journal II Rinnovamento that you desire to
purchase in this city a palace, large, in good
condition, and with a larrrrrrrge (grrrrrrrande)
garden, for the sum of twenty-seven thousand
lire, I am sure you must have been misinformed,
or suppose Venice to be some insignificant, out-
of-the-way village. If, however, you really desire
to make such a purchase, I advise you to pay a
visit to the Island of S. Seviglio, where you
will find a palace and garden according to your
wants." The Island of S. Seviglio, commonly called S.
Servolo, is an island in the Lagoon, and the chief
building on it is a lunatic asylum. Of course
my friends and I had a good laugh at the
writer, who had thus given vent to his offended
patriotism. Another letter was to this effect : —
"Most excellent Sir, — In answer to an ad-

VENICE. 141
vertisement, the humbly undersigned has the
honour to offer to your Lordship a noble palace
of three floors, with a marble frontage, defying
centuries ! And, adjoining it, another noble resi
dence in three floors, with garden, orchard, and
grove, composed of fine trees, grotto, summer-
house) ^aviary, hot-house, gardener's lodge, colossal
marble statues of great price, and valuable
paintings in the various rooms of the palace ! ! !
In conclusion, this palace offers all the con
veniences a family of distinction may desire, as
it is pleasant, proper, princely ! Such as was
never seen ! nor can be described ! And this
may be verified according to your wish ! The
humble writer will always be at your disposal !
and signs himself, with profound respect,
" Giovanni Brunetta."
The grandiloquent style in which the letter
was couched, the presence of so many marks of
exclamation, and the absence of the writer's
address, induced me to look upon this communi
cation as a hoax, especially as his name, Brunetta,
though rather pretty, had a savour of being
" done brown" about it.

142 ROBA D' ITALIA.
A third letter — and there could be no doubt
in what spirit that was written — ran thus : —
' ' Sir, — I have read your advertisement. I
have the large palace, not in a good, but in the
most perfect condition, with a garden which the
most noble Count Papadopoli might envy " [the
Papadopoli garden is the finest and largest in
Venice]. " There is also a gondola always ready,
together with the gondoliers belonging thereto.
Also a young lady, with many other pretty
things too numerous to mention. All this you
may have without spending the enormous sum
of twenty-seven thousand lire" [another outburst
of patriotic indignation ! What followed is un
translatable]. "If you will do this, I, who am
a gentleman, but extravagant, will give you
the large palace, the large garden, and all you
desire." The writer of the above evidently wanted an
answer, for he appended to his letter a direction
by means of which I might communicate with him,
which, however, I did not deem fit to do, — the
young lady was more than I had bargained
for. Other letters were more rational and meant

VENICE. 143
business, containing advantageous offers — that
is to say, they would have been advantageous
to the persons that made them if I had ac
cepted them. The art of puffing houses is as
well known in Italy as it is to London house-
agents. Thus, one man sent to me the following
details : —
" For sale, in this city, an ancient palace Lore
dano, of the thirteenth century, recently restored,
with vast suites of rooms, large offices, grand
staircase, courtyard with well of excellent Water,
garden, and cavana [the gondola-house]. Price
very moderate, because the proprietor wishes to
leave Venice."
Of course I went to see the palace thus grandly
described, and had much difficulty in finding it.
On the land-side it looked on a very narrow lane,
into which the sun never penetrated ; on the water
side it was separated from a small, dirty canal by
a scrubby bit of ground — this was the garden,
flanked by tumble-down sheds — these were offices.
The cracked and sunken landing-stairs seemed to
be the play-ground of a whole colony of the ugly,
dirty-brown crabs you may see crawling along the
walls, just out of the water. On the farther side

144 ROBA D' ITALIA.
of the canal the eye dwelt on some dilapidated
stables and a slaughter-house. The vast suites of
rooms consisted of about half-a-dozen parlours —
such as may be found in suburban cottages, the
largest, the grand drawing-room, being scarcely
twenty feet long ; all the rooms looking on the
lane were as dark as back-offices in the City of
London. The grand staircase, or escalier d'honneur,
I found to be just wide enough to admit a lady
if she wore strictly classical costume. It was of
marble, it is true ; but then it was in a tiled
entrance-hall, only partly covered in, so that the
landing was under the open sky. The cavana
was about the size of a decent dog-kennel. The
price asked for this eligible residence was three
thousand Napoleons, which it was stipulated should
be paid in gold. Of course I declined becoming
the fortunate possessor of this ancient residence
of the Loredani, which in its desolation seemed
to mourn yet for the last illustrious member of
that illustrious family, who by his own desire was
buried without pomp, bare-footed, and with a stone
for his pillow.
And here let me say a few words about Italian
palaces.

VENICE. 145
According to English custom, the name of palace
is given to a royal residence, or a house emi
nently large and splendid; but in Italy the term
"palazzo" is bestowed as liberally on almost any
building that is somewhat larger than an ordinary
house, as English builders call any cottage that
has a balconet for one or two flower-pots a villa.
A handsome frontage, and sometimes merely a pair
of columns or decorative window, suffice in Italy
to entitle a common house to the appellation of
" palace." The Italians are fond of the super
lative degree ; everybody above a mere shopkeeper
is " compitissimo'1'1 or " pregiatissimo " whilst the
tourist who does not calculate every franc may
rely on being called " excellenza." Hence, the
expression " piano nobile," however shabby it
may be. What in an English house would be
called a parlour, in Italy is a " saZa," and so with
every other part of the house. In many cases it
is the outside alone which has anything palatial
about it, whilst the inside is mean, the rooms being
small, and all those looking upon the narrow lanes
dark, as a matter of course.
Still it must not be supposed that there are
no real palaces in Italy. On the contrary, no
VOL. n. L

146 ROBA D' ITALIA.
country can show so many, or such magnificent
ones. As to Venetian palaces in particular, they
have a character of their own, whose effect is
well expressed in Sannazaro's distich, which the
Republic rewarded with two hundred ducats : —
" Si Tiberim pelago confers, urbem aspice utramque ;
Illam homines dices, hane posuisse deos."
Its palaces, indeed, look like the creations of a
poet's fancy; and, though their architecture be
light and airy, they have for centuries withstood
the influences of the elements ; for most of
these edifices, founded on piles, are constructed
of a white stone passing under the name of Istrian
marble, from the locality whence it is derived,
which in heat and cold lasts much longer than
real marble. A beautiful red stone, brought from
Verona and Cattaro, was once much used for
internal decorations. The floors usually seen in
Venetian houses and palaces are made of terrazzo,
a compound of broken brick, marble, and cement,
well mixed, laid on moist, rolled, and finally
polished. The ceilings, after the name of the
architect who introduced them, are called Sansovino,
and are formed of neatly-squared beams laid
very closely together, and openly shown, without

VENICE. 147
any plaster-ceiling underneath them. They are
usually painted or stained a dark brown.
But it is time that I should return to my
search after a palace such as my friends desired
me to find.
One morning, as I was dressing, some one
knocked at my door, and, on opening it, I found
a little man standing outside, who inquired, in
eager haste, whether I had already found a palace
such as I wanted. I politely informed him that
I was not yet quite suited; which assurance on
my part seemed to take an immense load off
his mind ; and when I asked him to walk in
and tell me to what circumstance I owed the
honour of his visit, he obeyed quite joyfully. I
offered him a chair, but taking possession of it
was not so easy a matter for my visitor as you
might imagine ; for I must tell you that he
was a little man, a very little man, who, at a
pinch, might have made a living by exhibiting
himself in a caravan as a dwarf. So his getting
into a chair was a sort of gymnastic feat, which
required some calculation on his part as to the
spring he must take to attain that elevation.
And before even attempting that perilous leap
L 2

148 ROBA D' ITALIA.
he had first to get rid of his hat. It was a small
straw hat, with a very narrow brim, and, when
in use, as I had occasion to observe when I met
the little man afterwards in the street, rested
on the top of a head as round as a Dutch cheese,
and quite as bare, a few bristles here and there
being all its owner could boast of in the way of
chevelure. Well, he went about with this hat,
seeking a resting-place for it, as a hen goes
about looking for a convenient spot to lay an
egg, and finally put it on the floor. A kitten
that was playing about the room immediately
jumped into, and curled itself up in it.
A common mind would probably have been
enraged at this feline pleasantry ; but the little
man evidently had a big soul, for, with a sort
of William-the-Conqueror air, he exclaimed, —
"This is a favourable omen; as your kitten takes
up its domicile in my hat, so you will take up
yours in the palace I come to offer you." But
I was equal to the occasion. " Not so," I replied.
" The kitten is only examining the hat, and will
speedily leave it. Hence the augury is not
favourable to my making a permanent stay in
your palace."

VENICE. 149
This was a staggerer; but little men generally
are bold, and so Signor Turca — for that was his
name — proved a regular Turk by somehow or
other climbing into a chair, whence he imme
diately began to hold forth, as an auctioneer from
his rostrum, on the glories of the palazzo he
wished me to inspect, and, of course, buy. It
was most extensive, of noble appearance, situ
ated on the Grand Canal, and only required an
outlay of a few thousand francs to be put into
thorough repair. It was the Palazzo Gritti,
between the Canal Canaregio and the Church
S. Marcuola.
I promised my visitor that I would go and
look at it. He trundled off the chair, bundled
the kitten out of his hat, which, with a twirl
and a flourish, he placed on the top of his head,
where it perched as ladies' hats do on the summit
of chignons half-a-yard high, and bowed himself
out, evidently satisfied that he was the early
bird that was to pick up the worm in the
shape of a handsome commission for selling a
palace. I went to see it soon after. Its facade, as all
passengers on the Grand Canal can see, offers

150 ROBA D' ITALIA.
nothing striking; but its interior is vast and im
posing even in its decay, which will soon be
ruin; for the wear and tear of the elements, and
the sinking of the foundations — no uncommon thing
in Venice — have worn away many an ornament,
and caused the walls to give, and large marble
blocks to split. The halls and rooms in the
building, enclosing a spacious courtyard, are
large and numerous, but to make it habitable
would require the pulling down and re-building
of nearly the whole. An old woman, who is
left in charge, showed me over the palace.
After passing through a number of empty rooms
or halls, we came to a suite of about six rooms,
whose walls were hid by large presses, crammed
full of books, all for sale. There were a great many
law-books, much of that worthless rubbish, called
theology and patristic medical books, and other
waste-paper, but also many topographical and his
torical works of great interest and value. The price
asked for the whole lot was 6,000 francs ; and the
notary who was entrusted with the sale of them,
told me that he was actually then in treaty with a
probable purchaser; but that, if the negotiation
failed, he would let me know. As I never heard

VENICE. 151
any more about them, I suppose the books were
sold. Ascending to the third floor of the palace,
I found it not quite so desolate as its lower
portions, for it was inhabited by my guide and
two other old women, who seemed to live by
the rearing of poultry, the halls and corridors,
with painted or Sansovino ceilings, being now the
feeding-grounds of a large colony of fowls, living
in perfect harmony with four cats of various
colours, which no doubt found plenty of mice
in the solitary chambers.
Here was a place for ghosts and goblins !
desolate, dark rooms and passages, three witches,
several cocks, and four cats — both these animals
being those whose forms the arch fiend is in
the habit of assuming. These old women must.
have some spectral story to tell, if they would
only speak. I must question them. Was there
no Gritti who had come to a violent end, or
done something in the Newgate line to compel
him to haunt these deserted chambers ? There
was Lorenzo Gritti, who was killed during an
insurrection in Candia ; his ghost surely ought
to have taken up its abode here. There was
Sebastiano Gritti, who, in order to worry the

152 ROBA d' ITALIA.
King of Naples, was sent by the noble and just
Republic of Venice' to jstir up the Sultan to
claim Calabria, in the. Kingdom of Naples, as
forming politically a part of Greece — ought he
not for such turpitude to be condemned to roam,
a cursed spirit, through the solitudes of his
palace? Whatever he ought, he does not do so
now, for the old women had never seen as much
as the shadow of a ghost ; and though I stimulated
their inventive faculties by the presentation of
a valuable State document, payable to bearer,
their imagination was at fault, and they could
not even tell me a true ghost-story, which means
one where it turns out there was no ghost at
all. I left the place in disgust; and who would
not have done the same ? Given an old Venetian
palace, vast, gloomy, empty, and dilapidated; in
habited only by three old Italian women, — and
who has travelled in Italy knows that there old
women are fearfully and frightfully made, regular
pantomime witches, — attended by cocks and cats,
and yet no ghost dragging after him clanking
chains, no spectre with saucer eyes, no goblin
with horns, hoof, and tail ! When my little man
called on me again to know the result of my

VENICE. 153
visit to the Gritti Palace, I told him he might
go to — live there himself.
Well, I had almost given up the idea of meet
ing with the sort of thing my friends required,
when one Sunday morning, just as I was going
to breakfast, I was told that a lady wished to
see me in the Reading-Room of the hotel. I
there found an English — or rather Scotch — lady,
of very pleasing exterior and manners, who in
formed me that, having seen my advertisement,
she came on behalf of a lady friend of hers,
though without that lady's knowledge, to ask
me to go and look at her friend's palace, which
was for sale, and might perchance suit me. She
further offered to introduce me to the proprietress
of the palace — a lady bearing an historical, noble
title, dating from the earliest days of the Re
public — if I would meet her at the palace on
her return from church. Of course, I agreed to
the proposal, for it is always pleasant to keep
a rendezvous with a pretty woman, even if it be
only to help her to choose a poodle or to escort her
to a missionary meeting. So, towards one o'clock,
when respectable people are supposed to come out
of church, I told my gondolier to row me gently up

154 ROBA D' ITALIA.
the Grand Canal towards the Palazzo Foscari. On
arriving in its neighbourhood, I had the pleasure
of observing another gondola with the lady in
it. I don't know what the gondolier thought of
it when I told him. to row alongside, but I de
tected a smirk on his face, and would fain have
pitched him into the water for his impertinence.
Still, I could not deny that he, not knowing the
real state of the case, had reason to assume that
the lady and I had arranged a meeting of a
tender kind. A gentleman going in a gondola
to meet a lady in a gondola reminds one so much
of the supposition —
" If a body meet a body,
Coming through the rye,"
that similar results may be anticipated in either
case. And the thing was, indeed, quite romantic:
a fine day, balmy air, a glorious sky above, trans
lucent water below, palaces around, a gondola,
with a gaily-coloured awning and curtains to
match half-drawn, and a lady in light muslin
seated within and waiting for me, and about
conducting me to the palace of not exactly a
princess, but something very near one. Here
was matter enough for a whole poem in the

VENICE. 155
style of Ariosto. This was something like, much
better than meeting three old witches, dwelling
in a haunted, tumble-down ruin, and surrounded
by uncanny beasts ! Now I was able to exclaim
with the Student in ' Faust,' —
" There's sense in that — one seeth there
At any rate the how and where ; "
and I began to feel quite a new interest in
palace-hunting. Certes, the winsome leddy in the
gondola and myself hardly indulged in as much
as a Platonic flirtation, but the potentiality for it
was there ; and philosophers are easily satisfied,
and poetic souls supply what reality leaves de
ficient. The lady and I gave each other a
peculiar look, which showed that each knew the
idea passing through the other's mind. So we
were rowed up to the palace, and found her
Ladyship at home. I was introduced to her, dis
covered her to be a most charming woman, and
in her company went over her residence, one
of the best-known palaces in Venice, which has
been the temporary residence of kings and
emperors. I suppress its name for self-evident
reasons; and as in some respects it would not
have fulfilled the conditions which were laid

156 ROBA D' ITALIA.
down for my guidance in the selection of a
palace, my visit to the one here in question
procured me nothing but an agreeable inter
view and pleasant recollections, which, however,
is a great deal in this life, which, after all, is
but a dull tragedy.
My readers will remember that in Naples
house-agents sit under a board at the corners of
streets and lanes. In Venice, their mode of
carrying on business is not quite so primitive,
but still it is not exactly what in England would
now be considered legitimate. They invite their
clients to meet them at cafes, as formerly
bargains were concluded in England at taverns,
even between authors and publishers, and com
mercial agents of a fishy sort now carry on their
business in public-house parlours. I received
several invitations from agents to meet them at
such places. But this is a proceeding to which
I have great objections. Firstly, I object to
transact my business at a beer and coffee stained
table. Secondly, I object to transact it in public,
au vu et au su de tout le monde, and to submit
to the prying curiosity of the people seated
around, and the importunities of the agent's

VENICE. 157
friends and acquaintances, to all of whom he
would deem it necessary to introduce me, and
them to me, which would lead to endless scrapings
and bowings and hat-liftings, whilst I didn't
care a rap for his acquaintances, whom, with
their vile cigarettes and frequent expectorations,
I look upon as abominable nuisances. And,
lastly, I think the cafes themselves somewhat of
a nuisance. You cannot walk at your ease
beneath the arcades of the Piazza or Piazzetta
on account of them. The proprietors are allowed
to stick their tables right on the pavement belong
ing to the public ; and the loafers who moon
about all day outside the caffe, sitting for hours
over a cup of coffee or a glass of eau sucree,
push their chairs in everybody's way; whilst
the waiters, hovering about like greedy flies, or
pushing past you with trays laden with lemonade
and other exhilarating beverages, still further
obstruct locomotion.
Have the miserable idiots whom one sees
helplessly lounging outside the Cafe* Florian or
Dei Quadri no one to take care of them, no
homes to go to? Do the cups of bitter coffee or
vapid granita which they imbibe, or the preserved

158 ROBA D' ITALIA.
cherries or plums, sold on sticks, like cats'-meat,
to the dreary, dismal cry of caramel, which
they devour during the long hours they spend
in idiotic listlessness outside the cafds, — do these
not make them sick ? I am sure I grew sick of
looking at these forlorn creatures, and at last
preferred crossing the Piazza itself to pushing
my way past them under the arcade. Besides,
on the Piazza there were the pigeons to look at,
and they, at least, were amusing. I have spent
many a half-lira in buying peas of the boys
offering them for sale, which in a shop I might
have had for ten centesimi, that I might have
two or three pigeons resting on my hand and
eating out of it. These birds are fed at the
public expense, or, rather, the outlay is defrayed
from the bequest of a noble lady, as the bears
in the moat at Berne are maintained from a
similar legacy. The feeding-time is two o'clock,
and though " Cats don't know when it 's half-past eight,"
the pigeons know when it is two, and assemble
at that hour at the north end of the Piazza,
though the customary bell be not rung, — as some
times, to test their knowledge of how the time

VENICE. 159
is going on, it has been omitted, — or all the
clocks of the town go wrong.
But I have been wandering far from my
subject, palace-hunting, and the agents that were
to assist me. Well, to such agents as asked me
to meet them at cafds I simply wrote to send me
particulars of any palace they were commissioned
to sell, and I would go and look at it by myself,
and let them know the result; for, again, I had
found that allowing an agent to accompany me
was attended by a great deal of bother and
fuss, which rather impeded than promoted my
object. Before I had gained that experience,
and had on one occasion invited the agent to
go with me, he had brought with him a seedy
individual, whom he called his clerk. On
arriving at the palace I was to inspect, and
which was situated near Sta Maria del Carmine,
and inhabited by a whole colony of sculptors
in wood, who had all been apprized of my
coming visit, I looked at a set of rooms on the
piano nobile, or first floor, whicli formed the
residence of sculptor number one. The agent
happened to know him personally, and entered
into a lively discussion with him on a subject

160 ROBA D' ITALIA.
which had no connexion whatever with my busi
ness. Of this I would have been glad, in spite of
the want of attention displayed towards me, if
I had been left at liberty to examine the rooms
at my leisure. But the clerk, and the sculptor's
wife and children — a couple of hobbledehoys, to
whom I had been presented on first entering
their apartment — were at my heels, and bothered
me with their explanations. After a while, I
gave the agent a hint that I was ready to inspect
other portions of the building, when he broke
off his argument, and expected me to admire his
friend's, the sculptor's, work. But as I had not
come to look at wooden saints and angels, of
whom I had seen enough in Roman and Neapolitan
churches, I declined the offer. We therefore went
into the grand hall, which in all Venetian palaces
forms the central portion of the building, to see
the suite of rooms on the opposite side. But, oh
horror ! not only did the agent and his clerk
accompany me, but sculptor number one, his
slatternly wife, and his staring and pushing
whelps. Sculptor number two was applied to to
allow us to enter his appartement, which he did

VENICE. 161
politely enough. Of course his family, whom we
necessarily intruded upon, — I caught sight of a
young lady in her petticoats, and with her back-
hair down, making her escape into what probably
was her bed-room, — revenged themselves by pre
sently all making their appearance; and I was
expected to do the polite to a frowsy old woman
and three daughters, whose toilets had evidently
been made in a hurry.
The sculptor thought it incumbent on him to
point out to me the architectural and decorative
features of his habitation, the agent did the same ;
materfamilias talked to me about the good water
down in the well; and the daughters proudly
showed me their flower-beds in the bit of garden
one could see from the back balcony. I was
expected to pay attention to everybody, answer
every remark addressed to me, and satisfy the
curiosity of the whole crowd as to my birth,
parentage, objects in life, and views on every
possible topic, till I grew so bewildered that I
scarcely knew oil donner de la tSte. The stupidity
of the people, in drawing my attention to things
which I could have seen much better had I
been left alone, and in explaining the uses and
VOL. II. M

162 ROBA D' ITALIA.
purposes of various architectural contrivances
which spoke for themselves, was as trying as the
idiotic pertinacity with which a London lodging-
house keeper will ask you to come and look at
a chest of drawers which stares you full in the
face, and, pulling out the drawers, will inform you
that they are very handy to put your linen and
other things in.
But worse martyrdom was in store for me.
When I proposed to the agent that we should
make a move and go upstairs, I hoped by that
desperate measure, like the fox who was held
fast by his tail, to get rid of that appendage.
But I was not so fortunate. The agent and his
clerk, and the two families, — the, whole now
forming quite a procession, — ranged themselves in
marching order, and accompanied me upstairs.
There fresh introductions took place, and if I had
been at all conceited, I might have compared my
inspection to a royal progress. My tormentors
again pointed out to me architectural and deco
rative details, which I could have examined more
at my ease without the gabble of my self-con
stituted ciceroni, who, like all their kind, only
produce in your mind hazy and indistinct notions

VENICE. 163
of what you see. Again the Sansovino ceilings,
the marble jambs of doors, the great height of
the rooms, &c, were pointed out to me.
I expressed myself to the effect that I had seen
enough, and proposed descending, to get rid of
my train. But I was not to be let off so cheaply.
I had not yet seen the mezzanino, — and down
came the whole troop to accompany me in my
explorations. This mezzanine floor, as is often
the case in Venetian palaces, was the most at
tractive part of the building ; for, though the
ceilings as a rule are low, yet the rooms have a
snug and cozy air, a look of comfort and
homeliness. When a palace in Venice is in
habited by one family only, this floor, which is
immediately under the piano nobile, or first floor,
forms their winter quarters, whilst the floor
above, much more lofty and airy, is occupied
during the summer.
This palace, being inhabited by a number of
families, the mezzanine floor was the permanent
residence of one of them. It contained some
twenty - six rooms, with beautifully painted
ceilings, tapestried walls, and floors inlaid with
handsome marble mosaics, — not the plain pattern
m 2

164 ROBA D' ITALIA.
of small bits of differently, and generally sombre-
coloured, marbles, usually seen in Venetian houses
and palaces. There was also a chapel, neatly
fitted up, and with the customary lamps burning
before the shrine of the Virgin. In the best bed
room the bed stood in a kind of alcove, with a
floor slightly elevated above that of the room
itself. Whoever wishes to obtain an idea of a Venetian
family interior, ought not only to see the state
apartments, but also the entresol ; and in all the
palaces I have visited, this floor was always
the most characteristic, and therefore the most
interesting. On this particular occasion, however, I fear I
was scarcely welcome, since I came with about
twenty people in my train, — in fact, the whole
population of the upper portions of the palace,
who, having never before seen this lower region,
took the opportunity of prying into everything;
so that I felt thoroughly ashamed of the incon
venience and annoyance I unintentionally caused
to the family occupying this suite of rooms, and
hastened as much as I could to beat a retreat
especially as by this time I had become con-

VENICE. 165
vinced that the palace, whatever this particular
floor might be, did not, in its upper portions,
offer the accommodation my friends required. So
down we all went — my followers were evidently
determined to see the last of me — into the great
central entrance hall, where the pavilion of the
gondola, the feize, and its state lanterns are kept ;
and on either side of which are store-rooms,
and the living - rooms of the concierge and
gondoliers. Here the final trial, the leave-taking, had to
be gone through. Everybody wanted to know
what I thought of the palace, and whether it
would suit, to which I cautiously replied that it
was impossible for me to answer that question
off-hand, that it required consideration, and that
if I found nothing more suitable, I would pro
bably pay them another visit: at which prospect
they all expressed great satisfaction — why, I
cannot tell; perhaps because they thought it
was the polite thing to do — and I was allowed
to take my departure, not without, however,
having a number of hands, some of them not
particularly clean, held out to me, whicli I had
to shake, while making bows innumerable to

166 ROBA D' ITALIA.
everybody around. You may say that this proves
the Italians to be a very warm-hearted and genial
race ; but do you think I should have met with
all this attention and politeness if it had not
been supposed that I was some rich " milord,"
who was about to give a fabulous sum for an
old, half-ruined palace? Eventually I made safe
my retreat into the gondola, and, as the gondoliers
pushed off, swore a mental vow never to indulge
again in the luxury of a royal progress and
numerous suite.
The next palace I went to see — alone this time
¦ — was one of the Gradenigo family, situated near
the embouchure of a small canal into the Grand
Canal. It is a large and magnificent building,
and has been uninhabited many years. It is the
joint property of four brothers, who all live in
different towns of Italy. My reception there was
of a much more homely character than the one
described above. It was very homely indeed ;
for my many pulls at a bell for admission were
at last answered by a woman carrying two infants,
— twins, as she obligingly informed me, — who
were just then taking their natural refreshment,
the founts whence they drew it being fully, and,

VENICE. 167
as it seemed to me, somewhat proudly displayed.
To my inquiry whether I could see the palace,
she replied that she had strict orders to show
it to no one, and, therefore, could not admit me.
But she gave me the address of the homme
d'affaires of the proprietors, whom I went to
see, merely to obtain the same information. And
when I hinted to him that I wished to inspect
it with a view to purchase, if found suitable, he
declared that the brothers objected to parting
with it, though they would never live in it. I
was sorry for it; the palace is one of the finest
in Venice.
The next handsome palace I went to see was
that of Savornian, on the Fondamenta di S. Giobbe.
It is uninhabited, but was formerly the residence
of the Duke of Modena, who left it when Venice
became Italian. It is vast, has a Gothic front,
saloons rich in stuccoes, gilding, frescoes, bas-
reliefs, and ancient furniture. Its .garden is one
of the largest in Venice, well laid out, and stocked
with choice plants and noble trees. The price
asked for it was two hundred thousand lire (not
quite eight thousand pounds), a very moderate
sum ; but the fact of its having a fondamenta in

168 ROBA D' ITALIA.
front of it, and thus not being immediately
situated on the canal, was a fatal objection.
As in close neighbourhood to the above stands
the Palazzo Manfrin, once famous for its collec
tion of paintings, I may here say a word about
it. The most valuable paintings were sold and
dispersed long ago ; but it still contains a large
number of pictures of varied merit, which are
all for sale, though the prices asked for them
are rather high. There is also a large collection
of old books and engravings displayed in one
of the rooms, and awaiting purchasers. I bought
a considerable number of both books and en
gravings, generally for about half the sum asked
for them. In Venice, as in Rome, you must
bargain. It is expected that you will do so,
and if you do not, why the worse for you !
The palace, however, is worth seeing for its
own sake, as it is really handsome, and kept in
good condition, being inhabited by the proprietor
himself. It contains a noble ball-room, in which
a stamp of the foot produces a curious echo.
On the left-hand side of the Grand Canal,
coming from the Piazzetta, and shortly after
passing under the iron bridge opposite S. Vitale,

VENICE. 169
you may see the Palazzo Contarini, now called
Palazzo degli Ambasciatori, and which you may
recognize by the two statues in niches on a line
with the first-floor windows. The Contarini family
was one of the most illustrious patrician families
of Venice. Eight Contarini occupied the ducal
throne. There are five palaces of that name on
the Grand Canal alone, and two more in other
parts of the city. The one opposite the Palazzo
Balbi, on the Grand Canal, is the handsomest as
to architecture. The one now called Degli Am
basciatori, and which I went _ to see, is small in
comparison with other palaces. The staircase is
miserably dark and narrow, and the garden is
now a timber-yard. The price asked for it was
150,000 lire. Very dear, I thought, when at the
same price you might have the magnificent
Palazzo Rezzonico, a little farther up on the
same side of the canal.
This is a truly regal edifice, a sumptuous pile,
only surpassed in the richness of its architectural
details by the Palazzo Pesaro. It is not a pecu
liarly Venetian palace, such as the Guistiniani
or Foscari close by; but its appearance is so
grand and imposing, that it throws those two

170 ROBA D5 ITALIA.
latter almost in the shade. It dates from the
seventeenth century, at which time the Rezzonico
family had made so much money by commerce,
that they could not only erect this palace, but
also spend one hundred thousand ducats to
purchase the rank of Venetian nobles, and get
their names inscribed in the Golden Book. Charles
Rezzonico assumed the Papal crown, under the
name of Clement XIII., in 1758.
The interior of the palace is as magnificent as
the outside. A grand staircase leads to vast halls
with painted ceilings, mosaic floors, and marble-
pillared doors ; but the whole is desolate and going
to ruin. Both here, and in the still more splendid
Palazzo Pesaro, higher up on the Grand Canal,
much damage was done to the upper floors by the
quartering of Austrian soldiers. In the. Palazzo
Rezzonico, which is not inhabited at all, the dif
ference between the first and second floors is not
so striking as it is in the last-named palace, whose
mezzanine and first floors are inhabited and sump
tuously furnished, — there are, as far as I can
remember, some thirty rooms, some of them of
vast size, on each floor, — whilst the second floor is
quite bare and almost ruinous. In its great central

VENICE. 171
hall on the first floor, or piano nobile, is a collec
tion of paintings, some ancient and original, others
modern and copies : these latter are for sale. I
bought some of them, but of this more hereafter.
The palace also dates from the seventeenth cen
tury ; it took thirty-one years to build, and cost
half- a- million of ducats. The Pesaro family is
extinct; the palace now belongs to a lady, whose
brother, who was joint proprietor with her, and
whose portrait hangs in one of the rooms of the
piano nobile, was killed a few years ago by a
fall from his horse, for which reason the lady is
disposed to sell the palace for a sum equivalent
to about forty thousand pounds sterling.
The only private Venetian palace that surpasses
it in size and richness of internal decoration,
though inferior to it in external architectural
grandeur, is the Palazzo Vendramin-Calergi, on the
right-hand side of the Grand Canal going towards
the railway station, and which belongs to the
Count de Chambord. It has suites of rooms which
are royal, where paintings, precious marbles, and
every othef means of decorative art, are lavished
in boundless profusion. It has also a large garden
attached to it, facing the Grand Canal. It is for

172 ROBA D' ITALIA.
sale, and the price asked for it is less than that
asked for the Palazzo Pesaro.
After having seen the Palazzo Vendramin, I felt
no inclination to look at others, for though, as to
external grandeur and richness of decoration, it
cannot vie with the Palazzi Pesaro and Rezzonico,
yet in size and internal accommodation and splen
dour it surpasses them both. If I could choose a
palace to live in at Venice, this would be the one
I should select, and live happy ever after.
Besides palace-hunting I did a little in picture-
hunting; not, indeed, looking after originals, as
they are called, and which, in most cases, are clever
copies, — and if those who pretend to be connoisseurs
are taken in by them, it is a proof that the copies
are as good as the originals, — but chiefly after
modern paintings. The search was not made on
my own account, but to oblige a friend who did me
the honour to consult my opinion ; and as he spoke
scarcely any Italian, he also left the commercial
part of the transaction to me.
I have mentioned above that in the Palazzo
Pesaro there is a picture-gallery; some of the
originals are for sale, but there are also copies by
a painter living on the ground-floor of the palace ;

VENICE. 173
his name is Colle Leone — he is a very clever man ;
and an amateur wishing for a copy of any painting
cannot do better than give him the commission.
I speak from experience ; for not only did I
purchase of him two large paintings, exposed for
sale in the gallery, — the one representing a view
of the Piazzetta, and the other a chimney-sweep, —
but also had a painting in a church copied by him,
which was only distinguishable from the original
by its greater freshness.
In the church of Sta Maria Formosa, where
there is a beautiful painting of Sta Barbara, — who,
if she resembled her portrait here, was certainly
quite wrong in adopting the business of a saint,
as she looks a woman made to love and be
loved, — there is also a painting of a totally
different character, a Madonna and Child. It
was painted not many years ago by order of
a gentleman, who presented it to the church on
condition that it should never be shown to any
heretic. It was, therefore, hung up in the
sacristy, and covered with a curtain. But on
the death of the donor, which took place a
short time ago, the restriction was withdrawn,
and now any one may go and look at the

174 ROBA D' ITALIA.
painting. The Madonna, who is generally re
presented as a madre dolorosa, here appears as
a madre giojosa; her youthful, almost girlish
face, is beaming with a smile, full of sweet
happiness, and the Infant has none of that
repulsiveness usually inherent in babyhood. A
lady, having seen this painting, took a great
fancy to it, and asked me if I could get it
copied for her. I thought of Signor Leone, and
he agreed to do it for a sum which I considered
very reasonable. And exceedingly well he did
it. As the original, of course, could not be
removed, he had to do his work in the sacristy
itself, where, consequently, many persons had an
opportunity of seeing it, and the verdict, as to
the minute fidelity of the copy to the original,
was unanimous.
As a pendant to the above, the same lady had
a copy executed of a (fancy) portrait of Sta
Teresa, which had been painted by the daughter
of that distinguished painter, Felice Schiavoni, the
owner of the Palazzo Guistiniani, and whose father
also had been a distinguished artist. This Teresa
was a kind of strong-minded female, who, when
she was twelve years old, set off, carrying her little

VENICE. 175
brother with her, to seek a martyr's death among
the Moors in Africa. Luckily their uncle met them
on their fool's errand, and took them home again _
When grown up, Teresa set about founding nun
neries, and monkeries too. She interested herself
specially in Barefooted Friars, Scalzi, who say she
was the foundress of the order, which would
certainly prove that she meddled with what was
not her business. However, as the friars hold
her in high estimation, the lady who had painted
her portrait presented it to the church Degli
Scalzi, adjoining the railway station, one of the
most gorgeous at Venice, whose front is all of
white Carrara marble. In order to make the
copy, which was painted by her own hand, she
obtained leave to take the original home; the
result was a copy, which, if possible, was superior
to the model. The name of Schiavoni is too
well known to need my recommendation ; in
mentioning it here, it is merely to pay a tribute
to merit, and give a hint to such of my readers
as may be in search of an artist possessing skill
and a conscience.
I also made numerous purchases at the Accademia
di Belle Arti, on the Grand Canal, close to the

176 ROBA D' ITALIA.
iron bridge, and the Esposizione Permanente, in
the Palazzo Mocenigo, near the church S. Bene
detto. To such persons as also wish to become
possessors of any of the paintings exposed for
sale at either gallery, I would advise not to give
the price asked, but to bargain; you are ex
pected to do so, and the price is fixed accord
ingly, always considerably higher than what the
artist is willing to accept. In every thousand
francs you may depend on a reduction of from
two to three hundred francs, if you are deter
mined to give no more. To such as have not
travelled in Italy, this may seem a shabby pro
ceeding; but those who have, will know that
overcharging is the invariable rule in that
country, and that if you pay without demur
what is asked, you are only laughed at behind
your back. The proof of the pudding is in the
eating, and I speak from experience, not only in
Venice, but also in Rome, Naples, Florence, and
Milan. At the latter place I purchased pictures
and statuary at the Brera and the Esposizione
Permanente, and always obtained considerable
reductions. No paintings can be exported from Italy with-

VENICE. 177
out an official permission, generally obtained by
the painter from the authorities of the Public
Picture Gallery, or Accademia di Belle Arti,
who give a written declaration as to the contents
of the cases in which the paintings are packed,
and also seal the cases themselves with their
seal, without which document and seal they
cannot be received by the railway companies or
steamers. Having neglected these precautions, a
number of very large cases, containing pictures,
which were already lying in a lighter alongside
the English steamer the " Princess," loading at
Venice, had to be taken back to the hotel, and
I should have been obliged to have them re-
conveyed to the Accademia, to be opened there
and verified, had I not, by a lucky accident, at
the right moment met with the painter who had
painted the Madonna, Signor Leone. He kindly
accompanied me in my gondola to the Acca
demia, where he obtained the written decla
ration, and also brought an official with him,
carrying the big seal of the Institution to seal
the cases.
While we were returning to the hotel, I asked
the official whether he had brought some sealing-
VOL. n. N

178 ROBA D' ITALIA.
wax, to which he replied that he had forgotten
it till the last moment, when he instructed another
man to fetch it, and meet us at the hotel by
going round to it by land. Here was a division.
of labour, no doubt intentional, for every hanger-
on of a public establishment with which you have
any transaction wants to get something out of
the forestiere. So when we arrived at the hotel,
the wax-bearer made his appearance, all out of
breath, triumphantly holding up the red stick,
like a marshal's baton, from afar; and the keeper
of the seal and his colleague set to work, and
impressed on the cases their passports, warmly
recommending those whom it might concern to
allow them free exit from the country. They
were then taken to the ship again, and stowed
away, and, I am happy to say, safely reached
their destination in England.
Commercial documents generally are supposed
to be, and, as a rule, are, very dry reading,
without a spark of poetry in them; yet the Bill
of Lading whicli was given to me on my shipping
the goods, sounds so grand and uncommercial,
that, for the benefit of persons who have never
seen such a thing, I subjoin a copy of it. There

VENICE.

179

is nothing fictitious in it, except the names of
the London agents and the consignee : —

Fratelli Saeto,
Steam-Ship Agents,
Venice.

Knife and Fork
Agents in London.

Shipped in good order and condition by C.
Pontifex, in and upon the steam-ship the " Prin
cess," whereof is Master, for this present voyage,
C. R. Frost, and now lying in this port and
bound for London.
And with liberty, during the voyage, to
call at any port or ports in any rotation
in the Mediterranean, Levant, or Adriatic,
or on the coast of Africa, Spain, and
Portugal, for the purpose of receiving and
delivering coals, cargo, or passengers, or
for any purpose whatsoever, to sail with
or without pilots, to tow and assist vessels
in all situations, and to carry goods of all
kinds.

Two cases of Paintings,
Three cases of Paintings,

being marked and numbered as in the margin, and are to be
delivered in the like good order and condition at the port of
London, in the manner described at the foot hereof.
The act of God, enemies, pirates, robbers, thieves, vermin,
barratry of master or mariners, restraints of princes, rulers, or
peoples, loss or damage resulting from insufficiency in strength
of packages, from sweating, leakage, breakage, or from stowage,
or from contact with other goods, or from any. of the following
perils, whether arising from the negligence, the fault, or error
in judgment of the master, mariners, engineers, or others of the
crew, or otherwise howsoever (excepted namely risk of craft,
N 2

180 ROBA D' ITALIA.
explosion, or fire at sea, in craft or on shore, boilers, steam, or
machinery, or from the consequence of any damage or injury
thereto, howsoever such injury or damage may be caused]
collision, stranding, or other peril of the sea, rivers, or naviga
tion of whatever nature or kind soever, and however such
collision, stranding, or other peril may be caused), unto John
Smith, No. 1, London, or to his or their assigns, he or they
paying the freight in cash on ship's arrival, free of interest,
for the said goods, at the rate of fifty shillings stowage per
ton, of forty square feet, with 10 per cent, primage. Average
accustomed.
In witness whereof, the master or agent of the said ship has affirmed
to two letters of lading, all of this tenor and date, one of which
being accomplished and delivered up to the ship's owners or their
agents, in exchange for the goods, the others to stand void.
Dated, Venice, 24th July, 1873.
A final paragraph throws all other risks on
the consignee; but what those other risks may
be, it would be difficult to tell, since every
imaginable and unimaginable risk of liability for
injury on their part is already provided against
shipowners. The reader will have noticed that the name of
the captain of the steamer was " Frost," Curiously
enough, the name of the captain of the "Envoy,"
an English steamer, belonging to the same owners,
that a few weeks after arrived at Venice, and
by which I dispatched some more cases of paint
ings, was " Snow."

SECTION VII.

MILAN.

SECTION" VII.

MILAN.
Fine Streets, Gardens, and Buildings — Galleria Vittorio Emanuele
— Mode of Lighting its Dome — Milanese Life Hard — Bad
Pavements — Trottoir Encumbered with Tables, Chairs, and
Loungers — Ill-bred Habit of staring at Clothes Cut according
to Wearer's Fancy — Barbarous Mode of Watering Streets — ¦
Hideous Dummies in Tailor's Shop facing the Cathedral —
Street Nuisances — Filthy Habit of Expectoration practised
everywhere— Borromeo's Tomb — At the Scala I hear the worst
Opera ever performed — Barbarossa's Vengeance — Beggars
Plentiful around Churches and just outside the Gates — Trick
Played on a Shopkeeper — Nuisance of frequent Bell-ringing — ¦
Occurrence in a Churchyard — A Man attends his own Funeral
— -Fanciful Explanations of the Figures in Leonardo da Vinci's
' Last Supper.'

184 ROBA D' ITALIA.

MILAN.
Milan is a very fine city. It has spacious streets,
lined with grand, and often palatial, houses ;
there are scarcely any poor districts, and no
back slums ; everybody seems to be well off;
you are not molested by beggars ; and may walk
in the beautiful public grounds, and admire the
monkeys and other animals in the Zoological
Gardens, without paying an entrance-fee. Milan
has a cathedral, a marble vision, which in size
is second only to St Peter's at Rome, and, in
my opinion, by its very simplicity and mono
lithic character, surpasses that building as much
as an ornament consisting of one large and
perfect diamond is superior to a similar ornament
consisting of many and variously- coloured stones.
The buildings already erected on two sides of
the Piazza del Duomo, some of them cased with
marble, and all rich in architectural and sculp
tural decorations, not in stucco, but in solid
stone, are of the most imposing aspect;

MILAN. 185
When the block of old houses still standing
opposite the cathedral is cleared away, so that
the palatial building now in course of erection
behind it can be seen, and the whole square is
thrown open, it will be one of the finest public
spaces of the kind in Europe. The cathedral
forms one of its sides ; on another is the grand
entrance to the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele, — an
arcade which, for size and beauty, throws all
similar structures far in the background, — its
splendid glass roof was, in June, 1874, par
tially destroyed by a furious hailstorm. It is
amusing to watch 'the mode of lighting up the
rotunda at the transept, the gallery being in
the form of a cross. There are jets of gas all
round, and behind them a circular railway, on
which a small locomotive, set in motion by clock
work, and carrying a torch of tow steeped in
spirits of wine, runs round, firing the gas, when
turned on, as it passes by the jets.
In a retreating angle of the Piazza, forming
a large square by itself, is the royal palace, rather
plain without, but having fine suites of rooms
within. The city has the second largest theatre
in Italy, the Scala. Its picture galleries at

186 ROBA D' ITALIA.
Brera and the Ambrosian Library are rich in
choice works. There are beautiful cafes, where
music may be heard every evening, in large halls
or the open air under wide-spreading trees, —
resorts which are altogether wanting in Genoa,
Florence, or even Rome. But in spite of all
this, Milan does not please me : there is a look
of hardness about it and its inhabitants. Coming
from Venice to Milan is like plunging from the
rich poetry of Shelley into the harsh realities of
Euclid. Firstly, there is none of the mellow
beauty that age gives to things to be found
here — everything is new, and stiff, and regular ;
even the people seem all to have smug faces;
the very policemen appear as if they stepped out
of band-boxes, and were only kejot for show,
their interference never being required, as every
thing here goes as by clock-work. With their
tall chimney-pot hats, frock-coats buttoned up to
the chin, and metal-topped canes with tassels,
they look like Silversticks-in- Waiting come out
for a little fresh air.
The streets, though lined, as I have said,
with many palatial buildings, lavishly decorated
with marble and sculpture, and lighted at night

MILAN. 187
with brilliant gas and lamps placed close together,
are horribly paved, the stones being mere pebbles,
stuck with their sharp ends upwards in loose
sand, so that you are glad to walk on the tramway
laid down in the middle for vehicles. To cross
the beautiful Piazza del Duomo is as bad as
making a pilgrimage with unboiled peas in your
shoes ; and if all the wrathful words I have
uttered in performing the feat are registered
against me, woe is me ! The foot-pavement,
where there is one, — and such is but seldom the
case in the central parts of the town, — is generally
very narrow, and always encumbered, not only
with loungers, who never think of moving to let
you pass, but with the tables and chairs of the
caf^s, so that you are compelled to walk on the
execrable pavement of the roadway. Do the
keepers of the cafes pay for the privilege of
occupying the public footway ? If they do not,
what right have they to it? And if they do,
how is it the Milanese have not long ago revolted
against the nuisance ?
At the corner of the Piazza della Scala and
the Via del Giardino, whose official designation
now is Via Manzoni, there is one of those caf6s,

188 ROBA D' ITALIA.
whose tables and chairs always occupy the whole
trottoir, so that it is impossible to turn that
corner without going into the road, though the
carriage traffic just at that point is very great.
But as if to assert their right to impede loco
motion, the loungers, always abounding there,
draw their chairs close to the edge of the pave
ment, and elongate their legs to the utmost
extent. I believe it was Charles Dickens who, in one
of his writings, speaking of the habit English
people have of staring at any article of dress
not cut according to the prevailing fashion, says
that he wore a peculiar coat, because he found
it comfortable, all over the Continent without
its exciting the least attention. He evidently did
not go to Milan with that coat. I like to dress
according to the fashion that pleases me, and that
excludes the short coats now fashionable. I like
mine long. As the weather was very hot during
my first stay at Milan, I wore a loose nankeen
coat. Wherever I passed this coat immediately
became a cynosure. The idlers outside the caffe,
the loungers on the pavement, not only looked
at it, but laughed loudly ; and men, whom from

MILAN. 189
their dress you would have taken for gentlemen,
positively turned round, not slily, but openly,
before I had passed them, to stare after me, and
indulge in vulgar laughter. If they had known
the contempt they inspired me with, they might,
perhaps, have been a little more cautious in the
expression of their sentiments. But the poor
loafers must, after my departure, have missed the
excitement, the sight of my coat gave them, very
sadly. The fops here have a disagreeable way
of carrying their sticks and umbrellas, protruding
them behind or sideways in the most unexpected
manner, so that you are in constant danger of
having your eyes put out.
The mode of watering the streets is the most
barbarous you can imagine. Instead of letting
the water spurt out from a perforated tube, a
hose, some ten yards long, is attached to the
water-cart, at whose end there is a kind of
perforated cap ; fixed to this is a rope, the outer
end of which a poor wretch holds in his hand,
swinging it to and fro, as he runs behind the
advancing cart, thus scattering the water right
and left. To witness this torturing toil was, to
me, one of the most painful sights of Milan.

190 ROBA D' ITALIA.
Nowhere, again, do you meet so many cripples
as in this city ; men with legs, not only bandy,
but distorted in the most shocking manner, and
forming all kinds of geometrical figures, are as
plentiful as cats on house-tops.
The Italians are supposed to have the taste
of beauty innate in them. In coming down the
Corso Vittorio Emanuele, and passing along the
cathedral, notice its niches, all filled with marble
statues, some of them of great merit, and then
look opposite, and you will see a large tailor's
shop, something in the Moses & Son style, which
was opened while I was at Milan. In one of its
windows you will see a whole party of those
, hideous wax dummies cheap tailors exhibit their
shoddy suits on, and before this repulsive
assemblage Italian men and women, dressed in
fashionable style, and therefore pretending to some
education, stood all day, gaping and staring,
while for the statues over the way they had not
a look ! You may say they had seen them often
enough. Well, if they had, the statues had had
very little effect in educating and refining their
taste, or they would have turned away with
disgust from the abortions in the Sartorial

MILAN. 191
Chamber of Horrors, which have not even the
sickly interest attaching to models of assassins and
poisoners. In London I have frequently seen girls of all
ages dance in the open street to the tune of an
itinerant organ, and occasionally you see really
graceful motions and correct steps. I noticed girls
at Milan amusing, and trying to amuse, themselves
in the same way ; but their movements were as
uncouth and gawky as those of young hippopotami
may be : instead of dancing, they merely pulled
each other- about — Venus does not seem ever to
have lent these young Italian girls her girdle.
A nuisance, to which I have alluded more point
edly elsewhere, is very common at Milan. You
cannot pass even through that great thoroughfare,
the Via del Giardino, without having eyes and
nose offended. And the Milanese have not the
excuse of ignorance of methods for doing away
with the abomination, for at the commencement
of the Corso di Venezia there is a regular
English withdrawing-room, coming from an
English foundry, in the shape of a rotunda. So,
if the Municipality of Milan wish to prove their
civilization, let them at once order a few dozens

192 ROBA D' ITALIA.
of these " Round Towers," which no doubt will
at first puzzle the Italians as much as the Round
Towers of Ireland perplex our antiquarians. But
by-and-by they may find out their use, and
gradually become willing to resort to them,
instead of stopping at the nearest corner.
I need scarcely say that the street pavement
is dotted all over with the marks of the filthy
habit of expectoration. In the Milanese cafes,
whose ceilings are painted and gilt, the floor is
always one mass of pollution. So is the marble
floor of the cathedral, though this is not peculiar to
the dome of Milan. Throughout Italy the devout
worshipper has no hesitation in dropping his filth
on the most artistic mosaics, and making the
shrine of the saint he prays to a pool of nastiness.
When I went to see the tomb of Borromeo, in
the crypt of the cathedral, the priest, who showed
me the marvels of that gorgeous mausoleum,
coolly spat on the floor; and I really could not
tell which was more offended, my moral or my
physical sense, when directly after he pointed out
to me the defunct cardinal's motto, " Humility."
The jewelled mummy lying in the silver-framed
crystal case before me may not be answerable

MILAN. 193
for all this extravagant pomp surrounding it, but
was humility the living cardinal's principle ? We
trow not. As he fought most fiercely for the
Romish Church against the Reformation, he has
been extolled by Popish writers as a model of
every virtue, but the bloodshed he caused in
Switzerland, by inducing seven Catholic cantons
to form a league against those cantons that advo
cated the new creed, cannot be wiped away by
servile admirers. He was a man of the stamp
of Bellarmine, already referred to (vol. i. p. 141),
haughtily patronizing those that bowed to him,
but persecuting with priestly rage all that dared
to differ from or oppose him, or the great idol
he worshipped, and on which, in fact, his own
influence and grandeur depended, — the Pope's.
The most miserable opera I ever heard, that
contained not one single air one would care to
remember, was performed at Milan. It was a
new work, by a Milanese composer, and entitled
1 Giovanna di Napoli.' As I take great interest
in the history of this queen, I went to La Scala
prepossessed in favour of the opera, but was
sorely disappointed. The audience hissed and
hooted, but, as it seemed to me, some of the
VOL. II. o

194 ROBA D' ITALIA. ^
actors and actresses rather than the performance
— the claque is not unknown at Milan. The
gallantry of its inhabitants never was very great,
and to their want of it is to be attributed the
fact that no very ancient building is to be found
there. The wife of Barbarossa, with whom Milan
was then at war, having, out of curiosity, gone
to that city incognita, and been recognized, the
Milanese placed her backwards on an ass, and
thus led her through the town. Barbarossa, on
learning this outrage, immediately besieged the
city, and, after a long resistance, captured it. He
caused it to be entirely rased to the ground, and,
to avenge the insult offered to the empress, those
of the inhabitants who wished to save their lives
had to undergo so shameful and degrading a
humiliation, that for a description of it I must
refer the reader to stern and outspoken history.
Though you meet no bond fide beggars in the
streets of Milan, you are beset by them the
moment you get outside the gates. A few also
congregate on the sly at the portals of the
dome, where, if they see a policeman, they can
slip inside the building and pretend to- be count
ing their beads and praying to the Madonna,

MILAN. 195
whilst in reality they are worshipping Mammon.
Moreover, beggars in disguise are plentiful enough.
Itinerant vendors of rubbish hover }n swarms
round the caffe, and, as soon as a customer
takes his seat, they pounce on him as flies on
a lump of sugar. If you are smoking, dirty little
boys, who have scarcely outgrown the liquorice-
sucking period, come and ask you for the end
of your cigar. When you buy this article, the
dealer never thinks of wrapping it up in paper,
unless you ask him, and then he is so stingy
with his dirty bit of newspaper, that you prefer
making him a present of it.
The cigars themselves, supplied by the Regia,
or Government factory at Milan, are so bad,
that even in the public prints complaints are
constantly made about them. " We have on our
table," said the Secolo, in one of its editions,
" a number of cigar-stumps. A thin leaf of
tobacco encloses a quantity of dirt and straw,
intermixed, perhaps for scenting, with a few
hairs. The letters which accompany these stumps
are furious, and the writers have good cause to
grumble, seeing the stomach and head aches such
rubbish produces." o 2

196 ROBA D7 ITALIA.
We have heard in England of gentlemen being
asked by interesting young mothers to hold
babies for an instant, the mothers stepping aside,
and never coming back. A somewhat similar
trick, with a difference, was played on a linen-
draper at Milan during my second visit to that
town. A lady in a handsome carriage, and with
a lovely baby in her arms, drove up to the shop,
alighted, bringing the dear creature in with her.
She selected a number of dresses and other arti
cles, which were put into the carriage. She then
asked whether she could leave her sleeping infant
in a room, as she had to make another call, and
could not take him into the house she was going
to. The polite shopkeeper, rejoicing at the profit
the transaction brought him, instantly told his
wife to take the lady upstairs into the connubial
bed-room. This was done, the baby carefully
deposited on the bed, and the lady also left her
parasol and purse she carried in her hand. If
the child should wake up before her return, they
were to give it some eau sucree, to prevent its
crying. She then re-entered her carriage, and
drove away. Two hours passed, and the lady
had not yet returned. The linen-draper's wife

MILAN. 197
went upstairs to see how the baby got on. It
was still asleep, but she could not hear it breathe.
Frightened at this she uncovered it, and soon
her husband was called up to learn the discovery
his wife had made, namely, that the baby con
sisted of pasteboard, that the parasol was old
and torn, and the purse empty. Of course he
never saw his customer or his dresses again.
But revenons d nos moutons. Another fearful
nuisance at Milan is the frequent bell-ringing, now
at this, now at that church. At Rome and Naples,
where a flavour of poetry mingles with everything,
clerical chimes are bearable ; but here, in this
dull, prosaic, matter-of-fact city, such a hubbub of
cracked, harsh, grinding sounds, as the bells you
may hear at all hours of the day, pour forth, is an
incongruity, quite opposed to the eternal fitness of
things. As the stones beneath penetrate your feet,
so these knells of your peace pierce your ears like
pins, and melt your spinal marrow. With Voltaire
I often exclaimed against bell-ringers ;—
" Perslcuteurs du genre humain,
Qui sonnez sans misencorde,
Que n'avez-vous au cou la corde,
Que vous tenez dans votre main ! "

198 ROBA D' ITALIA.
As they ring their bells, I should like to wring their
necks. But the unimaginative Milanese come out strong
in the matter of death. They have established a
splendid cemetery outside the Porte Tenaglia and
Garibaldi, surrounded by beautiful buildings, not
yet finished, and already containing some very
fine monuments. A funeral is a picturesque sight,
especially when four ladies walk by the hearse, one
at each corner, holding in their hands one end of
a black band, the other being attached to the car.
The following occurrence, which happened on
the 21st of April, 1873, will show how the Milanese
can go mad sometimes. A Signor Ambrosini was
being buried in the cemetery of Porta Vittoria.
Just as they were lowering the coffin, one of the
friends of the deceased rushed forward and threw
himself into the grave, shrieking that he would
die with him. The frantic man was lifted out of
the grave and led away from the spot. His friends
tried to calm him, but in vain, when a bystander
kindly remarked that, if he really wished to die,
the canal was close at hand. Instantly the maniac
threw himself over the parapet. Again he was
rescued, and the cold water having apparently

MILAN. 199
cured his fevered brain, he quietly walked home,
perhaps to beat his wife. I can never think of
such ardent friends, without fancying, at the same
time, that they are very cool husbands, preferring
the billiard and smoking room of the club to the
society of their wives. I always considered the
husband in Gbthe's ' Elective Affinities ' a brute
and a fool, and the fate that overtakes him well
deserved. The day before I arrived at Milan (19th August,
1873), just as an empty hearse was coming out
of the large new cemetery, a man jumped upon
it, and laid himself down flat upon the boardj
where the coffin is placed. The hearses are not
closed as with us, but the coffin lies under a sort
of canopy, supported by columns at the four
angles. When he was told to get down, he cried
that he wished to see how he would look when
dead, and, in fact, desired to do as Charles V. had
done,— ^which latter remark proved that the mad
man had studied history, and profitably. But the
best of the thing was to come yet. The people
in and about the churchyard, seeing a live body
move on the hearse, ran away in the utmost
consternation, crying, that the dead were coming

200 ROBA D' ITALIA.
to life again; which in many cases, we admit,
would be awkward.
I don't think there is anything more to be said
about Milan, and, with Byron, exclaim : —
" So now all things are d — d, one feels at ease,
As after reading Athanasius' curse,
Which doth your true believer so much please."
I left Milan without regret in the beginning of
October ; the weather was already growing chilly,
and I looked forward to enjoying a second spring
in the genial clime of Nice. Only passing
through Genoa this time, as I intended seeing
it on my return, I reached Nice on the 7th of
October. P.S. — I cannot leave Milan without giving the
reader some information that may be useful to
him. Copies of Leonardo da Vinci's famous fresco,
' The Last Supper,' in the Convent of Le Grazie,
in Milan, are common enough everywhere, but
most people would be puzzled to say what each
face is meant to express. At the convent, when
you examine the painting, a paper is given to
you, affording such explanations as you may, or
may not, accept. It requires some imagination

MILAN. 201
to see all the commentator discovers in the faces.
However, here is what he says : —
" If we examine attentively each figure of this wonderful work, we
perceive, first : —
Bartholomew (the first figure on the left hand side of the spectator),
uncertain and doubtful about what he has heard, wants to be
assured by Christ himself, and by no other. We observe after
wards :
James the Just, who inquires, with more calmness, from those whom
he thinks can inform him.
Andrew is struck with wonder and amazement.
Peter interrogates with threatening anger.
Judas, amazed at being discovered, composes himself again with an
ill-disguised deceit.
John turns to Peter, who questions him, and leaves by this move
ment to be conspicuously seen the figure of our
Redeemer. He, meek and grave, shows and almost shades His
deep anguish, which, however, does not in the least alter His
beauty, greatness, and majesty.
James the Elder is horror struck.
Thomas swears to revenge himself.
Philip protests his love.
Matthew confirms sorrowfully our Redeemer's words.
Thaddaus, suspicious.
Simon doubts."

SECTION VIII.

NICE.

SECTION" VIII.

NICE.
Dearness of Living — Hiring Apartments and Villas — Villa to avoid
— Apartments Recommended — Where to Buy Wine and Flowers
— Beauty of Climate — Splendid View from the Castle Hill — ¦
The Pope Paul II. Visits Nice — Monument to Commemorate
Visit — Catherine Segurana — Column in Memory of Passage of
Pius VII. — The River Paillon — Some Noteworthy Houses —
Composers fond of Nice — Bay of Angels ; why so called —
Neither Fish nor Boats at Nice — The Chateau Anglais — The
Terraces — Bad Pavement, Want of Shade, Broken Fences, and
Abundance of Beggars on the Promenade des Anglais — Short
and Rare Playing of the Town Band — Want of Employes at
the Post-office — The Pensiero di Nizza on the Tichborne Case
— Notre Dame de Nice — Baptizing of Negro Boys — The Cathe
dral, and its Pompous Beadle — Intolerant Priests — Pray for
Rain during the Carnival — Corteges and Maskers at the
Carnival — King Dagobert and the Bird-Catcher — Fancy
Bazaar — Nicois Newspapers — Mrs. Prodgers's Parties — Mr.
Prodgers's Pedestrianism — Nicois Notion of English High
Life — French Translated into English — Doubtful Characters
abound at Nice — A Hotel-Keeper Swindled — A Prisoner's
Escape by Burning the Door of his Cell — The Island of Sta
Margherita — Old Coaches brought out at the Races.

206 ROBA D' ITALIA.

NICE.
And now I 've got to Mistress Fraser,
Perhaps you think I 'm going to praise her :
And now I 've got to Nice, to which the prop'rest
rhyme is " fleece," for it certainly is one of the
most swindling places it ever was my misfortune
to be in. Since its annexation to France, prices
of everything have trebled ; even fruit and vege
tables, which in this beautiful clime ought almost
to be given away, are extravagantly dear. For
instance, apples, which in London may be bought
six for a penny, here cost about three farthings
a piece; whilst oranges are quite as dear as,
and even dearer than, in England. Bradshaw,
in his 'Continental Guide,' says that "all kinds
of fruit are extremely cheap at Nice." This is
simply a hoax, and refers to a time which only
" the oldest inhabitant " can remember.
The hotel charges, the Hotel Chauvain ex
cepted, are abominably high; and if you hire
an apartment, and are known to be a stranger,

NICE. 207
the shopkeepers with whom you deal make a
pretty penny out of you. I speak from my own
personal experience, and that acquired by seeing
the weekly bills of some friends of mine, who
were staying at Nice at the same time I was
there. There is further a conspiracy among the
proprietors of villas and apartments to let, to
compel you to take either for the whole season
of six months, paying the first half of the rent —
and no villa or first floor apartment on the
Promenade des Anglais can be had under seven
thousand francs — on taking possession, and the
other half at the end of three months. Now, as
few people stay the whole season, and it is but
seldom you have a chance of under-letting on
your departure before the expiration of the term,
the landlord* evidently is a gainer in all ways,
especially as in every case he also further extracts
from the tenant a considerable sum for damages,
re-tinning of kitchen utensils, and washing of
curtains, counterpanes, &c. An English family
I know took the villa numbered 81 on the Pro
menade des Anglais. It is poorly and insuffi
ciently furnished, so that the family at their own
expense had to hire additional furniture. It is

208 ROBA D' ITALIA.
badly built, as badly as a London house built to
sell, and positively unsafe, for one night a great
portion of the ceiling of a bed-room came down,
large pieces of plaster falling right on a bed
underneath, in which, luckily, there was no one
sleeping at the time, for the family had left the
villa a week or fortnight after entering it, they
having found it a most wretched place to live in,
both on account of its internal deficiencies, and
its distance from the town. There is no cab-stand
within about twenty minutes' walk from it, and
the foot-pavement all along the Promenade des
Anglais is only fit for people who have qualified
themselves for it by having walked on shingles
for a year or two, being composed simply of
pebbles brought from the beach, and stuck on
end, with all the earth originally between them
washed out by the rain.
Well, the family in question left the villa, and
though they tried every means to re-let it, at a
considerable reduction, they were unsuccessful.
Its miserable furniture and cracked walls deterred
everybody who saw it from taking it. The
original tenants of course had seen these defects,
but having an invalid with them, they wished

NICE. 209
on his account to have a villa on the Promenade,
and as this was the only one of suitable size,
they waived the objection, which formed an
insuperable bar to their re-letting it. It stood
empty during the whole time they were at Nice.
It cost them some eight thousand francs in rent,
agency fees, improvements, and additional furni
ture they had enjoyed for a fortnight only, though
they had to pay for three months' hire ; and
when they gave up the villa to the landlord,
two months before the expiry of the term, he
made them pay nearly a hundred francs more
for " damages." So to any one looking out for
a villa on the Promenade des Anglais, I would
say, Beware of number 81 !
There are handsome and well-furnished apart
ments, that is, suites of rooms, to be had along
the Promenade. To persons who do not mind
to pay well for comfort and position, I would
advise to take rooms, if there are any to let, in
the house numbered 27, to the right of the gate
way. My friends above spoken of had a suite
of rooms there, and had every reason to be satisfied
with the landlord's conduct; and as I myself
rented an apartment from him in another of his
VOL. II. P

210 ROBA D' ITALIA.
houses, and was very liberally treated by him, I
will not withhold from him the praise due to
him. We ought to speak well of the bridge
that carries us safely over. And now that I am
on business bent, and in the mood, let me also
recommend Mr. Hodgson, the wine-merchant.
You will find his wines, spirits, and bottled ale
and stout, superior to, and cheaper than, any
you can get at other houses. If he ever hears
of what I have here said of him, he will probably
be surprised, as I never told him what my
opinion was on this point. But I would rather
speak well of people behind their backs than to
their faces. If my opinion of them is bad, I
don't mind telling them to their faces, as I did,
for instance, to the landlord of the villa 81,
Promenade des Anglais. If he hears what I
have said about him, he will not be surprised.
Again, if you want to buy flowers, or a nose
gay, for the getting-up of which Nice is famous,
Alphonse Karr, who preferred being known as a
florist to literary fame, having taught the art to
the Nicjois, go to the woman in the porch of the
Hotel Chauvain, and you will obtain a bouquet,
which elsewhere they will ask thirty francs for,

NICE. 211
at an outlay of half that sum ; and if you tell
her that you come to her, pour V amour de vos
beaux yeux — which are really very fine — you will
get a pleasant smile in the bargain. There is
another flower-shop under the colonnade of the
Place Massena, where they make up beautiful
bouquets at reasonable prices ; there is also the
shop formerly Alphonse Karr's, but there you have
to pay extra for the name.
The climate of Nice certainly is delicious.
Till the middle of November I walked about in
nankeen coat and trousers, and might have done
so all the winter through, if one could always
stay on the Promenade along the seashore ; out
ofthe sun it is, of course, cold. But during the
day, with the sun fiercely shining down upon
you from a dark-blue sky, palm-trees, evergreens,
orange and citron trees, hanging, full of golden
fruit, around you, it is difficult in the month of
December or January, to realize the fact that
you are in the midst of winter. The scenery
roundabout is beautiful. Ascend the castle hill,
as it is still called, though now there is scarcely
a vestige left even of the ancient fortifications,
and you will enjoy a view which is unrivalled
p 2

212 ROBA D' ITALIA.
for beauty even along the much-favoured shores
of Southern France. I will not attempt to
describe the prospect ; no description can give
an idea of its beauty, — It must be seen ; and those
who see it need no description. But I may
mention, that the view the spectator obtains from
there will explain to him the special reasons
which, in addition to the general one of geogra
phical situation, render the climate of Nice so
mild and pleasant. He will see that the town,
facing due south, is enclosed by a triple chain of
hills, rising in about two-thirds of a circle amphi-
theatrically around the arena in which Nice is
situated, thus keeping off all the cold winds from
the north, and concentrating the sun's heat on
the town and its immediate environs. He will
also clearly see the position of the old town
immediately at the foot of the hill, where it
nestled to enjoy the protection of the guns of the
castle, when- there was one; and its buildings
covered nearly the whole top of the hill.
In the middle of the sixteenth century Nice
was chosen for the place of conference between
the King of France and the Emperor Charles V.,
the Pope, Paul III., to be the mediator between

NICE. 213
them. The latter, before coming to Nice,
demanded that the citizens should withdraw all
soldiers from the castle during the Congress, his
object being, as the historians of the period
assert, to hand over the castle to his nephew,
Peter Farnese. The Governor, however, refused,
and the Pope tried to obtain possession of it by
stratagem. A number of soldiers, disguised as
servants, arrived at the gate, and asked leave to
take the Pope's carriages into the castle. On
examining them, they were found to contain a
large quantity of arms. Immediately the bridges
were raised, and the gates closed against the
Pontiff, who thereupon took up his quarters in
the convent of the Holy Cross. The two
sovereigns established themselves respectively at
Villefranche and Villeneuve; but the conference
only led to a truce of ten years.
To commemorate the Pope's visit, though he
had signalized it by attempted treachery, zealous
Catholics, in 1568, erected the marble cross,
surmounted by a pupola, resting on four columns,
still standing in the Rue de France, and obstruct
ing, with one angle of its pyramidal pedestal, the
trottoir. It would be very easy to remove that

214 ROBA D' ITALIA.
corner, if it is not thought advisable to take
down the whole structure, which only recalls a
political fiasco and Popish deceit.
The ten years' truce did scarcely last four.
In 1542 the King of France, the eldest son of
the Church, concluded an offensive and defensive
alliance with Soliman II. , the Turkish Emperor,
whose troops attacked the castle of Nice. Some
Turkish soldiers had already gained the ramparts,
and one of them raised the standard of the
crescent on them. But the courage of a woman,
Catherine Segurana, saved the castle. Cutting
down the standard with a hatchet, she seized the
former, and, crying " Victory ! " led the flying
soldiers afresh against the enemy. The Janissaries,
seized with terror, beat a precipitate retreat. This
heroine, however, was no Joan of Arc; she was
of low birth, her chastity somewhat doubtful, and
she was so plain, as to be known by the sobriquet,
la donna maufaccia, the ugly woman. The town,
nevertheless, erected a statue to her, whicli has
disappeared. The castle was destroyed in 1706,
by the Duke of Berwick, in obedience to the
commands of Louis XIV.
Opposite to the marble cross is a column

NICE. 215
enclosed by an iron railing. This also was
erected to commemorate the visit of a Pope,
Pius VII., on his way to Paris, where he scarcely
wanted to go. I wonder the Popes concerned
did not put a veto on the erection of these me
morials, which do not record events particularly
glorious to themselves.
Forming the western boundary of the old
town is the river Paillon, which, as they say at
Nice, washes and dries the clothes of the Nicjois ;
for, though its bed is very wide, there is only a
thread of water running through it, whose edges
are occupied by armies of washerwomen, who
spread and hang up the washed linen on the stony
bed around. It is true, occasionally the water
does come down quite suddenly. Fourteen times
during the last three centuries the river bed was
filled to such an extent as to do serious damage.
The last inundation occurred in 1837. It is
crossed by four bridges, and a square, laid out
as a garden, in the centre of which stands the
statue of Massena, with a head much too small
for the body. The Muse of History, seated on the
pedestal, seems to have served as a model for a
similar figure at the foot of Cavour's statue at Milan.

216 ROBA D5 ITALIA.
Massena was born at Nice ; and in the same
house and room, as it is averred, was born, in
July, 1807, a man, far greater than he, — a man,
whom to have produced, is as great an honour
to Italy, as to have given birth to Columbus, — a
man who might have been King of Italy, had he
so willed it, but preferred being something far
greater, the Liberator of his country, and who will
live as such in History, as we speak of Columbus,
not as Viceroy of the Indies, but the " Admiral," —
Garibaldi. In the house, No. 11, Rue de la Pre
fecture, died Paganini; and at No. 5, Rue de
France, Halevy, wherefore the adjoining street,
leading to the Promenade des Anglais, is called
after that composer.
Nice appears to have been a favourite resort
of musicians. In the round bastion, once part
of the castle fortifications, still standing above
the Pension Suisse, Meyerbeer composed a great
portion of the ( Africaine.' A villa in the Venetian
style, facing the Boulevard de 1' Imperatrice (of
Russia), is now the residence of Sophie Cruvelli,
the wife of Baron Vigier. At No. 1, Rue de
Villefranche was lodged Napoleon, when, in 1794,
after the fall of Robespierre, he was placed under

NICE. 217
arrest. The owner of the house, Count Laurenti,
was security for him. Two years later, when
Napoleon had become the commander of the army
of Italy, he again lodged for five days at No. 8,
Rue St. Francois-de-Paule.
The bay in which Nice is situate is called the
Bay of Angels ; and tradition accounts for this
name by saying that once a trading vessel be
longing to Nice was seen making all sail for the
harbour, pursued by an Algerine pirate, who was
fast gaining upon it. All hope of escape seemed
at an end, when suddenly a number of angels
appeared from out the sky — real dei ex machind —
and set to pushing the NiQois ship forward, so
that the pirate was quickly left far behind, and
the Nicois crew triumphantly entered the port,
whereupon the angels retired,
" And nobly took no money."
The Bay of Angels, and, in fact, this part of
the Mediterranean in general, is very poor in
fish. The excessive use of destructive nets, and
the abundance of porpoises in its waters, are
said to be the causes of this scarcity. I have
often felt the greatest pity for the poor fisher
men, when seeing half-a-dozen or more of them

218 ROBA D' ITALIA.
laboriously draw in their big net, to find at last
nothing in it but a sprat or two. The few bigger
fish they may have caught generally leap out
of the net into the free ocean again, as soon as
they are near enough to the surface for the feat.
Again, there is no boating hereabouts, which in
some respects is a comfort; for you may walk
along the beach, if you have a taste for this
questionable amusement, without being pestered
with the cry so familiar to English ears, — "Want
a boat, sir ? Fine day for a sail." And as there
is no tide, no selfish friend can ask you to walk
on the sands and get damp feet.
Among the buildings that cannot fail to strike
the eye on looking round the bay is the large
chateau, apparently of a nondescript style of
architecture, crowning the promontory of Mont
Boron. It is known at Nice as the Chateau
Anglais, or Chateau Smith, having been built
by an English Colonel of that name, who, in the
service of the now defunct East India Company,
had fortified Delhi, and brought to Europe a
passion for the Indian and military style of
architecture. The proprietor died a short time
ago. The hill on which the castle, with all the

NICE. 219
outbuildings or outworks belonging to it, stands,
was originally a bare rock. All the earth, the
trees and shrubs now on it, had to be brought
there. The Anglo-Indian officer, however, not
only beautified that particular spot, — when I say
beautified, I use the term in a qualified sense,
and simply allude to his turning an arid rock
into what it is now; for I do not admire the
building, it looks too much like a set scene on
the stage, — but induced other persons to erect
villas and mansions in that locality, which before
then had been totally neglected.
A curious erection are the terraces — broad walks
on the tops of two rows of low houses — facing
the sea. Once they formed the favourite prome
nade of natives and visitors, but now they are
the most deserted part of Nice, and scarcely
a soul is ever seen on them, the Promenade
des Anglais, along which are most of the chief
hotels, now being the only orthodox resort.
Besides, I do not see how they ever got bath*
chairs on the terraces, to which you ascend by
steps. The Promenade des Anglais, though a splendid
esplanade, might be improved in one or two

220 ROBA D' ITALIA.
respects. The horrible pavement on the side of
the houses ought to be replaced by asphalt; on
the sea-side a few shade-yielding trees might be
planted, for palms, though very picturesque, and
calculated to strengthen the impression that one
is far away from cold, fog, and snow, afford no
shelter under a broiling sun ; for the miserable
sticks, that now form the low fences around the
beds along the promenade in the Jardin Public,
and on the quays, — fences which, consequently, are
always half-broken down, and give the stranger,
seeing them for the first time, an unfavouable idea
of the way in which the Municipality attends to
its duties, — cast-iron railings of pretty design ought
to be substituted. In fact, the Municipality does
not do much for the visitors by whom Nice lives
and grows rich. The visitors to Nice are calcu
lated to leave behind them annually the sum of
twenty million francs.
Even in the matter of music, whicli in all health
resorts is considered of paramount importance, very
little entertainment is provided, though the Nicois
papers are constantly proclaiming the promenade
as overflowing with fashionable visitors. The town
band during the season plays twice a week, and

VENICE. 221
once on a Sunday, for one hour-and-a-half each
time, viz. from four till half-past five p.m. This
certainly is not a fair allowance for a place like
Nice. In many a small German watering-place
good bands play as often as three times every day.
Yet this is positively the only amusement provided
by the Municipality for the thousands of visitors
that come here every year.
Some more efficient police supervision also ought
to exist. Between about ten and two o'clock
during the day, when invalids especially seek the
warm sun on the Promenade, not a policeman is
to be seen ; and this being well known to the
beggars, who lie in wait for this harvest-time,
they swarm on the Promenade, to the no small
annoyance of strangers. In the Jardin Public, too,
the only shady place, generally full of nurses with
their howling charges, the police might be in
structed to suppress the disgusting exhibitions
constantly occurring there, and rendering passing
through it impracticable during the heat of the
day, just when you most want to do so ; the foulest
opers'- "\ of the nursery are there performed in
the lS J& ^all the people.
2.C ?Sr evil that causes much grumbling at

222 ROBA D' ITALIA.
Nice, is the want of sufficient personnel at the Post-
office. There is only one for the whole town, and
only three employes for the weighing of letters and
sale of stamps, the issue and payment of money-
orders, and the delivery of letters addressed poste
restantes, so that you are frequently obliged to
wait twenty minutes or half-an-hour before your
turn arrives for being attended to, whilst you have
to stand in the midst of a sometimes unsavoury
crowd pressing on you from all sides. The com
plaints of the Nicois themselves are loud and deep,
but the Government takes no notice of them. The
Nicois are annexed, and must submit. If a news
paper dares speak too freely, — as the Pensiero di
Nizza, a paper in the Italian language, did while
I was there, — the authorities, not venturing exactly
to suppress it, prohibit its being sold in the kiosks
or the streets.
This said paper, the Pensiero di Nizza, in De
cember, 1873, had an article on the Tichborne case,
and, not having the fear of English law before its
eyes, dared to express its conviction — a correct
one — as to its merits, before the jury hejg, had
given their verdict. " That the Claiman\e tt an
impostor was again proved within the lasu "few

nice. 223
days, if proof were any longer needed. Since
the collapse of the civil case the imposture was
evident. The tattoo marks known to have been
on the arm of Roger Tichborne are not on the
arm of the Claimant, and he cannot adduce any
proof that he was saved from the " Osprey." The
evidence given by a man calling himself Luie, but
whose real name is Lungrin, and who is a thief
by profession, has been proved to be totally false.
In spite of all this, there are still persons who get
into a rage, when the identity of the Claimant
and Sir Roger is called in question !" Such is the
condensed account of the article in the Pensiero
di Nizza.
Nice at present has nothing to show in the
way of ecclesiastical edifices; but a fine church,
dedicated to Notre Dame de Nice, is in the
course of erection on the Avenue de la Gare;
it is of stone, and in the purest Gothic .. style
of the thirteenth century. A portion of it has
for some time been in use for public wor
ship. In fact, on the 10th of February, 1874, a
grand festival was held therein, the occasion
being the baptizing of two nigger boys, who
had been brought over by the brethren of the

224 ROBA D' ITALIA.
African mission, at which all the dignitaries of
the church that could be got together assisted.
It seems the missionary business is not more
profitable in France than here — two poor little
niggers ! How much had each cost the dupes
who subscribe to missions ? The cathedral in
the old town is, without, a shabby-looking build
ing, and, within, decorated in the worst style.
But the Suisse, who perambulates it in a cocked-
hat, wearing a sword, and carrying a halbert
in his hand, is as majestic a creature as Bumble
himself; though what a man, armed with the
weapons of war, has to do in the house of God,
is more than I could ever understand.
The priests are not in particularly good odour
here, for they are most intolerant. During my
stay at Nice, one of them, the priest Bernardi,
belonging to the parish Del Porto, was called in
to administer the sacrament to a dying woman.
On entering the house, one of her relations asked
the priest to wait a moment, saying she would
go and prepare the sick person for his visit;
he rudely replied, " If you like, I will go away
again at once." On being remonstrated with for
putting unnecessary and impertinent questions to

nice. 225
the invalid, and told that he was in the house
of Christians, he insolently replied, " Oh, yes,
there are many who call themselves Christians,
and yet have on their walls the portraits of
Victor Emanuel, Garibaldi, and similar devils."
On the day preceding the one fixed for the
opening of the Carnival, the priests carried the
figure of St Anthony, who is the patron of rain,
in procession round the cathedral, praying for
wet weather, so that the Carnival should not
take place. And the wooden effigy must have
considerably risen in the estimation of fools, for
it poured in torrents on the first day; the second
day was showery, but the third fine. The priests
had a triumph nearly complete, but it did not
increase the respect they are held in by thinking
people, who laughed at them for their ridiculous
mummery, and blamed them for the want of good
will they displayed towards their fellow-citizens.
It was probably because the Municipality strictly
forbids any religious allusion, that St Anthony was
not carried round the Corso in a mock procession.
The Carnival was not a bad exhibition for so
small a place ; in some things, such as the show
of decorated cars, it was superior to the Roman
VOL. II. Q

226 ROBA D' ITALIA.
Carnival. Prizes were given, as at Rome, to the
handsomest cars, finest cavalcades, and best
masques on foot. Some six thousand francs were
thus given away. The money perhaps might
have been spent more usefully on permanent
improvements; but, as the visitors got the benefit
of the expenditure in the amusement it afforded
them, they have no right to complain. Some
of the cars were really tastefully got up : the Car
of Peace, with elegantly dressed ladies and gentle
men in mediaeval costumes ; the Hunt of King
Dagobert; the Frogs, men enclosed in gigantic
framework of cane and green calico, imitating
those animals; Flowers of Nice, ladies dressed
in rich costumes of white casimire, — these were
the most admired. There were cars on which
various trades were represented with poetical
licence — a blacksmith at the anvil, forged a piece
of iron, but his work was ironical forgery; a
sawyer more frequently laid the dust out of
a bottle than brought any down; a cobbler, pre
tending to mend a boot, worked in so slovenly
a manner that he could never heal it; the cook
only spoilt the broth; the hatter behaved, accord
ing to popular creed, madly.

. nice. 227
Various groups paraded the streets on foot.
There was a whole dining-room suite of furniture
gadding about, probably under the influence of a
notorious spiritualist, not very favourably known
in England as the hero of a lawsuit brought against
him, and who was then driving up and down
the Corso. The throwing of confetti was, of
course, the chief business of the day, in which
I occasionally joined, stationed at a window in
the Rue St Francois-de-Paule. A man, who wore
no wire-mask, and whom, therefore, I had saluted
with a shovelful, grew so angry that he took
up a handful of sand, and threw it at me. This,
of course, was a challenge not to be refused, so
I gave him another dose, whereupon he appealed
to a policeman ; but the latter, knowing that I
had only done what was lawful at Carnival time,
merely shrugged his shoulders. The idiot, who
ought to have stayed at home, if he objected to
be pelted, then invited me to come down and
fight him, in answer to which I took off my
wire mask, filled it as full as it would hold, and
dropped the whole charge down upon him. This
exposed him to so much ridicule from the be
holders, that he sneaked off. It may be a very
q 2

228 ROBA D' ITALIA.
stupid amusement to throw about these confetti,
but it is more stupid still to expect an immunity
from the tricks of popular festivals.
" Si vivis Romas, Romano vivito more ! "
With regard to the car on which was repre
sented the Hunt of King Dagobert, a curious
contretemps happened. The huntsmen had given
a peasant in the neighbourhood of Nice orders to
catch in nets a number of birds, to be placed on
the car, where they were to flutter about. But
bird-catching was just then illegal; the peasant
was caught at the forbidden occupation, and
marched off to prison. Of course the Dagobertians
paid the fine.
As at Rome, so there was a fancy bazaar held
after the Carnival at Nice. The booths were
erected on the square over the Paillon, and
stocked with the rubbish usually displayed on
such occasions. The names of the ladies and
gentlemen who intended to preside at the counters
— I did not know tradesmen "presided" in their
shops — were published in the papers a few days
before the opening day, and when it came, of
course all the High Life of Nice was there. But
the receipts did not answer the expectations of

nice. 229
the originators of the bazaar. Tant mieux! —
these charity bazaars are humbug, as much as
charity dinners.
Nice has several newspapers ; the Pensiero di
Nizza, already mentioned ; the Journal de Nice,
a large daily paper, conducted with considerable
ability; Les Echos de Nice, two-thirds of which
consist of advertisements, being the speculation
of a house-agent, who is also the editor; La
Journal des Etranger s, also the property of a
house-agent, containing mostly advertisements,
with a sprinkling of literary matter; La Saison
de Nice, a large general paper, which had in it,
during my stay at Nice, a series of letters, entitled
' Souvenirs de Voyage.' The author also travels
in England, and his impressions are very favour
able to this country. He sees everything couleur
de rose. The Englishman is especially a worker.
He begins when he is fifteen, and does not leave
off until he has reached extreme old age. Clean
liness is one of his great virtues; the Thames is
scarcely wide enough for the daily ablutions of the
inhabitants of London ; he sticks to business all day,
except a few minutes he devotes at the nearest
tavern to rump-steak and a glass of half-and-half,

230 ROBA D' ITALIA.
In this noble country, signing engagements, or
putting your name to stamped paper, are never heard
of. And so on. The reader will see how gloriously
the Frenchman has mingled fact and imagina
tion. The paper also has its poet's corner, and, from
a very long rhapsody in it, I quote the following
lines. They will show which way the political
wind blows in France, and how well prayer and
cursing can be combined : —
" Toi qui regne aux cieux, Dieu, createur des mondes,
Donne-nous d'immoler au pied de ses murailles,
De ses Prussiens maudits l'autocrate inhumain ! "
Then there is La Vie Mondaine d Nice, a
fashionable journal, printed on green paper, giving
accounts of fashionable entertainments to which
the editor or a reporter has been invited, or the
details of which are sent to him. Thus we read
that " Chez la gracieuse et avenante Mme. Prodgers
il y avait une reunion intime et artistique." But
if Mrs. Prodgers distinguishes herself, Mr. Prod
gers does his part to keep up the family reputa
tion. Mr. Prodgers was brought up to the Church

NICE. 231
of England, and ordained in it; but having no
taste for that sort of thing, and conscious,
probably, that his strength lay in his legs, and
not in his understanding, he left the Church,
and went in for pedestrianism, and similarly
noble pursuits ; and, if we are to judge by the
results, the material advantages to be derived.
from having good legs are in every way superior
to the best preaching power. Who ever heard of
a parson making a thousand pounds, or anything
like it, by delivering a sermon, though powerful
enough to remove mountains ? I suppose even
Mr. Prodgers could not have made half as much
by one of his sermons. But under the heading
"High Life," I read that Mr. Prodgers some
time ago won a large sum of money from Count
Zarazetski by walking from the Promenade des
Anglais to Monte Carlo within a certain time ;
and that Mr. Prodgers had renewed the bet with
Signor De Lewin, to walk there in an hour, the
stakes being twenty thousand francs. Signor De
Lewin undoubtedly has more money than brains,
for how it can matter one farthing to any rational
being — unless he wished to employ Mr. Prodgers
as a running footman — whether he ran there in an

232 ROBA D* ITALIA.
hour or a day, is perfectly unintelligible. Mr.
Prodgers, confident in his powers, no doubt finds
his gains a desirable addition to his gambling
money. So Mr. Prodgers runs and wins. His
arrival, says the Pensiero, at Monte Carlo was
exciting. He was received amidst the applause
of a distinguished company that had come by a
special train from Nice. Then follow the names
of some of the idiots who had so come.
The Journal des Etranger s wrote : — " The
festivities of the week have delayed the appear
ance of our number, or we should have been
among the first to announce the following fact,
which it is impossible for us to pass by in
silence." (Is this a covert sneer at this important
fact?) "Mr. Prodgers," the Journal goes on to
say, "has won a bet even more astounding than
the first. This gentleman betted that he would
go to Monte Carlo in sixty minutes, and he
accomplished the feat, partly on horseback and
partly on foot." The reporter then gives the
name of the horse, and that of the livery-stable
keeper from whom it was hired, all which brings
grist to the publisher's mill, and finishes by saying
that Mr. Prodgers won the bet by arriving a

nice. 233
few minutes before the expiration of the hour.
We are told that " the Lord delighteth not in
any man's legs," but it seems a good many human
beings do delight in them, and pay pretty heavily
for their hobby.
Fancy what a notion of English high life the
Nicjois who read this must have ! A man occu
pying the position of a gentleman, and whose
wife sets up as the leader of ton at Nice, running
for a wager ! No wonder they still believe that
English gentlemen spend the chief part of their
time in boxing with prize-fighters, and setting
their bull-dogs at each other. In England we
generally connect the idea of pedestrianism with
a low roadside public-house, in front of which
some usually idle fellow, dressed in a shabby
guernsey and dirty drawers, performs his silly
task in the presence of a crowd of unmitigated
blackguards. But at Nice pedestrianism forms
part of high life, and gentlemen make money
by it. Though, from what I read in English
papers, even in England it seems to become the
fashion for gentlemen to add to their means by
exhibiting themselves, at very cheap rates, as
jockeys, horsebreakers, polo-players, and so on ;

234 ROBA D' ITALIA.
by-and-by, probably, they will take to acting as
railway-guards, acrobats, or something of that sort.
Italians may well ask, "If this is high life, what
must low life be in England ?"
In one of the most fashionable hosiers' shop-
windows in the Corso at Rome, I saw an
assortment of coloured shirts, with the loudest
patterns, such as are only worn by the lowest
English " gents," marked in large letters as
camicie Inglese, English shirts. Even common
men among the Italians generally wear handsome
white shirts. How they must sneer at English
gentlemen for wearing such pantomime garments!
— for of. course such must be the fashion in
England ; the hosier who imports the article must
know !
Nice being one of the chief resorts of English
and Americans, it is but natural that not only
English wants, but the English language should
be diligently cultivated by the natives. We have
seen that the term of " high life" is quite familiar
to them ; in the Vie Mondaine the expressions
" sport," " refreshment -room," " cloak-room,"
" shooting-ground," &c, are of frequent occur
rence ; the paper even informed its readers that

nice. 235
" Mr. Dennetier, the clerk of the course and
handicaper" (sic), has arrived at Nice; but the
English used by tradespeople is sometimes not
strictly idiomatic. Thus, on one of the pillars
in the Place Massena you may read the announce
ment that Madame Somebody guerit les cors sans
coupure, the English translation of which is thus
painted underneath, " Corn's cure without cut off."
In the catalogue of an upholsterer I found a
"taking to pieces bed," meaning a lit a cUmonter.
In a fashionable watering-place like Nice, where
" All sorts of Fame sit cheek-by-jowl,
Pearls in that string, the table d'hote !
Where dames, whom man has injured, fly
To heal their wounds, or to efface them ;
While others, with the waters, try
A course of flirting, just to brace them ! "
all sorts of celebrities, some of the shady sort
included, are sure to be met with. I have alluded
to one already. I could refer to others, but
delicacy forbids. Besides, such people are not
generally unpleasant companions for an idle half-
hour when lounging in the dining or reading room
of the hotel, and it would, therefore, be ungenerous
to speak of them disparagingly afterwards. So
I will only speak of the way in which the pro*

236 ROBA D' ITALIA.
prietor of one of the largest hotels was taken in
by a distinguished foreigner.
A gentleman, calling himself a Count, stayed
a considerable time at the hotel, faring sumptuously
every day. The bill was presented to him at
the end of the first week ; but he took no notice
of it, — that is, he did not pay it. At the end of
the second week another bill was handed to him,
with the intimation that no credit would be given
beyond the day. The gentleman strolled out of
the hotel, telling the manager that he was going
to his banker's to draw some money; but, instead
of doing that, he went to a wine-merchant's, and,
calling himself a Marquis, and stating that he had
taken a villa at Villefranche, and wished to stock
his cellar, he ordered a large quantity of wines
and spirits. At his request the wine-merchant
made out an invoice, and was told to send the
goods to the hotel where the gentleman was
staying, as the hotel-keeper would pay for and
expedite them to their address. The gentleman-
rogue immediately returned to the hotel, and,
ordering his luggage to be brought down — he
actually had some — he sent the porter for a fly,
and, going up to the manager in his office, said,

nice. 237
— ' ' I have just bought a considerable quantity of
wines and spirits of M. Eauvin, which he will
send here. Will you kindly forward them to me
at Such-and-Such a place ? Here is the invoice " —
to which the customer in the mean time had forged
a receipt— " see that everything is sent. He will
also pay you the amount of the two bills I owe
you with the balance of a thousand-franc note,
which he could not give me at the moment."
The manager allowed the stranger to depart;
but the proprietor, who came in soon after, was
not so easy about the matter — especially as he saw
that on the invoice his late guest was called a
Marquis, while at the hotel he passed as a Count.
He, therefore, went to M. Eauvin, whom he knew,
and, showing him the invoice, asked for a con
firmation of the tale attached to it. The wine-
merchant, of course, immediately declared his
signature to the receipt to be a forgery; and
when he further stated that he expected to be
paid by the hotel-keeper for his goods, they both
knew they had been swindled — the wine-merchant
only out of the anticipated profit on the order,
the hotel-keeper out of a fortnight's board and
lodging,

238 ROBA D' ITALIA.
A good joke was played by a thief who had
been put for the night in the lock-up at Ville-
franche. Taking some of the straw in the palliasse,
he, by means of a lucifer he had concealed about
his person, set it on fire, and gradually burnt
away all the wood round the lock of the door,
until he was able to remove it, and make his
escape. When the gens-d'armes came in the
morning to take him before the magistrate, they
found that he had saved them the trouble by
taking French leave, or la clef des champs, leaving
them the lock.
But talking of this prisoner reminds me of a
more famous one, who, for a time, took up his
compulsory abode in the vicinity of Nice, — Marshal
Bazaine, condemned to imprisonment for life on
the island of Sta Margherita. He had his family
with him, and was not . kept in very strict
confinement, as subsequent events proved. Even
during the trial at the Grand Trianon he had
much liberty allowed him. "In fact," said the
man who, on my last visit to Versailles, showed
me over the building, " the trial was a farce,
got up to satisfy the clamours of a clique."
The Marshal's prison was not a disagreeable one.

nice. 239
Situate in a beautiful climate, the island of Sta
Margherita forms part of the Lerine group, situate
off Cannes, between Cape Rosso and Cape della
Garopa. The group consists of two islands,
Sta Margherita and S. Onorato, divided by a
channel about one-third of a mile broad, and
a few uninhabited islets, the chief of which is
called S. Ferreol. The island of Sta Margherita,
the largest of the group, and the nearest to the
mainland, is of oval form, with a coast line of
between three and four miles. To the east it is
covered with a pine forest. There is a telegraph-
station on the island. A fort of third order crowns
a high hill to the north, at the point called Delia
Crocetta. This fort was erected by Richelieu,
and afterwards repaired on the principles of
Vauban. It repeatedly was used as a State
prison. The famous prisoner in the Iron Mask
lived on this island, and they "show you the room
in which he was imprisoned seventeen years. It
is square, and without furniture ; a casement,
whose inward opening is about a square yard,
but which contracts outwardly, gives light to
the chamber. To look out it is necessary to
crawl through the whole length of this kind of

240 ROBA D' ITALIA.
stone funnel. From the window Cannes may
be seen. Lagrange Chancel, the author of the
1 Philippiques,' was detained in this fort. So also
Monsignor Broglie, Bishop of Gand, uncle of the
present minister. About half-a-mile to the south
east of the fort there is a locality called the
Garden, which is the only portion of the island
that is not State property. In the centre of this
large garden may be seen a square building, in
a nondescript style, dating, it is said, from the
twelfth century, and surmounted by a platform,
whose purpose is unknown. At the east point
of the island is the redoubt De la Convention.
Nice, like other resorts of fashion, of course
could not get on without races. This is a sub
ject I take not the slightest interest in, and do
not even deem worthy of being written about,
I only mention it because it brought out of
remote coachyards the queerest assortment of
old, battered, ramshackle vehicles ever displayed
before the eyes of an astounded world. There
was a glass case on wheels, resembling an in
cipient omnibus; the woodwork was so ricketty,
that it seemed a wonder it held together; half
the windows were broken ; as it moved along,

NICE. 241
it oscillated from side to side, because the wheels,
as they turned round, laterally described all sorts
of geometrical curves. How many passengers the
machine was intended to hold was a problem,
for it was too long for two, and too short for
three; but as all the proprietors of public con
veyances, the London Omnibus Company included,
look upon the members of the public as so many
herrings to be packed as closely as possible, the
probability was that each side was intended to
hold four victims. And as there were three
horses, whose harness seemed to have been collected.
together in ragshops, no doubt more than eight
passengers were counted upon, viz., two more on
the box, and the rest sprawling on the top, as there
was no knife-board. There might also be seen an
old family coach, in the last stage of decay; the
wooden blocks of the brake, having long since been
worn away, were replaced by a pair of old
shoes, one being tied with string to each ex
tremity of the iron bar ! There was quite a
procession of such elegant carriages, and great
was the laughter they excited, as they made
their appearance on the Promenade, their drivers
touting for passengers to the races. The first
VOL. II, R

242 ROBA D' ITALIA.
man who got into one of them certainly was
a moral hero; I did not see him.
There are three theatres at Nice — the Italian
Opera, the Theatre Francais, and the Folies
Nicoises. The latter is something of a music-hall,
though admission to the best front seats is, com
paratively speaking, high, viz., three francs. It
is a capital place to go in for an hour or two,
when you don't want to have the trouble of
dressing, and want to smoke a cigar. Capital
pantomimes, that make you split with laughter,
are given there.
I left Nice at the beginning of March to re
enter Italy once more, by way of Genoa, but
stopped a week or so at Monaco.

SECTION IX.

FROM NICE TO GENOA.

R 2

SECTION" IX.

FROM NICE TO GENOA.
Beauty of Monaco — Monte Carlo — M. Blanc and the Prince of
Monaco — Reflections on Gambling — A Man pretending to
commit Suicide — The Dove a Sacred Bird at Monaco — Legend
of Santa Deivota — Her Festival — Pigeon Shooting — Jesuits'
College at Monaco — Bronze Cannons — Position of Prince of
Monaco — Petite Maison in the Rue de Lorraine — Grotto of
La Vieille, and its Mysterious Occupant — Sanctuary of Laghet
— Village and Castle of Roquebrune — Beautiful Cave discovered
near Mondovi.

246 ROBA D* ITALIA.

FROM NICE TO GENOA.
The scenery around Monaco, as everybody who
has seen it must admit, is most beautiful; the
spot has by nature been made a very Paradise,
but man has turned it into a "Paradise Lost,"
as it has wittily, yet truly, been said. If some
modern Milton would write a poem on it, he
might perhaps entitle it, ' Pair o' Dice Lost.'
And certainly the name Monaco — monk — now
seems most incongruous, unless we say that the
devotees who flock to the temple set up by M.
Blanc still come to a shrine to worship, not the
Virgin Mary, or some grizzly saint, but the
goddess Fortune, and are quite as ardent, and
probably more so in their devotion than more
serious pilgrims.
The gambling tables, to which allusion is made
here, are not in the town of Monaco itself, but
on the hill opposite, called Monte Carlo, in
honour of the reigning Prince of Monaco ; though

PROM NICE TO GENOA. 247
it ought more properly to be called Monte Bianco
— Mont Blanc — for it is the proprietor of the
tables who has made it what it is, who has built
the Casino, laid out and planted the gardens,
constructed the roads leading to them, and, who,
in fact, is the real Prince of Monaco; for the
nominal Prince's income is nearly all derived
from the Frenchman's pocket, who takes it out
of the pockets of ' the visitors, who lose their
money at his tables. M. Blanc pays the Prince,
for the privilege of keeping the gambling-house
at Monte Carlo, the annual sum of £8,000, main
tains his army of 200 men, carries on all sorts
of improvements in the place, supports several
charities; in fact, keeps the whole place, for he
brings all the business there is in the prin
cipality, and the inhabitants pay no taxes at
all, as M. Blanc again comes between them and
the local government. It will thus be seen that
he may be called the Providence of Monaco,
though that implies that he is something totally
different to the victims that fall into his power
at Monte Carlo ; but la Providence cles chats
nest pas la Providence des souris. Considering
the large sums he has to expend at Monaco,

248 ROBA D' ITALIA.
and the money required for keeping up his
business and private establishments respectively
at Monte Carlo, it may easily be surmised by
any one going to play there, that the chances
must of course be very much more in favour
of M. Blanc than of the public.
But as, in going . to war, every soldier flatters
himself with the hope that he will escape the
hostile bullet or sabre cut, so in "trying his
luck" at Monaco, every player thinks he will
win ; but, as a rule, he loses. I, who had no
hope of winning, played a little just for the fun
of the thing, and, quite contrary to my expecta
tions — for at Homburg, Wiesbaden, and Baden-
Baden, where I had also staked my coin, I had
always lost — began to win. Of course this led me
on; I won more, but eventually lost it all again.
This was intolerable, but, considering my luck
gone for that evening, I waited till the next,
and then began again, and, as my object was
not to win any large amount, but only to regain
what I had lost, and something more, I played
cautiously, and staking but a napoleon at the
time, always putting it on two rows of three
numbers each of the roulette-table, where, if you

FROM NICE TO GENOA. 249
win, your stake is quintupled; and the numbers
to which I stuck were the last six. In spite of
occasional losses, I had in about twenty minutes
won some thirty napoleons, when I ceased play
ing, leaving M. Blanc minus that sum, so that
I did not contribute much to the maintenance
of Monaco's princes, real and nominal.
To look at some players — and frequently all the
five tables, three for roulette and two for trente-
et-quarante, are fully occupied — one would think
they were engaged in the most indifferent manner,
while, in reality, the napoleons drop from the
hands of some like drops of blood on to the table,
that cauldron where souls are being boiled in
hellish fire. But it is only on rare occasions
that any " difficulty" occurs, and sometimes people
take advantage of M. Blanc's well-known repug
nance to any public scandal, and speculate on
it. Whilst I was staying at Nice, a courier, or
some such individual, who had lost fifty or sixty
francs, took it into his head that it would be a
good spec, to play at suicide, as it would draw
a good round sum from the proprietor of the tables.
The courier, therefore, on a day when the Casino
was full of visitors, pretended to shoot himself in

250 ROBA D' ITALIA.
the adjoining gardens, but inflicted a much more
severe wound, in his side, than he had intended.
Of course, he was taken up, carried to a hotel,
and M. Blanc did pay for his keep and cure, and
that was all obtained from him by the trick, though
some foolish people subscribed a hundred francs or so
to be given to the poor fellow, who bragged that he
had lost a large fortune at trente-et-quarante, though
it was conclusively shown that he never possessed
one, and had never been anything above a valet.
I will not here discuss the question whether such
establishments as that of Monte Carlo ought to be
allowed to exist ; I have heard people who gamble
on the Stock Exchange, and others who bet on
horse-races, speak with virtuous indignation against
them. I suppose they ought to know ; I am
indifferent on the subject, and so say nothing.
Only, I fancy you may gamble, and yet remain
a man of refined mind and tender feelings, just as
you may drink wine without becoming a drunkard ;
but I cannot think thus concerning another amuse
ment indulged in at Monte Carlo — an amusement
to my mind so barbarous, so stupid, as to be fit
only for thoroughly brutalized savages. I allude
to pigeon shooting and pigeon matches. But what

erom Nice to Genoa. 251
avails it to say anything against the brutal sport?
Did not the Times years ago write a stinging leading
article against it ? And does the same journal not,
on every occasion when it is practised, give a long
account of the proceedings, heading it in large
type with "Grand Pigeon Match"? "Grand,"
indeed ! The use made of that term is sickening.
When two idle pot-house companions walk a mile
or two against each other, it is a " Grand Pedes
trian Contest" ; when — but why multiply instances ?
Look in Bell's Life, and marvel at the "grand"
doings going on in all directions, including Free
masonry, whose proceedings are all " grand," and
in which every member is a " Grand" something,
if he is not an " Illustrious," or a " Most Puissant."
However, to come back to pigeon shooting.
Monaco, above all other places, ought to have been
sacred from such profanation, for was it not a dove
that gave the inhabitants of the principality their
patron saint ? Santa Deivota was a native of
Corsica, and perished there during the persecution
of the Christians. The body of the martyr was found
on the sea-shore by two anchorites, who placed
it on board a fishing-bark in the hope of reaching
the distant shore, where S. Augustin was then

252 ROBA D* ITALIA.
preaching. But the night came, no star was to be
seen, the frail boat was tossed about at the mercy of
the waves, and the pilot lost his reckoning, and was
literally and figuratively at sea. Suddenly a white
dove, whose plumage shone with celestial light,
appeared right ahead. " Behold the soul of Santa
Deivota ! " exclaimed the pious fishermen, " let us
follow it I " It led them to the small cove then
running into the now dry ravine, in which at
present stands the chapel of the saint, and there a
mysterious voice — probably that of the dove, for
in ancient times doves had the power of speech,
besides possessing another accomplishment or two,
for which modern doves must envy their ancestors —
told them to deposit the body and erect a chapel
over it, and that thenceforth the saint would take
the locality under her especial protection. The
chapel, which was going to decay, has recently
been restored, and a very coarsely executed bas-
relief over the door shows the boat drawn by the
pigeon. A small villa close to the chapel — which, by-the-
bye, forms a very picturesque object in the fore
ground of the narrow ravine, overtopped by the
high viaduct of the railway — has a white dove over

FROM NICE TO GENOA. 253
the doorway, and is called Villa de la Colombe.
M^ry, the French poet, used to spend his winters
there, and wrote a very pretty poem on the trans
lation of the saint's remains. The festival of
Santa Deivota is held on the 27th of January ;
a procession descends from the parish church to
the chapel in the valley, where a commemorative
service is performed. The Prince and his family
usually attend. As the saint was said to have been
a native of Corsica, Paoli, the general of Corsican
independence, to stimulate the zeal of his followers,
founded in 1757 the chivalrous Order of Santa
Deivota ; but the non -success of the national
struggle caused the order to collapse.
Seeing, then, that the dove is justly held in
such estimation by the people of Monaco, it
certainly seems an insult to their feelings on
that very spot to make pigeons the victims of an
idiotic and cruel amusement. But the same
people, who crowd to the chapel on the saint's
anniversary, may be seen leaning over the parapet
above the shooting ground, and watching with
intense interest the agony of the poor birds, as
with maimed wings they roll about on the turf,
and in their dying struggle endeavour to escape

254 ROBA D' ITALIA.
from the jaws of the merciless dog who fetches
them in. I saw with great satisfaction that about
half the birds escaped. But exactly like human
pigeons, instead of flying from the spot of danger,
they hover round it and are caught again, to be
shot at afresh, and finally killed.
Looking across the port of Monaco, there is
seen, where the peninsula is connected with the
land, the castle of the Prince. Close to the other
end, the promontory projecting into the sea,
another large building appears. This is a monu
ment of the piety of the Prince, for he is eminently
pious, and with the gentleness of the dove
combines the cunning of the serpent, by beating
the Devil with his own weapons. The Prince
has wisely and piously assigned some of the
wealth he draws from the hell opposite to the
establishment and maintenance of a counterpoise
to the infernal powers on the other side, in the
shape of a Jesuits' College, the large building
just referred to. It originally was the Convent
of the Visitation, founded in 1673. At the epoch
of the French Revolution, the nuns of St Francis
de Sales abandoned it. From 1816 to 1860 the
Piedmontese troops used it as their barracks. In

FROM NICE TO GENOA. 255
1862, Prince Charles III. placed it at the disposal
of the Jesuits, who had been driven out of Italy.
And the holy (!) fathers have already made good
use of their time and opportunity, and Monaco
is become quite a stronghold of the diabolical
fraternity. And so the pious Prince, by this
clever dodge, can always play off the College
against the Casino, or vice versd, as circum
stances may require or expediency dictate. But
evidently he means to be on the safe side, for
he has also largely contributed, out of his own
pocket, towards the re-building of the parish
church of St Nicholas, which has recently been
taken down.
I had no chance of seeing the interior of the
Palace, because the Prince was then staying
there. However, I saw his army drawn up on
the large open space in front of the Palace.
The uniform is smart, and the men, chiefly
Italians, French, and Belgians, are a fine-looking
set. Still, the whole reminds you of a review
of the Brook Green Volunteers. On a terrace to
the right of the Palace are some handsome bronze
cannons, presented to the Princes of Monaco by
Louis XIV. They all bear the appropriate in-

256 ROBA D' ITALIA.
scription, Ultima ratio regum. On the opposite
terrace, facing the port, are piles of cannon-
balls, the true Howlaway pills, one of which,
properly taken, at once and for ever cures the
body of any ailment, of however long a standing,
or however severe. For testimonials as to efficacy,
apply to History. Supplied by any Govern
ment. \|
Setting aside the want of dignity implied in
the fact that the greater portion of his revenue
is derived from a gambling-house, the position
of the Prince of Monaco seems to me rather an
enviable one. A sovereign prince, subject to no
superior jurisdiction, and yet without great poli
tical cares or responsibilities; the possessor of a
large income, and a territory, small but compact,
situate in one of the most favoured climes in
the world, where the richest exotic vegetation
flourishes in an eternal spring; an enchanted
spot, comprising the most lovely scenery imagin
able ; fertile, within easy reach of all the centres
of civilization; the resort of men most distin
guished for rank or intellect; — this is a position
which seems to have but two drawbacks, the
one already referred to, the origin of the income,

FROM NICE TO GENOA. 257
and the other, the permanent apprehension, in
separable from it, of being within calculable time
absorbed by either France or Italy.
In the Middle Ages, Monaco was a far more
important State than now, and its princes had
influential connexions, by matrimonial alliances
with the reigning houses of, and the possession
of fiefs in, many European countries. But
gradually they lost their dignities and possessions.
The French Revolution deprived them even of
Monaco, turning its ancient palace, first into a
military hospital, and then into an asylum for
vagrants and beggars. The Restoration gave
them back Monaco, Mentone, and Roquebrune,
but these latter two have recently been ceded
to France. When will it come to the turn of
Monaco itself?
Opposite to the Jesuits' College, at the end of
the Rue de Lorraine, there is a small garden, in
which stands a pretty villa. The garden and
villa were laid out and constructed for Marie de
Lorraine, the wife of Prince Antoine L, who
retired thither, calling it her Desert, by which
name it is still known. Chroniclers say that
Marie de Lorraine had many wrongs to reproach
VOL. II. s

258 ROBA D' ITALIA.
herself with; but there is something to be said
on her side. Not twenty paces from the Desert,
in the Rue des Brigues, is another little garden
and villa, called the Giardinetto, a coquettish,
cosy retreat, a genuine petite maison, delicately
and luxuriously fitted up ; and this charming
bower of love had been built by Antoine for
some charming Monegascan Rosalind. Hence the
opposition Retreat on the other side of the way.
But it must have been galling to the Princess
to be compelled to be so near her rival. Here
was one of the inconveniences of a restricted
territory, and the Prince must have had some
difficulty, and needed clever manoeuvring, to
keep the two ladies apart. However, if it gave
him trouble, it served him right. I am neither
what is conventionally called religious nor a
purist ; but I do think that when a man marries,
he is bound to be satisfied with his wife, unless
she be a devil. He ought even to be able to
do without his Club and male parties. And if
he must have forbidden fruit, no gentleman will
add insult to injury by openly buying a hand
some dish for it, and parading both before the
wronged wife.

FROM NICE TO GENOA. 259
At the base of the promontory La Vieille —
which ought, correctly speaking, to be called La
Veille, from the Latin vigilia, a watch-tower, the
ruins of which may still be seen — is a large grotto.
There is a tradition that when the Duke of York
came to die in the Palace of Monaco, a yacht,
which had followed the Prince's vessel, arrived
at the grotto; a beautiful young lady descended
into it, and the yacht sailed away. During
the Duke's illness a white phantom was seen
hovering about the entrance of the cave. But
from the day that the English vessel in the port
hoisted the signal of death, the apparition vanished
for ever. Who was the mysterious lady ?
How great is the influx of strangers at Monaco,
may be inferred from the fact that, according to
the official account, twenty-two thousand, five
hundred and sixteen had visited the place during
the month of February ; when I arrived there in
March, it was with the greatest difficulty I found
a room at an hotel.
In the neighbourhood of Monaco is the sanctuary
of Laghet, a famous place of pilgrimage, said to
have been founded by the gratitude for "mercies
received" many centuries ago, by some of the
s 2

260 ROBA D' ITALIA.
inhabitants of the Principality. As the church
wanted repairing, sermons were preached and
collections made in its behalf, and the Journal de
Monaco — for the town has its paper, not badly
got up — mentioned with great satisfaction how
even poor cottagers and common labourers had
contributed their mite — the priests everywhere
robbing the poor and ignorant !
The village of Roquebrune, which may be
seen from Monaco, is remarkable chiefly for its
position, perched as it is on a high rock, to which
you ascend by long zig-zags. The still con
siderable ruins of a castle command the village,
whose streets are stairs, and so narrow as to
be impracticable, even if their steepness were less,
for vehicles of any kind. The view from the
topmost terrace of the castle ruin is magnificent.
In making the ascent you will be accompanied
by half the juvenile population of the place, and
you had better provide yourself with plenty of
coppers, for by the time you descend, every one
of your corte" ge will have rendered himself entitled
to your gratitude — one youngster by pointing out
a short cut, which saves you two steps, but robs
you of a fine prospect ; another by drawing your

FROM NICE TO GENOA. 261
attention to a loop-hole, and telling you that
through there they used to throw the cannon-balls ;
a third by howling down a well; and the fourth
by asking you to listen to the echo. Of course,
you need not give anything, if you are not of
a giving disposition; and I confess that in such
cases I myself never give anything — in fact, I
would rather give something if the bores stayed
away. Children are a nuisance at any time and in
any place ; to have a crowd of dirty ragamuffins
at your heels, when you want to enjoy a fine
prospect or admire an architectural work, is an
infliction, which brings home to your mind the
conviction that Herod was a benefactor to his
generation. The Corniche road is so well known, that no
description of it is here needed ; but for the
information of the curious in such matters — and
I am one of them — I may mention, that recently
a cave was discovered in the valley of Corsaglia,
near Mondovi ; it consists of several contiguous
halls, adorned with large and beautifully formed
stalactites ; several small brooks run through the
cavern, expanding here and there into miniature
lakes. The air throughout is very good.

SECTION X.

GENOA.

SECTION X.

GENOA.
Holy Ground — Columbus Born at Cogoleto — Made Proposals first
to Genoa — What Genoa would have Gained if America had
been Discovered under her Auspices — Relics and Memorials of
Columbus — The Genovese mere Merchants — Ostentation and
Meanness of Doge Andreas Doria — Relics in the Municipal
Palace — Fine Palaces — The Cathedral — The San Graal.

266 ROBA d' ITALIA.

GENOA.
Take off your shoes, for this is holy ground ! con
secrated to the memory of Christopher Columbus,
concerning whom you will find in Bradshaw's
' Continental Guide ' the somewhat puzzling re
mark, "A man closely connected with the dawn
of American greatness." What notions about
Columbus the writer of these words may have
had, it would be difficult to surmise. If it be
possible to imagine the existence of any civilized
human being ignorant of what Columbus did do,
would the above-quoted statement lead him to
think that the "Admiral" actually discovered
America ? I trow not. So the sooner that passage
is expunged from Bradshaw, the better for its
literary reputation.
Celumbus was not born at Genoa, but at Cogo
leto, a small town at a short distance west of
Genoa, where a portrait of the Admiral, a votive
tablet to his memory, and the house in which

GENOA. 267
he is said to have been born, are still shown.
Whole volumes have been written for and against
the authenticity of these memorials, but the
arguments certainly preponderate in favour of
Cogoleto. This is not the place to discuss the
question, nor is it of much importance to any
but the persons more immediately connected or
claiming connexion with the origin of the dis
coverer. The actual place of his birth is a mere
matter of curiosity; and how grave historians
can waste so much time and ingenuity in their
attempts to solve questions which, if solved,
would not increase our stores of real know
ledge, has always appeared to me a subject of
wonder and regret.
Genoa had the first chance of benefiting by
the genius of her son ; to this city Columbus,
before applying to any other Government, pro
posed the enterprise which resulted in the
discovery of a new world. And the proposal
came at a time when Genoa ought to have
been most anxious to accept it, for her great
ness was already on the decline. The growing
importance of Venice, which became the formid
able rival and foe of Genoa, the fierce civil war

268 ROBA D' ITALIA.
between aristocracy and democracy which raged
in the Ligurian Republic, the loss of her eastern
and western possessions, and of the monopoly
of the Black Sea trade, in consequence of the
conquest of Constantinople by Mahomet II. , — all
these causes combined had nearly ruined the
commerce of Genoa; it received its final blow
by Vasco da Gama's circumnavigation of the
Cape of Good Hope, who thus opened an
eastern maritime route to India, which gave
an entirely new direction to eastern commerce.
Had Columbus discovered America for the
Genoese, what might Genoa not have become?
Justly the city is called La Superba for the
multiplicity and splendour of its palaces ; with
the treasures of the new continent at its com-
mand, it would probably have surpassed even
ancient Rome.
Now, of course, the city of Genoa is very
proud of its territory having given birth to
Columbus, and carefully preserves whatever it
may be able to collect in the way of relics of
its illustrious citizen. In the Palazzo del Muni
cipio, or Town Hall, formerly the Palazzo Doria-
Tursi, there are enclosed in a marble shrine, with

GENOA. 269
a gilt door, three autograph letters of Columbus,
of no importance in themselves, which formerly
were shown to visitors; but since a lady tore
off a corner of one of them as a keepsake, they
have been photographed, and the copies are hung
up in one of the halls of the building, while
the originals are kept locked up. There are
also several portraits of Columbus, but none of
them is authentic. The fresco on the ceiling of
the great hall represents Columbus giving an
account of his first voyage to Ferdinand and
Isabella. The discoverer is represented standing,
which is contrary to historical truth, for he was
allowed to be seated in the presence of the king
and queen, which was considered a great honour,
— as if the gloomy and bigoted tyrant Ferdinand
could have conferred any honour on a man like
Columbus !
From the window in the Hotel di Londra, at
which I am now writing, I can see just opposite
one of the only two external mementoes of the
glorious Genoese which till within a few years
existed at Genoa — a small palace, having on its
front, facing the railway station, a pediment repre
senting the discovery of America as a triumphal

270 ROBA D' ITALIA.
march of Columbus, with the simple inscription,
"Cristoforo Colombo Genovese scopre 1' America."
On looking out of the window, I can see to the
right the beautiful marble monument erected to
Columbus in 1862, and inaugurated on the 12th
of October, the anniversary of his return from the
discovery. The great Italian is represented lean
ing on an anchor; at his feet is a female figure
typifying America. Four other female statues at
the angles symbolize Religion, Science, Strength,
and Wisdom. The bas-reliefs recall events from
the life of Columbus — the exposition of his scheme
before the University of Salamanca, his landing
in America, his pleading before Ferdinand and
Isabella for the oppressed Indians, and his embark
ing, a chained prisoner, for Europe. In a niche
in the facade of a wine-shop in the Via Carlo
Alberto, just opposite the arsenal, where the
mighty Genoese galleys used to be built, is a statue
of Columbus, with the inscription underneath, —
" Dissi, volli, il creai, ecco un secondo sorger
nuovo dall' onde ignoto mondo." Above the
statue is a frieze, referring to the discovery of
the New World.
The connexion of Columbus with Genoa throws

GENOA. 271
a kind of halo around the city, and is about the
only circumstance that invests it, for the traveller
of superior intellect, with any interest above
what the mere display of great wealth may
inspire. Genoa in this respect is far inferior to
Venice, which, although it likewise owed its
importance to successful commerce, yet is rich
in the poetic elements and records of great deeds
and gigantic enterprises. Venice was, and is,
and ever will be —
"  a fairy city of the heart."
But Genoa never rose above, and never will be
anything but a great trading emporium ; and,
in fact, never aspired to more, if we are to go
by the motto of the Compagnia Commerciale
Italiana di Genova, which runs, — " Genuensis, ergo
mercator." At the present time it has, as it ever
had, the characteristic features of a very active
commercial port; everywhere mere material
interests stare you in the face, which is not the
case in Venice, Rome, or Naples.
I do not deny that its palaces are magnificent
structures, that there are a great many of them,
— more than the traveller making but a short
stay ever sees? for some of them are hid away

272 ROBA D' ITALIA.
in out-of-the-way corners, — and that some of them
contain great treasures of art; that the city
boasts of several fine churches, the cathedral
being undoubtedly an interesting structure; and
that the total aspect of Genoa, when seen from
the sea, is grandly impressive, and almost as
beautiful as Naples; but, as I said before, all
the ideas it calls up have reference to trade;
and the Doge of Genoa reminds us of nothing
so much as of a rich drysalter or tallow-chandler
become Lord Mayor.
Even when one of "these Doges did things in
a splendid style, the huckstering spirit could not
be restrained. When Andreas Doria entertained
Charles V. at his palace outside the gate St
Thomas, he caused — to the Emperor's astonish
ment — all the gold and silver plate that had
figured on the table to be cast into the sea,
saying that after it had served the Emperor it
should not be put to meaner use. But the latter
did not know that, by Doria's orders, a strong
net had previously' been spread at the bottom
of the shallow spot, by means of which the trea
sures were all recovered again after the Emperor's
departure.

GENOA. 273
In the Palazzo del Municipio there is also
preserved the violin of Paganini, for which as
much as thirty-five thousand francs have been
offered by the descendants of the famous musician.
Some of the flags of Garibaldi decorate the walls
of the council chamber, and in the courtyard
below stands the marble statue of Mazzini. The
building itself is one of the grandest of Genoa.
As I mentioned before, it originally belonged to
the Duke of Doria-Tursi, and was afterwards
turned into a Jesuits' College. The holy fathers
always took care to appropriate to themselves the
finest buildings; at Milan they occupied the
Brera, at Naples the building now known as
the University, and so on.
However, let us give the Genoese their due.
It is certainly a pleasure to walk through their
streets, commonly well paved, between palaces
either covered with frescoes, marble, or sculpture ;
to look into the halls, always open to the public,
where white marble steps and columns are relieved
by the lively green of orange trees, and the air
is musical with the splashing of fountains. Most
of the buildings are enormously high. In the
grand palaces the first floor is at about the
VOL. II, T

274 ROBA D' ITALIA.
height of the third floor in a good-sized London
house. In the large hotels facing the port, all
ancient palaces, the second is the principal floor,
as from there alone you obtain a view of the
port, — there being a terrace, its parapet and floor
of white marble, all round the port ; and on this
floor the apartments are vast halls, from thirty
to forty feet high, the walls and ceilings covered
with fresco painting. Throughout the town the
balconies of most houses are of white marble ;
sometimes the whole front is of the same costly
material. The cathedral is built in courses of white and
black marble alternating ; its facade is very rich,
displaying the Byzantine, mediaeval Italian, and
modern Greek styles. Behind the high altar in
the chapel of St John is a small sarcophagus,
containing the ashes of St John the Baptist. What
Roman Catholic church would be perfect without
some such relic ? No female dare enter this spot,
because the saint lost his head through a woman,
except the ladies of the Campanari family, who
have the privilege of receiving their nuptial bene
diction there, on account of that family having
founded the chapel. The sacristan who showed

GENOA. 275
me over the church told me that when, some
time ago, he prevented a lady from entering the
chapel, and told her the reason, she observed
it was very strange that men were allowed to
enter any church or chapel dedicated to Christ,
since men had put him to death. The argument
was fair ; but ecclesiastical affairs are not generally
managed according to reason or justice.
In the sacristy you will be shown the San
Graal ; but you have to procure a special per
mission from the Municipality to see the precious
relic, which is said, " by authority," to be cut
out of a gigantic emerald, though the ungodly
French, who, during the rule of the first Napoleon,
had carried it to Paris, where it was chemically
tested, declared it to be only green glass. As
I deem it rather too high a compliment to pay
to knavery and superstition to apply for a per
mission to see an ordinary glass vessel, and, in
the bargain, to be thought idiotic enough to believe
the ridiculous legends attached to it, I did not
obtain the permission, and, therefore, did not see
the San Graal. And the civic authorities, that
by such a regulation encourage a belief in nursery
tales, are yet considerably behind the age, T 9

SECTION XI.

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE.

SECTION XI.

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE.
Casualties to Steamers — Disagreeable Passage to Leghorn — Extor
tions at Hotels — Pisa and its Curiosities — Dome of Florence-
Campanile — Baptistery — Preaching Friar — Fraternita della
Misericordia — Sta Maria Novella — Laura's Portrait — Victims
of the Inquisition — The Venus de' Medici — Statues like the
Wrestlers and Whetter not Artistic — The Venus of the Capitol
— Beautiful Views— La Gazza Ladra — Massiveness of Archi
tecture — Anniversary of King of Italy's Accession — Crowd on
the Piazza — Statue of David — Pleasure of Florentines in
Representation of Scenes of Violence — Cellini's Perseus —
Strange Scene on the Piazza — The Pitti Palace — Murders
Committed therein — Eleanor of Toledo — Isabella de' Medici — •
Boboli Gardens — Potatoes first Cultivated therein — The
Viennese Orchestra of Ladies at Florence — Rude Conduct of
the Audience — Inscription on Amerigo Vespucci's House.

280 ROBA D} ITALIA.

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE.
The writer of a letter inserted in the Times of
March 18, 1874, on "Casualties to Steamers,"
attributes the loss of a great many steamers to
their build, they being long and narrow, a form
particularly dangerous in a rough sea and on a
lee shore. I believe he is right. In going by
sea from Genoa to Leghorn, about a week before
that letter was sent to the Times, the ship
"Ancona," belonging to Peirano, Danovaro &
Co., in which, to my vexation, I had to go, as
there was just then no other, — and the reader
will remember that from my Civita Vecchia ex
perience I bear the owners no good will, — rolled
about so fearfully, that I and other passengers
thought on several occasions we must go over.
Now the "Ancona" is a long and disproportion
ately narrow ship; and though about the middle
of the passage you are at some distance from
the shore, yet during the greater part of the ten -

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE. 28 i
hours it takes to reach your destination, you are
close enough to the coast to be affected by the
cross seas generally prevailing there. Persons,
therefore, who object to a rolling ship, had better
avoid the "Ancona."
Another thing you ought to avoid, if you can,
is the Hotel "Vittoria and Washington" at
Leghorn ; at least, if you have any luggage, for
on leaving you will be besieged by a whole host
of harpies, all clamorous for some reward for
imaginary services rendered. Twice it was my
misfortune to have to stop at that hotel, each
time for a few hours only, — once when coming
from Naples, and again on the present occasion,
when coming from Genoa. As in both instances
I went on by rail, I had to take my luggage on
shore; and as the "Vittoria and Washington" is
nearest to the landing-place, I went there, depo
siting my luggage in the hall, whilst I took some
breakfast. On leaving for the station, the com
missionnaire who had come to the landing-place
to. catch passengers, the facchino at the hotel,
who had put my luggage in the hall, and the
porter, who had sat looking at it, all came to
the carriage for their black mail. Of course,

282 ROBA D' ITALIA.
the waiter who had brought my breakfast, and
the chambermaid who had supplied the water for
washing my hands, had also to be satisfied. So,
with the reward of virtue paid to the porters
who had brought my luggage to the hotel, the
money thus extorted from the traveller for trifling
services, which ought to be paid for by the hotel-
keeper, comes to a pretty stiffish sum, which
you disburse with the more regret, because you
feel it to be an extortion.
But let me hasten to more pleasing subjects.
From Leghorn, which has not one single object
to detain the traveller or attract his attention,
I went to Pisa, and there stopped a second time,
once more to admire the quartette of architectural
beauties collected on one spot,— the Cathedral,
Baptistery, Leaning Tower, and Campo Santo, with
earth brought by the fleet of Pisa from the Holy
Land, on its return from the Crusade of the
Emperor Frederick I. The reader will remember
that I had seen them before, on my way from
Naples to Venice. But I now beheld them with
renewed pleasure, for a thing of beauty is, indeed,
a joy for ever. Their description will be found
in any guide-book of Italy.

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE. 283
Nothing strikes you more at Pisa than the
desolate appearance of its streets, and the forlorn
look of many a grand palace, with few or no
inmates. Yet Pisa once was the rival of Venice
and Genoa, the mistress of Sardinia, Corsica, and
a great part of Sicily. Supported by the Papal
party, the Guelphs, Ugolino attempted to make
himself master of Pisa ; but the inhabitants seized
him and his three sons, and imprisoned them in
a tower, where they were starved to death. I
made diligent inquiry, as many other travellers
have done before me, to ascertain the site of this
Hunger-Tower, as it was called, which seems to
have stood in a public square, but no one could
tell me anything about it; it has altogether
disappeared, and even its situation is matter of
dispute. Perhaps Ugolino himself would be for
gotten, had not Dante immortalized him in the
' Inferno.' Pisa, after many struggles, had to
submit to the Medici of Florence, and thus became
a Tuscan city.
From Pisa to Florence is but a short journey.
On my way to Rome, more than a year before, I
had merely passed through the latter city, but now
I was anxious to see it for many reasons, but chiefly

284 ROBA D5 ITALIA.
that I might look at the Venus de' Medici, which
hitherto I only knew from photographs, to com
pare her with the Capitoline Venus, which statue
I considered the finer of the two. But let me
not anticipate.
My first visit after my arrival at Florence, the
" City of Flowers," was to its wonderful dome,
appropriately dedicated to Sta Maria del Fiore.
But I must confess I cannot altogether admire
the style in which the outer walls of the building
are cased in marble ; there is something bizarre,
or rather baroque, in this variegated covering,
reminding me very much — oh, for shame ! — of a
harlequin's dress. Still, the effect may be called
rich, and you are the more disappointed, on enter
ing the church, to find it almost bare, especially if
you compare it with the cathedrals of Rome,
Venice, or even small Pisa. The cupola, erected
by Brunelleschi, who demonstrated the possibility
of building it by setting an egg with its large
end knocked in before the Signoria, served as a
pattern to Michael Angelo for the dome of
S. Peter's, who is reported to have said, — " Vado
a Roma, per far la tua sorella, piu grande, si, ma
non di te piu bella." As in the Roman Basilica,

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE. 285
so there are here plenty of relics, including a
genuine nail from the Cross, and a thorn from
Jesus's martyr crown.
As I was strolling about the church, a Domi
nican friar ascended the pulpit, and began
preaching, extempore, of course, to a rather
numerous congregation, that had assembled under
the velarium stretched over the centre of the
nave. He discoursed, in very fluent and choice
language, I confess, on the vanity and misery of
life — though he did not seem personally affected
by them, for he looked rubicund and "jolly"
enough — and the consequent necessity of resig
nation, patience, and the constant intercession of
priests, to conciliate offended Heaven. Now,
though I did not like the matter of his sermon,
yet I was pleased with its manner. He acted his
part very well, and undoubtedly produced much
more effect than Protestant parsons do with their
preaching. But then in Protestant countries
people go to church, not because they feel the
need of spiritual instruction and consolation, but
because it is respectable. Besides, a comfortable pew
is a nice cosy place to sleep in, and a preacher
who kept people awake would be a nuisance.

286 ROBA D' ITALIA.
Certainly, those who go really to listen to some
thing edifying, yawn, which is unmannerly ; but
how can you help gaping, when you are being
filled with wind ?
The Campanile, by the side of the dome, is
really a most elegant structure, and fit, as
Charles V. said, to be kept under a glass shade.
From the top gallery, the ascent to which,
however, I found most fatiguing, — there are four
hundred and five-and-twenty steps, — the view
over the city and its environs is very fine ; but
surpassed, I think, by that obtained from the
terrace of the Piazzale Michael Angelo, where
ornamental works on a large scale are now
being carried on, which will render this pro
menade a greater favourite than the flat and
rather monotonous Cascine at the other extremity
of Florence.
The Baptistery, which, from the sixth century
to the erection of the dome, was the cathedral
of the city, is adorned with three beautiful
bronze gates, which Michael Angelo declared
worthy of forming the gates of Heaven.
The locality just described forms a kind of
parallel to that at Pisa, embracing within its

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE. 287
area the Cathedral, Baptistery, Campo Santo,
and Leaning Tower. We have a Cathedral and
Baptistery ; the Leaning Tower is here repre
sented by the Campanile, whilst instead of the
Campo Santo we have the building belonging to
the Fraternita della Misericordia. This institu
tion, which was founded in 1329 by one Luca
Borsi, a porter, takes charge of the poor sick,
picks up people found injured or dead in the
streets, and accompanies them to the grave. The
brethren wear a long black gown, a hood with
only two eye-holes, and broad-brimmed hat.
To call their assistance, which without reward,
or even being known, they give at any hour of
the day or night, their bell in the Campanile
is pulled once for a person who has met with
an accident, twice for one seriously ill, and
thrice for a death. The society is said to number
some twelve hundred members of all ranks, the
King of Italy being at the head, but ho one
following a low occupation, - such as a butcher,
fish-dealer, barber, coachman, livery -servant, or
cobbler, is admitted into it.
Whilst I am writing this at a window over
looking the Piazza Sta Maria Novella, a pro-

288 ROBA D' ITALIA.
cession of the brethren, forming with half-a-dozen
priests the cortege of a funeral, is coming across
the square, and, stepping on the balcony, I
watch the somewhat mediaeval sight they present.
Their black figures, strongly illumined by the
wax torches they carry, their eyes gleaming
through the round holes in their hoods, the tall
cross borne aloft before them, the mystery sur
rounding them, the coffin and priests, form a
tout ensemble in keeping with the open place
they are traversing, for on this place stand
several buildings strongly recalling the Middle
Ages, and the place itself has seen many such
dismal processions, of even more fearful import
than the one I am now looking at.
To the left of the balcony of the Hotel Minerva,
where I have taken up my abode, stands the
church Sta Maria Novella, once one of the
handsomest churches in Italy, so that Michael
Angelo called her his bride, or la Nouvelle Mariee.
Its painted windows wrap it in a mysterious
semi-darkness, so that it is the very church per
vedersi e per amoreggiarsi. Hence Boccaccio here
encounters Pampinea, Allegra Brigata, and the
other beauties with whom he afterwards, at the

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE. 289
Villa Schifanoia, now Palmieri, keeps his De-
camerone. Another poetical recollection used to attract
visitors to this church. In the sacristy was to
be seen the original portrait of Laura, painted
by Simon Memmi, who also painted that of
Petrarch himself. She was represented wearing
a green dress sprinkled with violets. The paint
ing has disappeared. When I asked a priest what
had become of it, he bitterly remarked he did
not know; probably Government had taken it,
as they took everything else.
But memorials of a totally different character
also belong to this church. Instead of the
sprightly conversation and joyous laughter of
witty cavaliers and beautiful women, the dismal
chant of hideous monks and the groans of the
dying fill the air. The church belonged to the
Dominican friars, who resided in the adjoining
monastery ; and, wherever these fiends went, they
brought the cursed Inquisition with them. In
the enclosure beside the church they used to
expose the victims, condemned to be burnt alive,
to the public gaze, whilst one or more of the
monkish devils exhorted the brutalized and idiotic
VOL. II. u

290 ROBA D' ITALIA.
crowd to utter their anathemas on the heretics,
who were gagged, lest they should say anything
in their own defence.
But times are changed: the Inquisition is
abolished, never to be restored, however hard
priests are trying to revive it. The hall in
which the Inquisitors used to meet and concoct
their fiendish schemes is now used for the con
coction of medicaments and perfumes ; and, as if
by atonement, the monastery, instead of pro
viding for the public the smell of burning human
flesh, now supplies healing drugs and grateful
scents, which are here manufactured on a large
scale. It is time, however, to go and see the Venus de'
Medici. You have no need of guide or catalogue
to tell you which is the famous statue, though
hundreds of statues adorn the palace in which she
is placed. She stands, as is well known, in the
octagon room, called the " Tribuna," in the Gal
leria degli Uffizi. The walls of that room are
covered with crimson velvet, its dome is incrusted
with mother-of-pearl, and the statue itself, placed
nearly in the centre, has behind her the luxurious
Venuses of Correggio and Domenichino, which are

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE. 291
in keeping with the presiding deity ; but the statues
of the Wrestlers and the Whetter, whatever may
be the merit of their mechanical execution, ought
to be banished from this shrine, for surely pugilism
and low manual occupations, in which, moreover,
the actors are shown in the most inelegant, nay,
awkward positions, are not fit subjects for art, and
most unsuitable companions for a figure which is
meant to represent the highest physical beauty
and grace, combined with the loftiest ideal of love,
as the ancient masters understood it, as the coun
sellor of wisdom : rij (rofyiq. napibpovs eptoTas.
Such statues are to sculpture what Pre-Raphael-
itism is to painting, where the ravages of age and
disease, malformations and ugly sores, are repre
sented with a disgusting fidelity and minuteness.
As to the statue of Venus, it did not produce on me
the overpowering effect it might be expected to
produce on one who, like me, had long been
familiar with Byron's glorious lines, beginning
with — " Here too the goddess loves in stone.''
After seeing both Venuses, the Capitoline and the
one here in question, I am confirmed in my opinion
that the former is the more beautiful of the two,
u 2

292 ROBA D' ITALIA.
that it was originally so, and is so now, seeing
that it is as good as perfect, just as it left the
sculptor's hands, whilst the Venus de' Medici is
disfigured by a pair of modern arms, which long
ago ought to have been replaced by something
more in accordance with the rest of the figure.
There is no doubt that Byron has done more by
his poetry to render the Venus de' Medici famous
than the artist who made her, and that, if the bard
had seen the Capitoline Venus, he would have
applied his lines to her rather than to the Venus
de' Medici. I know that when I, for the first time,
saw the Venus that stands in a small cabinet in
the museum of the Capitol, though I had gone
expressly to see her, and was, therefore, not taken
by surprise, the effect was magical, the shock or
thrill that passed through me was electric, and I
felt that indeed she — "  fills
The air around with beauty,''
as a really handsome and graceful living woman
unconsciously surrounds herself with an ambrosial
atmosphere. But, when Byron wrote, the Capi
toline Venus had not yet been discovered ; fancy
the astonishment, wonder, and delight of the

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE. 293
persons who first accidentally found her walled up
in a recess ! Beauty is a thing to be felt and not
described, and, therefore, it is useless to enter into
an analysis of the contending charms of the two
Venuses ; it is not so much in details as in the
tout ensemble that the Capitoline Venus, in my
opinion, is superior to that of Medici; though, to
mention but two particulars, it cannot be denied that
the head and arms of the former are far more beau
tiful than the corresponding portions of the second.
In walking about Florence one cannot help ad
miring its beautiful road pavement, which dates
from the thirteenth century, and recalls that of
Naples. Many of its streets have a very picturesque
aspect, but especially beautiful is the view of the
old bridge and the old houses along the Arno,
obtained from the quay Lungarno Acciajoli. On
ascending it towards the Lungarno Corsini, you
see at the corner of that quay the house of Alfieri,
and on your right in the Piazza della Trinita the
column which came from the baths of Caracalla at
Rome, and which Cosimo I. caused to be erected
there in commemoration of his victory over the
Strozzi. It is surmounted by a statue of Justice,
blind, of course, which when once struck by light-

294 ROBA D' ITALIA.
ning revealed the magpie nest which gave rise
to the work La Gazza Ladra) the circumstances
which form the subject of it actually occurred
here, as if they meant to show that Justice very
often is blind.
What strikes the visitor here yet with greater
astonishment is the imposing massiveness, the
cyclopean character, of the architecture of some
of the Florentine palaces. The Palazzi Vecchio
and Pitti are signal 'instances. I was at Florence
on the 23rd of March, the twenty -fifth anniversary
of the King of Italy's accession to the throne,
whicli of course was kept throughout the country
as a holiday. But at Florence the public demon
strations were confined to the illumination of the
above-named Palazzo Vecchio, and the playing
of military bands in the Piazza Vecchia from
eight till half-past nine o'clock in the evening.
A very mild sort of enthusiasm ! During that
hour-and-a-half the Piazza was crowded with
people ; and, when the band was not playing, the
only sounds heard above the murmur of a thou
sand voices were the cries of vendors of cheap
drinks and comestibles, all of a kind opposed
to dissipation, lemonade and boiled haricot beans

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE. 295
being the most extravagant articles in the market,
and, as it seemed, not much in demand.
I watched the doings of one dealer in five,
who had his beans in a tub placed on a truck,
which he kept pushing into the midst of the
crowd, regardless of the oaths he provoked ; and
during a whole hour he met with only one cus
tomer, a boy, who, taking off his greasy cap,
had it filled by the itinerant merchant's not over-
clean hands with the nourishing pulse, so that,
in commercial language, transactions might be
said to be rather flat. There was, however,
something else to look at; and that was the
illumination of the Palazzo Vecchio, and especially
of its tower. This was most artistically done.
Lamps were so placed along its angles and
parapet that, while they were quite dark out
wards, their light was thrown on the walls, which
made the massive stonework appear transparent,
and the whole tower as if constructed of creamy
porcelain, lit up within. I never, in the way of
illumination, saw anything so well done. ,
A number of statues and' other works of art
adorn the Piazza in front ofthe palace. A gigantic
statue of David stands close to the latter. It

296 ROBA D' ITALIA.
is the work of Michael Angelo. Soderini, the then
Gonfaloniere of the Republic, having presumed
to criticize the face, the artist, who could not
bear his work being found fault with, took his
chisel and a handful of marble dust, and, mounting
a ladder, pretended to give the statue some
finishing touches, whilst he dropped the dust
into the eyes of the Gonfaloniere, who stood
below, and thinking that, out of spite, Michael
Angelo was spoiling his work, he begged of him
to leave off, as the improvement already made
rendered the face quite perfect ; so that the
artist both literally and figuratively threw dust
into his critic's eyes. The statue was repeatedly
exposed to danger. In 1512 the lightning struck
the pedestal, and in 1527, when the rule of the
Medici was for the third time overthrown, the
defenders of the Palazzo Vecchio cast down a
heavy stone, which knocked off the left arm of
the statue, and broke it into three pieces. These,
however, were picked up by Vasari and Salviati,
artists who afterwards became famous, and re
placed by Cosimo I.
Another statue that attracts attention is John
of Bologna's group of three figures in one piece,

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE. 297
representing the ' Rape of the Sabine.' Dona-
tello's bronze Judith — rather masculine in her
forms — on the point of committing a treacherous
murder, and Cellini's ' Perseus killing the Gorgon,'
with the Goliath - slaying David, and the just
mentioned 'Rape ofthe Sabine,' form an ensemtye of
ideas personifying violence and bloodshed, which
leads us to believe that the Republican Florentines
must have taken especial pleasure in the display
and contemplation of such subjects. The Gorgon's
head in Cellini's group is generally said to have
the face of his handsome housekeeper, Dorothy,
while the face of Perseus is reported to be that
of one of his pupils. I cannot say how much
truth there is in the assertion concerning the
Gorgon face ; but as to that of Perseus, Cellini,
in his autobiography, says that he hired one
Cencio, the son of a meretrice called Gambetta,
to stand as model. The " row " he afterwards
had with the woman, when she wanted to extort
money from him, and which he relates at full
length and with his usual naivete, forms one of
the most amusing episodes in his book.
The Piazza has seen some strange scenes. Let
us relate one*

298 ROBA D' ITALIA.
The date is the 7th of April, 1498. It is
early in the morning, but the Piazza is already
filled with a densely-packed crowd. Every
window, balcony, or coping, affording the
slightest view of the square, is occupied by eager
faces. What is about to take place? As mad
a trial as the gloomiest fanaticism of the ages of
mental darkness could have conceived.
Savonarola, the Dominican friar, the violent
opponent of the Medici, and that detestable
monster Alexander VI. , by his fiery eloquence
had stirred up the Florentine people. He was
the virtual ruler of Florence, and the Papal
anathemas against him had only increased his
popularity. Then the Pope intimated to the
merchant princes of the Republic that they must
either silence the preacher, or see their property
confiscated in all parts of Europe. The Repub
licans obeyed. The Pope at the same time sent
Francesco di Puglia, a Franciscan friar, to oppose
the Dominican. The former one day, while
preaching in Sta Croce, declared that his adver
sary had boasted of being able to perform miracles
to confirm his heretical doctrines ; that he (Puglia)
Was far from wishing to tempt Providence in

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE. 299
that way, but yet was willing to be placed with
Savonarola on a burning pile, not in the hope
of escaping unscathed, but that so dangerous a
heretic might perish with him. Savonarola had
too much sense to accept the challenge, but one
of his disciples, Domenico Bonvicini, did. Great
were the rejoicings at this news.
One party expected to see in the triumph of
Savonarola the proof of his own sanctity and
that of his doctrines, and the humiliation of
Rome. The other party, certain of the death
of Bonvicini, anticipated therein the fall of their
opponent ; and the public in general looked
forward to a pleasant day, full of genial excite
ment. But Francesco declared that he would
ascend the pyre with no one but Savonarola
himself, because the sacrifice of his own life must
involve that of the enemy of the Church. Other
Franciscans, however, offered to undergo the
test with Bonvicini. There was quite a rage
among the young friars to incur the chance of
being burnt alive; and the Old Man of the
Mountain, the Papal Cheat, wrote encouraging
letters to them, assuring the dupe who should
be the chosen champion undying glory "in

300 ROBA D* ITALIA.
this here world," and eternal bliss " in that

'ere."

The Florentine rulers, who in these would-be
martyrs saw only so many besotted fanatics, at
last decided that the combat should be fought
out by Bonvicini and Rondinelli, a Franciscan.
It is to witness this novel kind of trial that the
people are assembled on the Piazza. A platform,
five feet high, ten feet wide, and fifty feet long,
covered with fire-proof clay, has been erected in
the open space. Two piles of wood, separated
by a passage two feet wide, rise on the platform ;
when set on fire, the two friars are each to
occupy one of the piles.
The Loggia de' Lanzi has been assigned to
the two religious fraternities, Dominicans and
Franciscans, whence their respective champions
are to enter the fire, by means of a wooden
bridge, which thence leads to the platform. There
is a commotion in the dense mass filling the
square ; a wide passage is made to allow the
Franciscans to pass, who advance in gloomy
silence, and enter the Loggia. There is a move*
ment in another direction. It is the Dominicans,
Who appear chanting hymns, and followed by a

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE. 301
great crowd, carrying lighted wax-tapers. At
their head marches Savonarola himself, in his
priestly habit, and bearing in his hand a crystal
pyx, containing the consecrated wafer. They
also take their appointed position in the Loggia.
Both the voluntary victims are prepared to con
summate the sacrifice. But the Franciscans de
mand that Bonvicini should take off his clothes,
lest they conceal some charm or sortilege. After a
long contention, the Dominican submits to a strict
search. Now all seems ready. The spectators are
already joyfully rubbing their hands at the
coming sport, and, may be, laying their bets on
this or that champion. Bonvicini steps on the
bridge to walk to the fire, and Savonarola puts
into his hands the pyx, to act as a sort of
talisman. A fresh dispute arises ; the Franciscans
exclaim that it is nothing else than horrible
impiety to expose the consecrated wafer to the
risk of being burnt.
Hours have been consumed by the preparations
for the ceremony and in the subsequent disputes.
Evening is coming on ; the crowd, that has waited
patiently all day, is getting tired and cold and hungry.

302 ROBA D' ITALIA.
An angry murmur arises, to which the Domi
nicans reply by the dreary intonation of psalms,
which, indeed, has not ceased all day. Savona
rola insists upon his champion entering the fire
provided with the pyx. Men are still wrangling,
when kind Mother Nature, by sending down a
pouring rain, which disperses the people, soaks
the piles, and puts a stop to the whole farce.
Did the Dominicans and Franciscans, conscious
of the inability of either champion to conquer in
the fiery trial, and yet anxious to save their
credit with the people, contrive these little points
of dispute beforehand ? The people, however,
composed in that age — not in this, oh, no ! —
mostly of fools, ascribed the fiasco to the conduct
of Savonarola, who thenceforth ceased to be their
idol. The Medici regained the ascendancy. Savo
narola and his faithful follower Bonvicini were
seized, thrown into prison, and shortly after,
nolentes volentes, burnt at the stake. With the
famous Dominican, who had fought for religious
and political liberty, the independence of Florence
perished. The Republic was henceforth despoiled
by Pope and Emperor.
The Pitti Palace has already been referred to

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE. 303
in my account of Bianca Cappello. Its halls are
not only adorned with works of art, but, as we
have seen, also stained with blood. Other murders,
besides the one spoken of, were committed in it.
Cosimo L, in one of these rooms, strangled his
valet, because he suspected him of having betrayed
his senile amours to his son Francesco. More
sad still was the fate of Eleanor of Toledo. She
was the wife of Peter, another son of Cosimo I.,
by whom she was unjustly accused of infidelity
under aggravating circumstances, and to revenge
himself, he said, he gave himself up to de
baucheries, such as we associate only with the
corrupt ages of Greece and Rome. This threw
his young and handsome wife into the arms of
a lover, a Florentine youth, called Alessandro
Gaci. But it coming to the ears of the latter
that his intimacy with the lady had been dis
covered, he took refuge in a monastery, and
adopted the religious habit. Eleanor, thus for
saken by her lover, ill-treated and 'reviled by
her husband, sought consolation in a fresh love
union. The new object of her affection was a knight
of St Stephen's, who, on being banished the city

304 ROBA D' ITALIA.
for having killed an antagonist at a public tourna
ment, wrote a letter to Eleanor, which, by the
carelessness of a friend to whom he had forwarded
it for delivery into Eleanor's own hand, eventually
reached that of Francesco, the Grand Duke,
who, after having read it, immediately sent for
his brother, who, with him, determined on the
death of Eleanor. Of course, both Francesco,
who had caused much public scandal by his
amours with Bianca, and his brother Peter, whose
excesses in that way were even more shameful,
were competent judges on a question of morality
and conjugal fidelity ! The Grand ' Duke was
glad to get rid of a woman against whom
Bianca had a spite, perhaps because she sur
passed the latter in youth and beauty; and
Peter was delighted with the opportunity of
playing the offended party, and at the same
time destroying a woman that was a living
accusation against him. With his own hand
he planted the dagger in her heart.
Isabella de' Medici was another victim of the
same kind. She was the wife of Paolo Giordano
Orsini, Duke of Bracciano. Forsaken by him
soon after their marriage, she was led astray by

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE. 305
Troilo Orsino, a relative of her husband, under
whose care she had been left. The Duke soon
received information of the fact; returned to
Florence, pretended the greatest affection for his
wife, but at night, as soon as they were alone
in their bedchamber, he, approaching her as if
anxious for an embrace, threw a cord round her
neck, and strangled her.
I confess the Boboli Gardens, adjoining the
Pitti Palace, did not excite in me that enthusiasm
of admiration it is considered orthodox to feel
and display. But whatever they may be to a
passing visitor, they ought to excite great interest
in the heart of every Italian, for it was in these
gardens that Francesco I. first planted the mul
berry-tree, which since then has been propagated
all over the country, and plays so great a part
in its industrial prosperity. And farther, in these
same gardens Ferdinand II. cultivated the first
potatoes seen in Italy. Here were two simple
things done, which yet were of far greater im
portance, and more lasting consequence, than any
victory won in the battle-field ; but the gardens
contain no memorial of either achievement. If
some twenty or fifty thousand men had been
VOL. II. x

306 ROBA D' ITALIA.
killed there in one day to gratify the whim of
a king or the caprice of a Pope, then every spot,
where some particularly fierce butchery was per
formed, would carefully and proudly be pointed
out to the traveller, and he would be assured,
by historians and guide-book compilers, that the
spot was one " ofthe highest interest."
In Italy, par excellence the chosen home of art,
and the supposed land of music, after all, the
people pay but little respect to either. I say
the supposed land of music, for, in reality, in no
country, perhaps, do you hear less good music,
or, in fact, music of any kind, than in Italy ; a
circumstance noticed long ago by Moore, who
says in one of his poems : —
" If it be true that Music reigns
Supreme in Italy's soft shades,
'Tis like the harmony so famous
Among the spheres, which he of Samos
Declared had such transcendent merit,
That not a soul on earth could hear it."
As to Italian respect for art, the marble floors
of their churches are defiled by constant expectora
tion. And, to return to music, performers do not
meet with the consideration shown to them in
other countries. I do not here mean the con-

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE. 307
sideration exacted by talent, but the courtesy due
to the social position of the artist, as an artist.
While I was staying at Florence, the orchestra of
Viennese ladies gave a performance at the Teatro
del Principe Umberto, which I attended. The
ladies, of course, were placed on the stage; the
first row of orchestra fauteuils was immediately
under it. A few of them were occupied by gentle
men who did not smoke ; the rest served as seats
to male creatures, who kept puffing the smoke of
their cigarettes and vile cigars into the faces
of the ladies just above them. Now, a man
of gentle breeding, and with reverence for art,
would not do such a thing ; though he might
have but a low opinion of the birth or social
standing of the performer, he would respect in
her the woman and the artist, and would noi
treat her as if she were a barmaid at a low
music-hall. If I were the directress of the
Viennese orchestra, I certainly should refuse to
perform before any smoking audience.
In England I have often heard people most
unreasonably clamorous for encores ; I may observe
that in Italy they are as bad, or worse in that
respect. At the concert just spoken of, almost
x 2

308 ROBA D' ITALIA.
every piece was encored, some pieces two or
three times. Now, if the artists show themselves
willing to perform a task that is not in the
programme, no one can complain ; but if they
show, by coming forward and bowing in response
to the call for a repetition of their performance,
that they are not disposed to go through it again,
I think the public have no right to exact it. A
lady who had played a solo on the violin, in
answer to calls for an encore as many times
repeated, four times bowed her acknowledgments
for the honour paid her ; it was plain enough that
she declined playing again, which she had a
perfect right to do. A fifth time the directress led
her forward, and with her bowed to the public ;
but the many-headed monster would not be
satisfied, and with its hisses and howlings stopped
the progress of the next piece, and the soloist
had to play again. Certainly, she received a
thundering round of applause, both before and at
the termination of her second performance ; but if
I had been in the lady's place, instead of acknow
ledging it with a pleased smile, I should have
shown by my looks that I had submitted to an
extortion, that I felt I had been "bullied" into

FROM GENOA TO FLORENCE. 309
playing again, for it amounts to that. I am
well aware that artists, as a rule, know how to
hold their own against the public, and therefore
the Viennese ladies need not my championship ;
this particular instance is only here referred to
in order to condemn the practice.
Florence has a bad reputation for the preva
lence in that city of the cruel practice of vivi
section of animals, for the good of suffering
humanity, it is said. But whether any useful
knowledge is ever gained that way is a matter
of doubt ; it is, however, matter of certainty that
many doctors in course of time become so callous
as to. be perfectly insensible to the sufferings
they inflict on their victims, whether they belong
to the human or an inferior species. Probing,
and cutting, and hacking, and sawing away at
living limbs seems to stir up in them feelings
such as the Chourineur describes as arising in
him at the sight of a slaughter-house. When I
am told that in this City of Flowers — this home
of some of the most noble and genial productions
of art' — for six months about fifty poor dogs a
month have been sent to one laboratory alone,
to be slowly tortured to death, (the doctor, to

310 ROBA D' ITALIA.
judge by his name, Schiff, is a German, and not
an Italian ; he always keeps on hand, for the
same purpose, a large number of fowls, pigeons,
and rabbits,) I feel quite disgusted with the city
that tolerates such things. The air seems con
taminated with the pestilential breath of cruelty.
Shall such a foul blot remain on its fair face ?
We have seen Justice represented as blind on
the column in the Piazza della Trinita. She
seems particularly blind at Florence, for in the
Via del Porcellana, not far from the Piazza Sta
.Maria Novella, is a house, said to have belonged
to Amerigo Vespucci — his bust is affixed to the
wall — with an inscription attributing to him the
discovery of America ! But, to quote from Otway's
' Venice Preserved,' " Though story wrong his fame,"
in this particular instance, Columbus has written
his name too largely on the surface of our globe
for petty jealousy to wipe it out.

SECTION XII.

FROM FLORENCE TO DOMO D' OSSOLA.

SECTION" XII.

FROM FLORENCE TO DOMO D' OSSOLA.
Cross the Apennines a Second Time — Beyond, the Country is
Flat and Monotonous — A Pleasant Travelling Companion— A
Lunar Spectrum — The Lago Maggiore by Moonlight — Arona
¦ — Statue of Charles Borromeo — Castle of Angera — The Islands
— Paintings said to be by Tempesta — Marble Quarry — Rivers
and Winds — An Eligible Conveyance — A Spanish Fellow
Traveller — The Lake of Mergozzo — Wild Scenery — Arrival at
Domo d' Ossola.

314 ROBA D' ITALIA.

FROM FLORENCE TO DOMO D' OSSOLA.
In making this journey I once more pass through
Pistoja, and again cross the Apennines to
Bologna, where I take the rail to the left for
Modena and Parma, thanking my stars that now
Italy forms but one country, and is no longer
cut up into a number of small states, at the frontier
of each of which the traveller's temper and purse
were taxed by Custom-house and passport regu
lations, while in each he required money of a
kind differing from that of the state he had just
left. Between Bologna and Parma the country
is flat and uninteresting. You may see long
and straight avenues of trees, as in some parts
of France. The soil is industriously cultivated ;
but, as it was early in the season yet, no foliage
was to be seen, which seemed quite out of keeping
with the heat of the weather. There are no
evergreens anywhere, so that, except in summer,
the landscape looks very bare, and you can

FROM FLORENCE TO DOMO d' OSSOLA. 315
scarcely fancy yourself in Italy. The only thing
that relieves the monotony of the view are the
bright dresses of the peasant women ; and it may
be to produce this effect that everywhere country
people are so fond of loud colours, which somewhat
enliven the sober tints of a wintry landscape.
At Parma, again, an Italian officer, who is going
to Milan, becomes my travelling companion. We
are alone, and so soon enter into conversation,
light our cigars — it is quite marvellous through
how many cigars, and very strong ones, these
officers get in a day — and after a while he informs
me that he spent many years at Vienna, in the
Austrian service — hence he speaks fluent German,
a very rare accomplishment among Italians — and
is now residing at Palermo, where he hopes
I may some day visit him, and I also hope to do
so, if life last long enough ; for who would not
wish to see Italy again, who has seen it once ?
As we approach Milan, by which time it has
grown dark, my companion suddenly points to the
rising moon, half whose disk, of great size, appears
on the horizon. I look, and, surely, there is the
moon, and yet, as but a short time before I had
seen it high in the heavens on the other side of

316 ROBA D' ITALIA.
the carriage, I cannot understand this sudden
transition and declension. Whilst we are still mar
velling at this phenomenon, we seem to be getting
very near the moon indeed, and then discover that
it is ribbed ! We both of us burst out into a
simultaneous laugh : what we have been taking
for the moon is the illuminated glass dome of the
Galleria Vittorio Emanuele, at Milan ! I tel'l my
companion I shall beware of telling any one of my
blunder, lest I be taken for a lunatico. " Oh,"
replied he, "it was a luna ticchio — moon-fancy."
So, for the sake of the ready pun, I thought I must
tell the incident.
On this occasion I stayed at Milan three or four
days only, and then set off for Arona, on the Lago
Maggiore. It was in the beginning of April, and
a beautiful day. On arriving at Arona, about
nine o'clock at night, I went by mistake to the
Albergo Reale, instead of alighting at the Hotel
d' Italia, which is the better of the two to be found
in the place, the latter being larger and more
modern. However, when I entered the room
assigned to me, the windows of which were wide
open and directly facing the lake, so fairy-like a
scene burst on my view, that I forgot all else.

FROM FLORENCE TO DOMO d' OSSOLA. 317
The moon, nearly at the full, shining in an un
clouded sky, filled my room with a flood of light,
while she marbled the rippling waters, leaving a
phosphorescent streak in her liquid wake, as she
sailed above through the firmament. And though
the real beauty of the lake is not yet revealed,
because of its many windings, yet as the scenery
is southern, it wears a smiling aspect.
The town of Arona itself offers nothing de
serving attention. I walked through it about
ten o'clock at night, and found every shop closed,
except the cobblers' workshops, which were still
open, and the cobblers hard at work, patching
and mending. What is the reason that all
through Italy shoemakers work later into the
night than any other workmen ? Certainly the
leather they use is very bad, and hence boots
do not last long, and consequently the necessity
of being always repairing. I saw the main street
of the town again on the next day, when I
passed through it twice in going to, and return
ing from, the gigantic statue of St Charles
Borromeo. It did not look very lively then.
Before the opening of the Mont Cenis railway,
Arona was a thriving and bustling place, for

318 ROBA D' ITALIA.
the trade between Switzerland and Italy passed
through it; but now no one visits it except the
pleasure-seeker, who makes no stay there. The
ruinous castle, the statue of Borromeo, and the
quarry of red marble, of which the cathedral of
Pavia is built, are the objects of interest here.
I did not, on this occasion, ascend into the statue,
because I had been in its interior many years ago,
and I now found the feat really too troublesome ;
the bats also, that have quite characteristically
taken up their abode in the head of the cardinal,
are unpleasant company. The statue, in spite
of its gigantic proportions, has artistic merit ;
the only fault about it is the excessive size of
the ears. The statue next in height, I believe,
is that of the Notre Dame of France, at Puy,
whose pedestal is seven metres high, while the
statue itself measures sixteen metres. The statue
of Borromeo is nearly twenty-three and a half
metres, and its pedestal nearly twelve metres
high, so that the latter is by far the loftiest
monument of the kind. The motto of the man
to whom it is erected, as we have seen, was
"Humility"; if in the region he now inhabits,
he troubles himself with the affairs of this world,

FROM FLORENCE TO DOMO d' OSSOLA. 319
he must have cause to be dissatisfied with his
admirers, who, as if to give the character he
assumed "the lie," have erected to him the finest
tomb and the loftiest statue in Europe.
From Arona I took the steamer which goes
up the lake, whose shores become more and
more mountainous and picturesque as you ad
vance. Passing Lesa and Stresa, you arrive at
Baveno ; there is almost opposite to it, on the
other side of the lake, a place called Laveno, a
curious double set of almost homonymous appella
tions. At Baveno there are two large hotels,
the Beau Rivage and the Belle Vue ; the latter
is the more modern, and was the only one as
yet open.
Landing there, I partook of lunch, and then
hired -a boat to visit Isola Bella. You pass that
island and the adjoining one of Isola dei Pescatori
in steaming to Baveno, and the first view of
Isola Bella, this " gorgeous throne of Spring," as
Jean Paul calls it in his ' Titan,' has certainly a
magical effect; but — shall I confess it? — it has
too much the air of a stage-decoration, for which
reason also J. J. Rousseau, who had at first
intended to lay the scene of his ' Nouvelle Heloise '

320 ROBA D' ITALIA.
on these islands, abandoned the idea. They
appeared to him too artificial.
This objection, however, does not apply to
the Isola dei Pescatori, which I consider the
most picturesque of the four islets. But the
terraces of Isola Bella, planted with orange and
lemon trees, its unfinished, yet grand, palace,
filled with treasures of art, form a beautiful con
trast with the homely cottages and humble church
of the fishermen's island. The more distant and
larger Isola Madre, and the surrounding shores,
gently sloping down to the water's edge, and
backed by high mountains, — all these together form
a coup d'ceil which certainly has not its equal in
Europe. Its beauty, however, is marred by the
barrack-like hotel at Pallanza. In the villa on
Isola Madre there are landscapes said to have
been painted by Tempesta, when he had taken
refuge there, after having killed his wife to
make room for a mistress. But as this painter
lived between the years 1555 and 1630, and Isola
Madre was not put into its present state before
1670, — till then it was a bare rock, — I do not
understand how Tempesta could take refuge and
paint landscapes there during his lifetime. In

FROM FLORENCE TO DOMO d' OSSOLA. 321
the same villa there is also a small theatre,
where some of Goldoni's plays were first acted.
It is with regret one leaves this enchanting spot,
realizing the poetic fancies of Tasso and Ariosto.
And if the passing traveller is sorry to depart,
how deeply must the owner of these Islands of
the Blest grieve to leave them for ever! But
death is relentless. The Count of Borromeo had
died about a month before my visit to Isola
Bella. The present owner of this paradisiacal
domain is an infant.
Behind Baveno is a marble quarry, whence
the columns for the new basilica of S. Paolo,
outside Rome, are procured ; I also saw there
two nearly finished, gigantic monolithic columns,
destined for the portico of the Galleria Vittorio
Emanuele, at Milan.
Intending to go to Domo d' Ossola, I crossed in
the steamer over to Pallanza, whence a diligence
starts for that place. As the steamer did not go
straight across, but followed the shores of the
small bay the lake forms here, I had further
opportunities for admiring the picturesque aspects
of the lake : passing Fariolo, whose summer beauty,
when the vines, chestnut, and walnut trees that
VOL. II. Y

322 ROBA D' ITALIA.
surround it, are clothed in their garments of
verdure, I had arrived too early to see ; passing the
village of Gravellona, situated at the very point of
the bay, the numerous villas dotting the shore, I
arrived at Pallanza, just as the diligence was
preparing to start. As here I take leave of the
Lago Maggiore, let me observe in conclusion that
as the Lake of Geneva is traversed by the
Rhone, the Lake of Constance by the Rhine, so
the Lago Maggiore is traversed by the Ticino. It
is somewhat curious that the three largest rivers
issuing from Switzerland should flow through the
largest lakes of that country ; perhaps they formed
them ? There are two winds which regularly blow
over the Lago Maggiore : the north wind, called
Tevano, which blows between 2 and 10 o'clock a.m.,
and the south wind, Breva, blowing between mid
day and midnight. I return to Pallanza.
As I walked by the side of the truck con
taining my luggage, I was addressed by a man,
who asked me if I was going to Domo d' Ossola ;
and on my inquiring why he wanted to know,
he replied that he was a vetturino, and would
take me there in his elegant and comfortable
legno, at the same price as the diligence, and in

FROM FLORENCE TO DOMO D' OSSOLA. 323
much less time. I asked to see the legno. " Here
it is," he said, pointing to a machine standing
outside a shed. Never was such a ramshackle
affair seen standing on four wheels. As for age,
it might have taken Adam and Eve on their
wedding tour, and never been cleaned or repaired
since then. Its wood, leather, and iron were as
rotten as such long service and exposure to the
weather could make them ; and when, in order to
test its stability, I slightly shook it, I thought it
would have collapsed, and lain down on the
ground, to rest for ever from its fatigues. The
owner of this delectable conveyance, who was
most anxious to put my luggage into it at once,
when, after this examination, I asked him how
much he usually paid people who risked their
lives in his death-trap, burst out into a laugh,
in which he was joined by a number of loungers,
who had been attracted by the chance of my
being taken in, in more than one way, plainly
intimating that he would have thought me a down
right fool, had I accepted his proposal.
I can imagine with what astonishment and
delight I should have been received in every
village on making my entrance into it in this
y 2

324 ROBA D' ITALIA.
gorgeous equipage. I therefore mounted the dili
gence, the driver took his seat, and talking,
howling, and whistling at his four horses, set
them in motion. To enjoy the view, I had gone
on the banquette, where my only travelling com
panion was a Spaniard, a workman, of some sort,
who beguiled the tedium of the journey by frequent
dives into a pocket-handkerchief, bringing there
from treasures both old and new — no, I mean
lumps of bread and slices of onion, which he
munched with evident satisfaction to himself,
though not to me ; for as he would also keep
talking to me in broken French, I came in, if
not for the taste, at least for the second-hand
flavour, of his pungent bulbs.
The road from Pallanza towards Domo d' Ossola
is not the high road, but a secondary route, which
joins the high road before you reach Premo-
sello. One portion of it skirts the beautiful small
lake of Mergozzo, at the head of which is situate
the village of the same name. The side of the
lake opposite to that where the road is rises as
a perpendicular rock straight out of the water,
and has the shape of a hill cut in half. The
lake is very deep, and the water so clear, that

FROM FLORENCE TO DOMO d' OSSOLA. 325
this rocky triangle is so distinctly reflected in it
as to represent a monstrous flounder, or trapezium,
if you like a geometrical figure better; if we
could but divest ourselves of the knowledge that
the water is there, we should not be able to
explain the curious phenomenon.
After having reached the main road to Domo
d' Ossola, we begin to ascend, and the river Tosa
runs by the side of the way. The scenery
becomes more wild, and the river, here rushing
over its rocky bed, sometimes swells to such
an extent as to destroy the bridges that cross
it at Premosello and Masone. We pass the large
marble quarries, belonging to the administration
of the cathedral of Milan, whence all the stone
for that building is derived.
We may now be said to have reached the
mountainous regions, into which with every step
we ascend higher and higher. The Tosa issues
from the Gries glacier beyond Formazzo, to which
point the northern extremity of the valley of
Domo d' Ossola extends. To the left we behold
the entrance to the wild valley of Anzasca, once
famous for its gold mines, and at the head of
which rises Monte Rosa, that rival of Mont Blanc.

326 ROBA D' ITALIA.
Shortly before reaching Domo d' Ossola, you pass
the entrance to the valley of Vichezza, in whose
recesses is Trontano, once the residence of the
hermit Dolcino of Novarra, who was burnt alive
for heresy at Rome at the beginning of the four
teenth century.
I arrived at Domo d' Ossola late at night. It
was then raining in torrents; a bad look-out for
the morrow, when I meant to cross the Simplon.
The Hotel de la Poste, where the diligence stops,
is a miserable place to alight at. The entrance
to it is through a sort of harness and luggage
room, and the dining - room has a most dismal
aspect. Luckily, I found the bed-room better than
I could have expected, and a roaring fire I soon
had burning in the wide chimney made it some
what cheerful. It was not long before I was
between the sheets, to prepare by a long sleep
for the fatigues of the coming day.

SECTION XIII.

THE SIMPLON.

SECTION XIII.

THE SIMPLON.
The Weather is Bad — Officiousness of Manager of the Diligence
Bureau — Country People Fond of their Umbrellas — Rain
comes down in Torrents — Improvements on the Simplon —
Carelessness of Driver — Objection to have the Main Road near
a Village — A Perilous Feat — Farewell to Italy — Absence of
Preparations for the Reception of Travellers at the Village of
Simplon — It is Snowing Fast — Change from Diligence to Open
Sledges — Bad Management of Swiss Authorities — Difficulty of
Advancing — Dangers of the Road — Long Stoppage at the
Hospice — Dangerous Position just before Entering the Gallery
of the Glacier Kaltwasser — Re-enter Diligence — A Stray Cat —
Forms a Connecting Link between the two Republics of the
United States and Switzerland — Reflections on Want of Accom
modation for Travellers — Arrival at Brieg — Conclusion of
Italian Journey.

330 ROBA D' ITALIA.

THE SIMPLON.
On Saturday morning, the fourth of April, I took
my seat in the coupe of the diligence leaving
Domo d' Ossola for Brieg. After a long spell of
fine weather, it had begun to rain on the previous
night, and the sky in the morning was overcast,
and threatened more rain.
This did not look very cheering. An incident,
very trifling in itself, contributed to heighten
the key-note of disagreeables in store for me on
that day. The porter of the hotel where I had
slept — the Poste, a dismal place, though the
proprietor is very obliging, and the attendance
good — after having seen my luggage placed on
the top of the vehicle, was going to undo the
leather apron of the coupe for me to get in,
when the chef ofthe diligence office rushed out,
and in execrable French asked him quite savagely
what he meant by meddling with the diligence.

THE SIMPLON. 331
I thought it due to the man to take his part,
and told the official he was doing no harm,
whereupon the latter turned upon me, and said
the porter had no right to do as he had done,
and that the conductor placed the passengers.
Now everybody knows that, but still it did not
justify the official's overbearing and rude manner.
But he was a Government official, — for the Swiss
Government " works the road," in coaching slang,
— and everywhere Government officials, the more
subordinate their post, the more importance they
assume, looking upon the public as something
to be snubbed and domineered over.
And the experience of that day confirms me
in the view I have long held, that Government
ought to have as little to do with the means of
locomotion of the people, the carriage of its letters,
goods, and messages, as possible. And yet there
are persons in England who want Government,
after already having in their hands the Post and
Telegraph Offices, to have the management of
railways also. All these things ought to be
carried on by private companies. Against theni
you have your redress if they lose your property
or smash your limbs, but against Government

332 ROBA D5 ITALIA.
none. If their employes steal your letters, although
you have registered them, or your telegrams
arrive too late, you are coolly told that Govern
ment is not responsible ; and if you complain,
the final answer is official insolence. I used to think
Swiss management was a pattern ; but I am cured
of this delusion, as I have been of many others.
I am sorry to have to say this, because I was born
of Swiss parents in Switzerland — though England
has for many years been my real home — and there
fore wished to be able to speak well of my native
country; but the truth must be spoken.
Well, we started. As we left the town we met
hundreds of country people coming into it with
the produce of their farms. Goats' flesh seems
to be largely consumed in the locality, for out
of every ten women about seven carried kids in
their arms. I mean real kids, and not children,
who sometimes jocularly are called " kids." Every
man and woman, moreover, was armed with a
stout umbrella. With country people all the
world over, the umbrella has a kind of Eastern
importance attached to it; and I do believe many
a peasant is quite sorry when it is too fine for
him to take his beloved umbrella with him on

THE SIMPLON. 333
a journey. He evidently thinks it imparts an
air of respectability.
The valley of Domo d' Ossola offers beautiful
vistas. The traveller coming from the North, on
here setting his foot on Italian soil, is at once
in the midst of Italian scenery, though as yet
without the "golden oranges." But the houses
with their flat roofs, the terraces with their vine
arbours, the wide awnings over the streets, the
costumes of the peasants and their language, tell
him that he is in Italy. The views from some
of the heights surrounding the valley are charming.
Mount Calvary, a famous place of pilgrimage,
dotted up to its top with small chapels, ought to
be visited. At the opening of the Valley Vedro
we see the tempestuous Davedro rushing forth and
swelling the waters of the Tosa. By-and-by,
as we ascend the pass, the Davedro will be our
noisy but picturesque companion.
Shortly after we had crossed the Tosa the rain
came down in right earnest, and the conductor,
who sat beside me in the coupe, gave me the
joyful assurance that it would not only continue
all day, but for many days to come. We had
by this time reached the wild scenery of the pass

334 ROBA D' ITALIA.
— much wilder on the Italian than on the Swiss
side — and though the rain was in itself highly
objectionable, yet it produced one favourable
effect, — it swelled the torrents and cascades that
contribute so greatly to the beauty of the Simplon
route. Some of the cascades were exceedingly
picturesque. One I particularly noticed. It did
not shoot out from the rock, but ran down its
smooth and broad expanse ; and in doing so,
the water, beaten into silvery foam, resembled the
continuous unfolding and dropping down from above
of the most delicate and elegant lacework, such as
should form the sole and constant garment of a
woman I loved, to enhance her beauty, and allow
me, when in her presence, ever to feel the tinc
turing and holy — the reader knows what I mean
by the term — influence of the ambrosial electricity,
emanating from and surrounding her whole being
with an atmosphere of life of rapturous joy.
Within the last two or three years a low wall
has been built up along some of the more dan
gerous portions of the road on the Italian side.
It is to be hoped that this will be continued all
the way, for it inspires the traveller with a greater
feeling of security than the very low posts, 'placed

THE SIMPLON. 335
at considerable distances from each other, which
hitherto formed, and higher up still form, the
only barrier between him and the precipice.
Amidst the pouring rain the diligence slowly
creeps up the pass, the water rushing in torrents
from many an overhanging rock upon the road
and the vehicle, whilst the driver, a young Swiss
speaking the most lovely Bernese patois, coolly
walks through it all. Presently, however, an
extra dose of water suddenly falls upon his head,
whereupon he utters an exclamation, in which
der Tiifel plays an important part. I ask him,
with .great interest, — " Het itch oppen opper bppis
do?" His face, from being oval, becomes ellip
tical, the grin is so broad, and he exclaims, with
amazement, — " Herje I da Herr redet dutsch."
He is, in fact, as much astounded as were two
gentlemen I know — one of whom related the
incident to me — who, when making a tour in
Normandy, came into a small town, the name of
which I forget, and, seeing a statue in the market
place, were anxious to know to whom it had been
erected. Looking around for some one who could
give them the desired information, they espied
a man they took for a Frenchman coming towards

336 ROBA D' ITALIA.
them ; so they mustered up their French between
them, and asked him, — " De quel drdle est-ce Id
la statue?" To which they received the genuine
John Bull answer, — " Blowed if I know." The
supposed Frenchman was an English artisan.
To return to the driver : he is rather careless,
letting the horses proceed at their own sweet will,
without his even holding the reins, though we
pass along the most fearful precipices, into which,
should the horses take fright, which might easily
be caused by the fall of a stone or a more than
usually plentiful downpour of water from the
rocky wall on our right, we should be launched
without hope of salvation. However, we reach
Crevola, and soon after pass through the gallery
of the same name. Nothing can surpass the wild
ness of this region. Here, one would think, the
passions of men must be silenced by the awe-
inspiring grandeur of nature ; yet it was at the
entrance of the Vai Davedro, beyond Crevola, that
in 1487 the peasants of the Valais fought the
Milanese, defeated them, and the women of Doma
d' Ossola took a horrible revenge, too shocking to
be specified here, for the outrages they had suffered
from the Milanese.

THE SIMPLON. 337
Advancing further we pass the villages of Varzo
and Murcantino, which lie far away from the road,
because, like some English towns that would have
no railways near them, and afterwards had to
construct connecting lines to bring the trains right
into their midst, those two villages would not have
the Simplon route approach them, though now they
regret the short-sighted policy of their fathers.
The scenery here for a while is quite pastoral, but
only for a short distance. It becomes wild again
as we near Isella, where the Italian custom-house
is ; the Swiss, in this matter, are more liberal :
they do not search passengers' luggage.
In this neighbourhood another incident of war
occurred, which merits re-telling.
When, in 1800, Napoleon led his army across the
Great St. Bernard, a column of a thousand men,
under the command of General B^thencourt, was
sent to occupy the Simplon pass between Isella
and Domo d' Ossola. Avalanches and falling rocks
had carried away a wooden bridge near the former
place, and the further progress of the troops
seemed altogether stopped by a gap in the road,
sixty feet wide. One of the soldiers volunteered
to cross it. It was a most hazardous undertaking :
VOL. II. Z

338 ROBA D' ITALIA.
putting his feet into the holes in the side of the
rock where the wooden joists of the bridge had
been fixed, and holding on with his hands to such
slight projections in the stone as he could find,
he managed to get safely across, where, attaching
the one end of a rope he had brought with him,
he enabled all the rest to follow him. The
General was the first to cross by means of the
rope, to which he clung, hanging over the fright
ful abyss ; the thousand soldiers followed him,
loaded, as they were, with their arms and knap
sacks, and all reached the other side in safety.
There were five dogs with the soldiers. When the
last man had crossed, the poor animals all rushed
down the precipice ; three were at once carried
away by the waters of the impetuous torrent
below, the other two were strong enough to
struggle successfully with the current, and, having
attained the opposite shore, climbed up the rugged
side of the precipice, and came, all wounded and
bleeding, to their masters' feet.
Shortly after passing Isella we reach the frontier
line between Italy and Switzerland. A large up
right stone by the wayside has inscribed on it
the one word "Italia." Here, then, I must say

THE SIMPLON. 339
farewell to beloved Italy. Shall I live to see
thee again ? I mentally turn my eyes back, and
once more behold Rome and Naples and Venice,
the three Graces, or rather the three Supreme
Deities, presiding over Sky, Lower Regions, and
Sea, Jupiter, Pluto, and Neptune. My imagination
once more revels in the poetic beauties and golden
sunshine ; my heart —
" Glowing and circumfused with speechless love "
for the land, which will ever have for me a
charm beyond any other, for reasons I have
explained, and others I cannot here explain, as I
do not wear this heart of mine on my sleeve — gives
one great sigh, and utters a faint " Farewell."
Pursuing our road, and, of course, constantly
ascending, we reach a height where the rain is
turned into snow, which is falling fast. Eventually
we come to the village of Simplon, where the
diligence halts for half-an-hour, pour dejeil?ier, as
the conductor facetiously puts it. Though it has
been snowing here all day, we, — that is to say,
two American ladies and a little girl, who occupy
the interior of the diligence, and myself, — are
shown into a large room, where a few damp
logs of wood have only just been lighted in the
z 2

340 ROBA D' ITALIA.
chimney, diffusing more smoke than heat. We
ask for some soup, very hot ; but when, after some
delay, it is brought, it is scarcely lukewarm. This
again is the much- vaunted Swiss hotel management !
And , though this be not a hotel, but a humble
inn, yet it is a posting-station, the diligence is
expected, and of course travellers with it, for
whom some preparation ought to be made.
However, the ladies and I make a virtue of
necessity, and bear the ills that we know of
philosophically, happily unconscious of those that
are to follow. As there is room in the interior
of the diligence, I take my seat there, as the
coupe by this time has grown rather too cold
and damp. We start again; the ladies, after
having almost concealed me under a pile of
shawls, rugs, and mysterious bundles, "guess"
I shall be pretty comfortable; but I "calculate"
the comfort won't last long, as we shall presently
have to turn out, and take our seats in open
sledges, for all hope of accomplishing the journey
throughout in the diligence is over now. The
snow is coming down faster and faster; the
wheels of the diligence are clogged with it, and
the whole carriage has occasionally to be shaken

THE SIMPLON. 341
to clear them of some of it. Before long,
in a lonely part of the road, we descry a few
low small sledges without any covering what
ever, and of course full of snow. Our vehicle
stops, the conductor politely informs us that here
we must get out of our comfortable retreat, and
pursue our journey in a sledge, as the snow is
now too deep for the diligence to proceed any
further, but that in about half-an-hour we shall
have passed the worst part of the road, and
that at the other end of this via mcda another
diligence is waiting for us.
Well, there is no help for it; we alight and
get into a sledge, which has hastily been cleared
from the snow that encumbered it, but which
is refilling as fast as it is emptied; the cushions
are wet, and it is a sort of feat to sit down on
a rug before it is white with snow. At last we
are seated, the ladies, with the child between
them, facing the horses, and I facing the snow,
which is beating right in my face, and, as I
turn sideways to avoid it, immediately dodges
round, and meets me from a new quarter. Whilst
thus pleasantly situated, I have the satisfaction
of seeing my luggage brought down from the top

342 ROBA D' ITALIA.
of the diligence, and placed on the cold ground
in the snow, which soon covers it entirely, whilst
the men are clearing out a sledge for receiving
it, and slowly deliberating how it is to be placed.
Well, this operation is at last accomplished, and
the conductor gives the word of command to start.
There are four sledges; the ladies and I are
unfortunately placed in the first, which has to
clear the way for the others; then comes the
sledge with the luggage, and, lastly, two others,
occupied by four or five Italians, who had joined
us at the village of Simplon.
But to start is not so easy; the sledges are
frozen to the ground, which is every instant
becoming more thickly covered with snow, so
that the horses have to make immense efforts
to advance, and during those efforts one of them
falls, and is some time before he is up again.
Eventually, however, we do start, and very soon
find ourselves between high walls of snow on
either side, where a way had been cut through
days ago. This is very well, and, all considered,
we might be pretty comfortable, though we have
not rugs enough to cover ourselves well in, so
that we are like angels seated on fleecy clouds,

THE SIMPLON. 343
and our feet are in a sludge of dissolved snow,
while the sleigh is occasionally thrown on *>ne
side, and we make gigantic impressions on the
soft wall on our left — a wall, however, which
protects us from the precipice beyond it. But
when this wall ceases, and we find the road cut
out for us to be scarcely wider than the sledge
itself, and as close as possible to the precipice,
because it made the throwing down of the snow
easier, matters begin to look a little serious.
As we are being driven along as fast as it is
possible, on a road where men have to go in
front of the sledges to clear away with spades as
much snow as they can, and yet the horses can
scarcely get along, stumbling at almost every
step, as snowballs form under their hoofs, we
have the abyss, many hundred feet deep, con
stantly to our left, and feel that the fall of the
shaft-horse, or a sudden swerve or upsetting of
the sledge, such as we have already experienced
several times, would launch us into eternity before
we wished to go there. The ladies naturally are
very uneasy, and, to quiet them, I have to give
constant directions to the driver to be careful,
and keep to the right — the side of the mountain,

344 ROBA d' ITALIA.
or rather snow wall, in some places ten to twelve
fee* high. I know the driver will take no more
notice of my admonitions than of the wind ; still,
my giving them quiets the ladies, and that is
satisfactory — to them, but not to me ; for, my back
being to the horses, I have to sit sideways in a
cramped position, and cannot protect myself against
the thickly falling snow. I register a mental vow
not to travel with "unprotected females" again.
One lady companion is enough in travelling, and
then you must take an interest in her. The little
girl, unconscious of the danger, lies very quiet and
warmly wrapped up between mother and sister.
As the sledge, whenever it went over, did so on
the side of the precipice, we got a man to stand
on the inner bar, so as to weight the sledge more
on that side, though even then it once or twice
tilted over a good deal.
We reach one of the Refuges, the seventh,
counting them from Brieg, where all the drivers,
snow-shovellers, hangers-on, and Italian travellers
alight and refresh themselves with strong drink,
whilst we, the ladies and myself, are literally
left out in the cold, nearly long enough to be
snowed up altogether. It requires a pull, a strong

THE SIMPLON. 345
pull, and a pull altogether, to set us moving
again, and after some time we arrive opposite
the New Hospice. Of the beautiful view to be
obtained here on a fine day, we of course see
nothing, the snow is falling so thickly ; but we
are allowed all the time necessary for admiring
the landscape, if it were visible, for everybody
again, except ourselves, alights and enters the
hospice to liquor up, as the American ladies
guess, though the conductor, on my remonstrating
with him for keeping us waiting so long in such
weather, says he has to deliver and call for letters.
What business have monks with worldly corre
spondence ? Moreover, none of the monks shows
himself, and even the dogs prefer staying indoors
by the fire.
We start at last, and as we approach the highest
part of the pass, our advance becomes more and
more difficult. The large wooden cross, which
indicates the culminating point, is not visible ;
the extensive prospect also obtained here on a
fine day is non-existent for us ; the winding-sheet
of snow covers the ground, and the air is thick
with flakes as large as five-shilling pieces, though
We can see by the windings of the road the

346 ROBA D' ITALIA.
dangerous precipices we have yet to pass. But
we are now at about the worst point, where we
are most threatened by avalanches, and, in fact,
as if to justify its reputation, we are nearly over
whelmed by one. At a little distance ahead we
see the entrance to the gallery of the glacier
Kaltwasser; but before we are able to reach it,
and as our sledge, which, as I have said, is the
first, is going as fast as the horses can get on,
we see an avalanche sliding down the smooth
rock on our right. It is too late to avoid it by
stopping, it is impossible to go back ; the driver
therefore whips his horses, shouts, and swears at
them — the latter he has been doing all along —
we rush by, but receive a considerable quantity
of the mass of snow coming down into our sledge.
And in urging on the horses, and trying to
escape the Chary bdis of the avalanche, the driver
has nearly cast us into the Scylla of the abyss,
for he has gone so near the edge, here bordering
a steep precipice, that at one moment I really
think we must go down. We just hold on by
our eyelashes, or the skin of our teeth, as the
saying is ; the horses make one more bound, and
with a tremendous jerk against the rocky portal,

THE SIMPLON. 347
which nearly upsets the sledge, land us in the
gallery. We are safe, and through one of the
side openings have an opportunity of admiring the
cascade which falls down without, and has here
formed gigantic icicles, and a screen of the most
beautifully translucent ice.
After emerging from the tunnel, and having
gone a little further, we descry, much to our
satisfaction, far ahead yet, it is true, the diligence
that is to take us on to Brieg. We pass another
uncomfortable quarter of an hour, and, at the
end of a three hours' ride in the sledge, arrive
at the diligence. We think our trials over; but
you may sink in sight of port, as many a toper
of the past generation did under the table, whilst
the bottle was still half full upon it. Just as I
think we are going to stop, one of the ladies
exclaims, " Good heavens, the horse is going
over ! " and on turning round to see, truly there
was the leader with his forefeet close upon the
edge of the precipice ; one step more, and he
would have been down. The driver, who, instead
of looking at his team, has been "chaffing" with
the other men, sees the danger in time, and pulls
his horse back.

348 ROBA D' ITALIA.
But, as if drivers and conductors and stable
men delighted in making things as unpleasant as
possible for travellers, we find the diligence itself
placed as close as possible to the precipice. Sup
posing that in setting it in motion it should
accidentally make a backward move, the off hind
wheel will certainly be a wheel off the road, and
as the weight of the vehicle rests on the hind
wheel, when one of them loses its support, the
whole machine will tumble down into the abyss.
It is true, we do not become aware of this
pleasant fact till the ladies and I are seated in
the interior of the diligence. I point it out to
the conductor, who, of course, says there is not
the slightest danger. Some people, especially
those whose duty it is to prevent danger, never
admit the existence of danger, and think you a
fool for assuming it ; and when the misfortune
happens, they say, " Who would have thought it ? "
and declare it is quite exceptional. Talk to an
engineer of a boiler, he insists on placing close
to your house, blowing up, and he will ridicule
the notion of his boiler blowing up. When it
does blow up, all he says is, that he cannot
understand it; " and, of course," he adds, in spite

THE SIMPLON. 349
of what he told you before, " you know boilers
will blow up occasionally." If I were a law
maker, I should render all such boasters and de
ceivers, for they are nothing else, not only civilly,
but also criminally, responsible. However, this
is a digression — a thing quite unusual with me !
When our sledge was safely landed behind
the diligence, we gathered together our parcels
and packages. I fished my leather-bag and
Murray — the latter a mass of pulp — out of the
snow and water at the bottom of the sledge, and
entered the diligence, into which the ladies had
preceded me. But then the little girl began to
cry, "My cat! my cat!" This cry of distress
referred to a toy, which was supposed to represent
a cat, and which the child, when she fell asleep
in her mother's lap, had dropped into the profound
abyss of the sledge, where, indeed, it was found
by one of the men, whom I told to search for it.
When fished up, it looked exactly like a drowned
kitten ; but the child was as delighted with it as is a
woman with one of those ugly things called babies,
or a gent with a foully-smelling, blackened pipe.
But, after all, the cat came to an ignominious
end, The girl loved the cat much, but the

350 ROBA D' ITALIA.
mother loved the girl more, and did not think
it consistent with her or the child's dignity,
that she should carry about with her so dis
reputable-looking a cat. And it did look dis
reputable, with one of its eyes knocked out, its
white face besmeared with dirt, its coat all wet,
and partly scraped off, its flattened tail hanging
on by a thread, its squeaking apparatus destroyed,
and two of the wheels on which it went irre
trievably lost. Hence, after a deal of useless
coaxing to throw it away to please her mother —
the Spirit of Evil growing more powerful in the
child's soul than the Spirit of Good — the
little girl was at last induced to part with it
by shying it, as she called it, at a big dog we
met at the next Refuge, to see how he would
worry the cat. But it fell unheeded in the
snow, and, if not gone, is still there. Probably,
on the melting of the snow, it was found by
some Helvetian child, who dreamt not that this
weather-beaten, shrivelled-up kitten, the unin
tentional gift of an American child, formed, as
it were, a sort of connecting link between the
two most famous Republics of the Old and the
New World respectively.

THE SIMPLON. 351
But we have just taken our seats in the
diligence. What becomes of our Italian fellow
travellers, we neither know nor care. The con
ductor and another man place themselves by
the side of the hind wheel nearest the precipice,
the horses, which in the mean time have been
harnessed to the vehicle, give a pull, and we
are safe in the middle of the road. And now
begins a headlong, helter-skelter, downward race,
without skid or brake. Our four horses are driven
down the long zig-zags, rushing past precipices,
cataracts, and glaciers, thundering over bridges ;
the diligence sometimes leaning dangerously to
one side, sometimes making terrific leaps over
stones fallen from the heights above, and thumping
and bumping us four mortals in the interior to
make us lose sight and hearing. The former,
indeed, we may say we have abandoned altogether,
for without it is still snowing fast, and within our
damp clothes are steaming away, and enveloping
us in a Russian vapour bath, quite in keeping
with the Russian scenery without.
But the dangers of the road, and the inclemency
of the weather, exist for us no longer, for we
see them not; and like the Children of Hameln

352 ROBA D' ITALIA.
in the Cave, in which they await the Spring,
we enjoy peace and security in the interior of
the diligence, and have leisure to indulge in
severe and cutting remarks on the perfection of
Swiss Government management, which compels
travellers, in a violent snowstorm, to change
from a diligence into an uncovered sledge, with
its bottom full of snow and its seats all wet,
and without coverings of leather or wood to
prevent the snow from accumulating in your lap,
and between your feet.
As the spot where the change takes place
depends on the state of the road, a fixed building
is out of the question ; but nothing would be
easier than to have a movable shed, of the
lightest construction, under which the sledges
could be placed and you could take your seats.
I will not dispute the accuracy of what the con
ductor told me, namely, that covered sledges were
found impracticable in consequence of their weight
and liability to be upset ; that, in fact, the
difficulties attending their use were so great that,
though a number of them had actually been built
for the Simplon route, they had, after two or
three attempts, to be given up. But I suppose an

THE SIMPLON. 353
improved mode of constructing the sledges might
overcome that difficulty ; and I also know,
from inquiries I made, that since the opening of
the Mont Cenis tunnel, the Simplon has been
very much neglected by the Swiss authorities.
Travellers, therefore, unless they are prepared to
incur inconvenience and risk, had better not select
that route except in very favourable weather.
But here we are at Brieg; it is nearly seven
o'clock, so that it has taken us ten hours and a
half to cross the Simplon. It is still snowing
fast, and the ladies, who had originally intended
to go on with the diligence as far as Sierre
where the first railway station of the Rhone
valley is, determine to stay here for the night
to recover from the discomforts of the passage.
On alighting, we are met by the master of the
Hotel des Anglais, a very comfortable house ; and
soon we make the chimneys crack and blaze
again with roaring fires, before which we change
our damp clothes, and then sit down to a riotous
tea, where the adventures of the day are dis
cussed and commented on in a highly intelligent
and philosophical manner. But though I remind
them of Virgil's line — when you tell people of apy^
VOL. II. 2 A

354 ROBA D' ITALIA.
thing you are sure will be quite new to them, you
only remind them of it —
" — forsan et hsec olim meminisse juvabit,"
yet the ladies heave a sigh or two over the damage
done to a very pretty hat, that had nothing but a
thin paper-bag to protect it against the snow and
danger of being crushed ; the child wipes away a
tear, that will spring up to the memory of the cat
which met with an untimely fate " on the Alpine
mountains cold," as Milton, whom everybody
praises, but nobody reads, hath it ; and I grieve at
the loss of the grand views the Simplon offers on
a fine day, but grow particularly sad when the
conviction forces itself upon me that I am now no
longer in Italy.
Yes, I am out of Italy, and my task is ended.
Italy, the land beyond the mountains, was to be
my theme ; what I saw, felt, and thought on the
territory beyond the horn and ivory gates of
the Mont Cenis and Simplon, between the tunnels
of Mont Frejus and Posilippo, that I meant to
describe, and no more. And herewith, Reader,
FAREWELL.

tRINTED BY E. J. FRANCIS, TOOKS COURT, CHANCERY LAKE, E.C.