diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 650-0.txt | 7137 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 650-0.zip | bin | 0 -> 176620 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 650-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 1420431 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 650-h/650-h.htm | 7872 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 650-h/images/p218b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 380722 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 650-h/images/p218s.jpg | bin | 0 -> 35272 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 650-h/images/p250b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 211328 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 650-h/images/p250s.jpg | bin | 0 -> 31700 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 650-h/images/p294b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 268842 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 650-h/images/p294s.jpg | bin | 0 -> 37149 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 650-h/images/p326b.jpg | bin | 0 -> 245323 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 650-h/images/p326s.jpg | bin | 0 -> 32937 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/picit10.txt | 7567 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/picit10.zip | bin | 0 -> 175350 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/picit10h.htm | 7231 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/picit10h.zip | bin | 0 -> 175910 bytes |
19 files changed, 29823 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/650-0.txt b/650-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ee1f670 --- /dev/null +++ b/650-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7137 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Pictures from Italy, by Charles Dickens, +Illustrated by Marcus Stone + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Pictures from Italy + + +Author: Charles Dickens + + + +Release Date: February 17, 2013 [eBook #650] +[This file was first posted on September 17, 1996] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PICTURES FROM ITALY*** + + +Transcribed from the 1913 Chapman & Hall, Ltd. edition by David Price, +email ccx074@pglaf.org + + + + + + AMERICAN NOTES + FOR + GENERAL CIRCULATION {1} + AND + PICTURES FROM ITALY + + + BY + CHARLES DICKENS + + * * * * * + + WITH 8 ILLUSTRATIONS BY + MARCUS STONE, R.A. + + * * * * * + + LONDON + CHAPMAN & HALL, LTD. + 1913 + + * * * * * + + + + +CONTENTS + +The Reader’s Passport 215 +Going through France 218 +Lyons, the Rhone, and the Goblin of Avignon 225 +Avignon to Genoa 233 +Genoa and its Neighbourhood 238 +To Parma, Modena, and Bologna 264 +Through Bologna and Ferrara 272 +An Italian Dream 277 +By Verona, Mantua, and Milan, across the Pass of the Simplon 284 +into Switzerland +To Rome by Pisa and Siena 297 +Rome 308 +A Rapid Diorama 345 + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + +CIVIL AND MILITARY _Marcus Stone_, _R.A._ 218 +ITALIAN PEASANTS ,, ,, ,, 250 +THE CHIFFONIER ,, ,, ,, 294 +IN THE CATACOMBS ,, ,, ,, 326 + + + + +THE READER’S PASSPORT + + +IF the readers of this volume will be so kind as to take their +credentials for the different places which are the subject of its +author’s reminiscences, from the Author himself, perhaps they may visit +them, in fancy, the more agreeably, and with a better understanding of +what they are to expect. + +Many books have been written upon Italy, affording many means of studying +the history of that interesting country, and the innumerable associations +entwined about it. I make but little reference to that stock of +information; not at all regarding it as a necessary consequence of my +having had recourse to the storehouse for my own benefit, that I should +reproduce its easily accessible contents before the eyes of my readers. + +Neither will there be found, in these pages, any grave examination into +the government or misgovernment of any portion of the country. No +visitor of that beautiful land can fail to have a strong conviction on +the subject; but as I chose when residing there, a Foreigner, to abstain +from the discussion of any such questions with any order of Italians, so +I would rather not enter on the inquiry now. During my twelve months’ +occupation of a house at Genoa, I never found that authorities +constitutionally jealous were distrustful of me; and I should be sorry to +give them occasion to regret their free courtesy, either to myself or any +of my countrymen. + +There is, probably, not a famous Picture or Statue in all Italy, but +could be easily buried under a mountain of printed paper devoted to +dissertations on it. I do not, therefore, though an earnest admirer of +Painting and Sculpture, expatiate at any length on famous Pictures and +Statues. + +This Book is a series of faint reflections—mere shadows in the water—of +places to which the imaginations of most people are attracted in a +greater or less degree, on which mine had dwelt for years, and which have +some interest for all. The greater part of the descriptions were written +on the spot, and sent home, from time to time, in private letters. I do +not mention the circumstance as an excuse for any defects they may +present, for it would be none; but as a guarantee to the Reader that they +were at least penned in the fulness of the subject, and with the +liveliest impressions of novelty and freshness. + +If they have ever a fanciful and idle air, perhaps the reader will +suppose them written in the shade of a Sunny Day, in the midst of the +objects of which they treat, and will like them none the worse for having +such influences of the country upon them. + +I hope I am not likely to be misunderstood by Professors of the Roman +Catholic faith, on account of anything contained in these pages. I have +done my best, in one of my former productions, to do justice to them; and +I trust, in this, they will do justice to me. When I mention any +exhibition that impressed me as absurd or disagreeable, I do not seek to +connect it, or recognise it as necessarily connected with, any essentials +of their creed. When I treat of the ceremonies of the Holy Week, I +merely treat of their effect, and do not challenge the good and learned +Dr. Wiseman’s interpretation of their meaning. When I hint a dislike of +nunneries for young girls who abjure the world before they have ever +proved or known it; or doubt the _ex officio_ sanctity of all Priests and +Friars; I do no more than many conscientious Catholics both abroad and at +home. + +I have likened these Pictures to shadows in the water, and would fain +hope that I have, nowhere, stirred the water so roughly, as to mar the +shadows. I could never desire to be on better terms with all my friends +than now, when distant mountains rise, once more, in my path. For I need +not hesitate to avow, that, bent on correcting a brief mistake I made, +not long ago, in disturbing the old relations between myself and my +readers, and departing for a moment from my old pursuits, I am about to +resume them, joyfully, in Switzerland; where during another year of +absence, I can at once work out the themes I have now in my mind, without +interruption: and while I keep my English audience within speaking +distance, extend my knowledge of a noble country, inexpressibly +attractive to me. {216} + +This book is made as accessible as possible, because it would be a great +pleasure to me if I could hope, through its means, to compare impressions +with some among the multitudes who will hereafter visit the scenes +described with interest and delight. + +And I have only now, in passport wise, to sketch my reader’s portrait, +which I hope may be thus supposititiously traced for either sex: + +Complexion Fair. +Eyes Very cheerful. +Nose Not supercilious. +Mouth Smiling. +Visage Beaming. +General Expression Extremely agreeable. + +GOING THROUGH FRANCE + + +ON a fine Sunday morning in the Midsummer time and weather of eighteen +hundred and forty-four, it was, my good friend, when—don’t be alarmed; +not when two travellers might have been observed slowly making their way +over that picturesque and broken ground by which the first chapter of a +Middle Aged novel is usually attained—but when an English +travelling-carriage of considerable proportions, fresh from the shady +halls of the Pantechnicon near Belgrave Square, London, was observed (by +a very small French soldier; for I saw him look at it) to issue from the +gate of the Hôtel Meurice in the Rue Rivoli at Paris. + +I am no more bound to explain why the English family travelling by this +carriage, inside and out, should be starting for Italy on a Sunday +morning, of all good days in the week, than I am to assign a reason for +all the little men in France being soldiers, and all the big men +postilions; which is the invariable rule. But, they had some sort of +reason for what they did, I have no doubt; and their reason for being +there at all, was, as you know, that they were going to live in fair +Genoa for a year; and that the head of the family purposed, in that space +of time, to stroll about, wherever his restless humour carried him. + +And it would have been small comfort to me to have explained to the +population of Paris generally, that I was that Head and Chief; and not +the radiant embodiment of good humour who sat beside me in the person of +a French Courier—best of servants and most beaming of men! Truth to say, +he looked a great deal more patriarchal than I, who, in the shadow of his +portly presence, dwindled down to no account at all. + + [Picture: Civil and military] + +There was, of course, very little in the aspect of Paris—as we rattled +near the dismal Morgue and over the Pont Neuf—to reproach us for our +Sunday travelling. The wine-shops (every second house) were driving a +roaring trade; awnings were spreading, and chairs and tables arranging, +outside the cafés, preparatory to the eating of ices, and drinking of +cool liquids, later in the day; shoe-blacks were busy on the bridges; +shops were open; carts and waggons clattered to and fro; the narrow, +up-hill, funnel-like streets across the River, were so many dense +perspectives of crowd and bustle, parti-coloured nightcaps, +tobacco-pipes, blouses, large boots, and shaggy heads of hair; nothing at +that hour denoted a day of rest, unless it were the appearance, here and +there, of a family pleasure-party, crammed into a bulky old lumbering +cab; or of some contemplative holiday-maker in the freest and easiest +dishabille, leaning out of a low garret window, watching the drying of +his newly polished shoes on the little parapet outside (if a gentleman), +or the airing of her stockings in the sun (if a lady), with calm +anticipation. + +Once clear of the never-to-be-forgotten-or-forgiven pavement which +surrounds Paris, the first three days of travelling towards Marseilles +are quiet and monotonous enough. To Sens. To Avallon. To Chalons. A +sketch of one day’s proceedings is a sketch of all three; and here it is. + +We have four horses, and one postilion, who has a very long whip, and +drives his team, something like the Courier of Saint Petersburgh in the +circle at Astley’s or Franconi’s: only he sits his own horse instead of +standing on him. The immense jack-boots worn by these postilions, are +sometimes a century or two old; and are so ludicrously disproportionate +to the wearer’s foot, that the spur, which is put where his own heel +comes, is generally halfway up the leg of the boots. The man often comes +out of the stable-yard, with his whip in his hand and his shoes on, and +brings out, in both hands, one boot at a time, which he plants on the +ground by the side of his horse, with great gravity, until everything is +ready. When it is—and oh Heaven! the noise they make about it!—he gets +into the boots, shoes and all, or is hoisted into them by a couple of +friends; adjusts the rope harness, embossed by the labours of innumerable +pigeons in the stables; makes all the horses kick and plunge; cracks his +whip like a madman; shouts ‘En route—Hi!’ and away we go. He is sure to +have a contest with his horse before we have gone very far; and then he +calls him a Thief, and a Brigand, and a Pig, and what not; and beats him +about the head as if he were made of wood. + +There is little more than one variety in the appearance of the country, +for the first two days. From a dreary plain, to an interminable avenue, +and from an interminable avenue to a dreary plain again. Plenty of vines +there are in the open fields, but of a short low kind, and not trained in +festoons, but about straight sticks. Beggars innumerable there are, +everywhere; but an extraordinarily scanty population, and fewer children +than I ever encountered. I don’t believe we saw a hundred children +between Paris and Chalons. Queer old towns, draw-bridged and walled: +with odd little towers at the angles, like grotesque faces, as if the +wall had put a mask on, and were staring down into the moat; other +strange little towers, in gardens and fields, and down lanes, and in +farm-yards: all alone, and always round, with a peaked roof, and never +used for any purpose at all; ruinous buildings of all sorts; sometimes an +hôtel de ville, sometimes a guard-house, sometimes a dwelling-house, +sometimes a château with a rank garden, prolific in dandelion, and +watched over by extinguisher-topped turrets, and blink-eyed little +casements; are the standard objects, repeated over and over again. +Sometimes we pass a village inn, with a crumbling wall belonging to it, +and a perfect town of out-houses; and painted over the gateway, ‘Stabling +for Sixty Horses;’ as indeed there might be stabling for sixty score, +were there any horses to be stabled there, or anybody resting there, or +anything stirring about the place but a dangling bush, indicative of the +wine inside: which flutters idly in the wind, in lazy keeping with +everything else, and certainly is never in a green old age, though always +so old as to be dropping to pieces. And all day long, strange little +narrow waggons, in strings of six or eight, bringing cheese from +Switzerland, and frequently in charge, the whole line, of one man, or +even boy—and he very often asleep in the foremost cart—come jingling +past: the horses drowsily ringing the bells upon their harness, and +looking as if they thought (no doubt they do) their great blue woolly +furniture, of immense weight and thickness, with a pair of grotesque +horns growing out of the collar, very much too warm for the Midsummer +weather. + +Then, there is the Diligence, twice or thrice a-day; with the dusty +outsides in blue frocks, like butchers; and the insides in white +nightcaps; and its cabriolet head on the roof, nodding and shaking, like +an idiot’s head; and its Young-France passengers staring out of window, +with beards down to their waists, and blue spectacles awfully shading +their warlike eyes, and very big sticks clenched in their National grasp. +Also the Malle Poste, with only a couple of passengers, tearing along at +a real good dare-devil pace, and out of sight in no time. Steady old +Curés come jolting past, now and then, in such ramshackle, rusty, musty, +clattering coaches as no Englishman would believe in; and bony women +dawdle about in solitary places, holding cows by ropes while they feed, +or digging and hoeing or doing field-work of a more laborious kind, or +representing real shepherdesses with their flocks—to obtain an adequate +idea of which pursuit and its followers, in any country, it is only +necessary to take any pastoral poem, or picture, and imagine to yourself +whatever is most exquisitely and widely unlike the descriptions therein +contained. + +You have been travelling along, stupidly enough, as you generally do in +the last stage of the day; and the ninety-six bells upon the +horses—twenty-four apiece—have been ringing sleepily in your ears for +half an hour or so; and it has become a very jog-trot, monotonous, +tiresome sort of business; and you have been thinking deeply about the +dinner you will have at the next stage; when, down at the end of the long +avenue of trees through which you are travelling, the first indication of +a town appears, in the shape of some straggling cottages: and the +carriage begins to rattle and roll over a horribly uneven pavement. As +if the equipage were a great firework, and the mere sight of a smoking +cottage chimney had lighted it, instantly it begins to crack and +splutter, as if the very devil were in it. Crack, crack, crack, crack. +Crack-crack-crack. Crick-crack. Crick-crack. Helo! Hola! Vite! +Voleur! Brigand! Hi hi hi! En r-r-r-r-r-route! Whip, wheels, driver, +stones, beggars, children, crack, crack, crack; helo! hola! charité pour +l’amour de Dieu! crick-crack-crick-crack; crick, crick, crick; bump, +jolt, crack, bump, crick-crack; round the corner, up the narrow street, +down the paved hill on the other side; in the gutter; bump, bump; jolt, +jog, crick, crick, crick; crack, crack, crack; into the shop-windows on +the left-hand side of the street, preliminary to a sweeping turn into the +wooden archway on the right; rumble, rumble, rumble; clatter, clatter, +clatter; crick, crick, crick; and here we are in the yard of the Hôtel de +l’Ecu d’Or; used up, gone out, smoking, spent, exhausted; but sometimes +making a false start unexpectedly, with nothing coming of it—like a +firework to the last! + +The landlady of the Hôtel de l’Ecu d’Or is here; and the landlord of the +Hôtel de l’Ecu d’Or is here; and the femme de chambre of the Hôtel de +l’Ecu d’Or is here; and a gentleman in a glazed cap, with a red beard +like a bosom friend, who is staying at the Hôtel de l’Ecu d’Or, is here; +and Monsieur le Curé is walking up and down in a corner of the yard by +himself, with a shovel hat upon his head, and a black gown on his back, +and a book in one hand, and an umbrella in the other; and everybody, +except Monsieur le Curé, is open-mouthed and open-eyed, for the opening +of the carriage-door. The landlord of the Hôtel de l’Ecu d’Or, dotes to +that extent upon the Courier, that he can hardly wait for his coming down +from the box, but embraces his very legs and boot-heels as he descends. +‘My Courier! My brave Courier! My friend! My brother!’ The landlady +loves him, the femme de chambre blesses him, the garçon worships him. +The Courier asks if his letter has been received? It has, it has. Are +the rooms prepared? They are, they are. The best rooms for my noble +Courier. The rooms of state for my gallant Courier; the whole house is +at the service of my best of friends! He keeps his hand upon the +carriage-door, and asks some other question to enhance the expectation. +He carries a green leathern purse outside his coat, suspended by a belt. +The idlers look at it; one touches it. It is full of five-franc pieces. +Murmurs of admiration are heard among the boys. The landlord falls upon +the Courier’s neck, and folds him to his breast. He is so much fatter +than he was, he says! He looks so rosy and so well! + +The door is opened. Breathless expectation. The lady of the family gets +out. Ah sweet lady! Beautiful lady! The sister of the lady of the +family gets out. Great Heaven, Ma’amselle is charming! First little boy +gets out. Ah, what a beautiful little boy! First little girl gets out. +Oh, but this is an enchanting child! Second little girl gets out. The +landlady, yielding to the finest impulse of our common nature, catches +her up in her arms! Second little boy gets out. Oh, the sweet boy! Oh, +the tender little family! The baby is handed out. Angelic baby! The +baby has topped everything. All the rapture is expended on the baby! +Then the two nurses tumble out; and the enthusiasm swelling into madness, +the whole family are swept up-stairs as on a cloud; while the idlers +press about the carriage, and look into it, and walk round it, and touch +it. For it is something to touch a carriage that has held so many +people. It is a legacy to leave one’s children. + +The rooms are on the first floor, except the nursery for the night, which +is a great rambling chamber, with four or five beds in it: through a dark +passage, up two steps, down four, past a pump, across a balcony, and next +door to the stable. The other sleeping apartments are large and lofty; +each with two small bedsteads, tastefully hung, like the windows, with +red and white drapery. The sitting-room is famous. Dinner is already +laid in it for three; and the napkins are folded in cocked-hat fashion. +The floors are of red tile. There are no carpets, and not much furniture +to speak of; but there is abundance of looking-glass, and there are large +vases under glass shades, filled with artificial flowers; and there are +plenty of clocks. The whole party are in motion. The brave Courier, in +particular, is everywhere: looking after the beds, having wine poured +down his throat by his dear brother the landlord, and picking up green +cucumbers—always cucumbers; Heaven knows where he gets them—with which he +walks about, one in each hand, like truncheons. + +Dinner is announced. There is very thin soup; there are very large +loaves—one apiece; a fish; four dishes afterwards; some poultry +afterwards; a dessert afterwards; and no lack of wine. There is not much +in the dishes; but they are very good, and always ready instantly. When +it is nearly dark, the brave Courier, having eaten the two cucumbers, +sliced up in the contents of a pretty large decanter of oil, and another +of vinegar, emerges from his retreat below, and proposes a visit to the +Cathedral, whose massive tower frowns down upon the court-yard of the +inn. Off we go; and very solemn and grand it is, in the dim light: so +dim at last, that the polite, old, lanthorn-jawed Sacristan has a feeble +little bit of candle in his hand, to grope among the tombs with—and looks +among the grim columns, very like a lost ghost who is searching for his +own. + +Underneath the balcony, when we return, the inferior servants of the inn +are supping in the open air, at a great table; the dish, a stew of meat +and vegetables, smoking hot, and served in the iron cauldron it was +boiled in. They have a pitcher of thin wine, and are very merry; merrier +than the gentleman with the red beard, who is playing billiards in the +light room on the left of the yard, where shadows, with cues in their +hands, and cigars in their mouths, cross and recross the window, +constantly. Still the thin Curé walks up and down alone, with his book +and umbrella. And there he walks, and there the billiard-balls rattle, +long after we are fast asleep. + +We are astir at six next morning. It is a delightful day, shaming +yesterday’s mud upon the carriage, if anything could shame a carriage, in +a land where carriages are never cleaned. Everybody is brisk; and as we +finish breakfast, the horses come jingling into the yard from the +Post-house. Everything taken out of the carriage is put back again. The +brave Courier announces that all is ready, after walking into every room, +and looking all round it, to be certain that nothing is left behind. +Everybody gets in. Everybody connected with the Hôtel de l’Ecu d’Or is +again enchanted. The brave Courier runs into the house for a parcel +containing cold fowl, sliced ham, bread, and biscuits, for lunch; hands +it into the coach; and runs back again. + +What has he got in his hand now? More cucumbers? No. A long strip of +paper. It’s the bill. + +The brave Courier has two belts on, this morning: one supporting the +purse: another, a mighty good sort of leathern bottle, filled to the +throat with the best light Bordeaux wine in the house. He never pays the +bill till this bottle is full. Then he disputes it. + +He disputes it now, violently. He is still the landlord’s brother, but +by another father or mother. He is not so nearly related to him as he +was last night. The landlord scratches his head. The brave Courier +points to certain figures in the bill, and intimates that if they remain +there, the Hôtel de l’Ecu d’Or is thenceforth and for ever an hôtel de +l’Ecu de cuivre. The landlord goes into a little counting-house. The +brave Courier follows, forces the bill and a pen into his hand, and talks +more rapidly than ever. The landlord takes the pen. The Courier smiles. +The landlord makes an alteration. The Courier cuts a joke. The landlord +is affectionate, but not weakly so. He bears it like a man. He shakes +hands with his brave brother, but he don’t hug him. Still, he loves his +brother; for he knows that he will be returning that way, one of these +fine days, with another family, and he foresees that his heart will yearn +towards him again. The brave Courier traverses all round the carriage +once, looks at the drag, inspects the wheels, jumps up, gives the word, +and away we go! + +It is market morning. The market is held in the little square outside in +front of the cathedral. It is crowded with men and women, in blue, in +red, in green, in white; with canvassed stalls; and fluttering +merchandise. The country people are grouped about, with their clean +baskets before them. Here, the lace-sellers; there, the butter and +egg-sellers; there, the fruit-sellers; there, the shoe-makers. The whole +place looks as if it were the stage of some great theatre, and the +curtain had just run up, for a picturesque ballet. And there is the +cathedral to boot: scene-like: all grim, and swarthy, and mouldering, and +cold: just splashing the pavement in one place with faint purple drops, +as the morning sun, entering by a little window on the eastern side, +struggles through some stained glass panes, on the western. + +In five minutes we have passed the iron cross, with a little ragged +kneeling-place of turf before it, in the outskirts of the town; and are +again upon the road. + + + + +LYONS, THE RHONE, AND THE GOBLIN OF AVIGNON + + +CHALONS is a fair resting-place, in right of its good inn on the bank of +the river, and the little steamboats, gay with green and red paint, that +come and go upon it: which make up a pleasant and refreshing scene, after +the dusty roads. But, unless you would like to dwell on an enormous +plain, with jagged rows of irregular poplars on it, that look in the +distance like so many combs with broken teeth: and unless you would like +to pass your life without the possibility of going up-hill, or going up +anything but stairs: you would hardly approve of Chalons as a place of +residence. + +You would probably like it better, however, than Lyons: which you may +reach, if you will, in one of the before-mentioned steamboats, in eight +hours. + +What a city Lyons is! Talk about people feeling, at certain unlucky +times, as if they had tumbled from the clouds! Here is a whole town that +is tumbled, anyhow, out of the sky; having been first caught up, like +other stones that tumble down from that region, out of fens and barren +places, dismal to behold! The two great streets through which the two +great rivers dash, and all the little streets whose name is Legion, were +scorching, blistering, and sweltering. The houses, high and vast, dirty +to excess, rotten as old cheeses, and as thickly peopled. All up the +hills that hem the city in, these houses swarm; and the mites inside were +lolling out of the windows, and drying their ragged clothes on poles, and +crawling in and out at the doors, and coming out to pant and gasp upon +the pavement, and creeping in and out among huge piles and bales of +fusty, musty, stifling goods; and living, or rather not dying till their +time should come, in an exhausted receiver. Every manufacturing town, +melted into one, would hardly convey an impression of Lyons as it +presented itself to me: for all the undrained, unscavengered qualities of +a foreign town, seemed grafted, there, upon the native miseries of a +manufacturing one; and it bears such fruit as I would go some miles out +of my way to avoid encountering again. + +In the cool of the evening: or rather in the faded heat of the day: we +went to see the Cathedral, where divers old women, and a few dogs, were +engaged in contemplation. There was no difference, in point of +cleanliness, between its stone pavement and that of the streets; and +there was a wax saint, in a little box like a berth aboard ship, with a +glass front to it, whom Madame Tussaud would have nothing to say to, on +any terms, and which even Westminster Abbey might be ashamed of. If you +would know all about the architecture of this church, or any other, its +dates, dimensions, endowments, and history, is it not written in Mr. +Murray’s Guide-Book, and may you not read it there, with thanks to him, +as I did! + +For this reason, I should abstain from mentioning the curious clock in +Lyons Cathedral, if it were not for a small mistake I made, in connection +with that piece of mechanism. The keeper of the church was very anxious +it should be shown; partly for the honour of the establishment and the +town; and partly, perhaps, because of his deriving a percentage from the +additional consideration. However that may be, it was set in motion, and +thereupon a host of little doors flew open, and innumerable little +figures staggered out of them, and jerked themselves back again, with +that special unsteadiness of purpose, and hitching in the gait, which +usually attaches to figures that are moved by clock-work. Meanwhile, the +Sacristan stood explaining these wonders, and pointing them out, +severally, with a wand. There was a centre puppet of the Virgin Mary; +and close to her, a small pigeon-hole, out of which another and a very +ill-looking puppet made one of the most sudden plunges I ever saw +accomplished: instantly flopping back again at sight of her, and banging +his little door violently after him. Taking this to be emblematic of the +victory over Sin and Death, and not at all unwilling to show that I +perfectly understood the subject, in anticipation of the showman, I +rashly said, ‘Aha! The Evil Spirit. To be sure. He is very soon +disposed of.’ ‘Pardon, Monsieur,’ said the Sacristan, with a polite +motion of his hand towards the little door, as if introducing +somebody—‘The Angel Gabriel!’ + +Soon after daybreak next morning, we were steaming down the Arrowy Rhone, +at the rate of twenty miles an hour, in a very dirty vessel full of +merchandise, and with only three or four other passengers for our +companions: among whom, the most remarkable was a silly, old, meek-faced, +garlic-eating, immeasurably polite Chevalier, with a dirty scrap of red +ribbon hanging at his button-hole, as if he had tied it there to remind +himself of something; as Tom Noddy, in the farce, ties knots in his +pocket-handkerchief. + +For the last two days, we had seen great sullen hills, the first +indications of the Alps, lowering in the distance. Now, we were rushing +on beside them: sometimes close beside them: sometimes with an +intervening slope, covered with vineyards. Villages and small towns +hanging in mid-air, with great woods of olives seen through the light +open towers of their churches, and clouds moving slowly on, upon the +steep acclivity behind them; ruined castles perched on every eminence; +and scattered houses in the clefts and gullies of the hills; made it very +beautiful. The great height of these, too, making the buildings look so +tiny, that they had all the charm of elegant models; their excessive +whiteness, as contrasted with the brown rocks, or the sombre, deep, dull, +heavy green of the olive-tree; and the puny size, and little slow walk of +the Lilliputian men and women on the bank; made a charming picture. +There were ferries out of number, too; bridges; the famous Pont d’Esprit, +with I don’t know how many arches; towns where memorable wines are made; +Vallence, where Napoleon studied; and the noble river, bringing at every +winding turn, new beauties into view. + +There lay before us, that same afternoon, the broken bridge of Avignon, +and all the city baking in the sun; yet with an under-done-pie-crust, +battlemented wall, that never will be brown, though it bake for +centuries. + +The grapes were hanging in clusters in the streets, and the brilliant +Oleander was in full bloom everywhere. The streets are old and very +narrow, but tolerably clean, and shaded by awnings stretched from house +to house. Bright stuffs and handkerchiefs, curiosities, ancient frames +of carved wood, old chairs, ghostly tables, saints, virgins, angels, and +staring daubs of portraits, being exposed for sale beneath, it was very +quaint and lively. All this was much set off, too, by the glimpses one +caught, through a rusty gate standing ajar, of quiet sleepy court-yards, +having stately old houses within, as silent as tombs. It was all very +like one of the descriptions in the Arabian Nights. The three one-eyed +Calenders might have knocked at any one of those doors till the street +rang again, and the porter who persisted in asking questions—the man who +had the delicious purchases put into his basket in the morning—might have +opened it quite naturally. + +After breakfast next morning, we sallied forth to see the lions. Such a +delicious breeze was blowing in, from the north, as made the walk +delightful: though the pavement-stones, and stones of the walls and +houses, were far too hot to have a hand laid on them comfortably. + +We went, first of all, up a rocky height, to the cathedral: where Mass +was performing to an auditory very like that of Lyons, namely, several +old women, a baby, and a very self-possessed dog, who had marked out for +himself a little course or platform for exercise, beginning at the +altar-rails and ending at the door, up and down which constitutional walk +he trotted, during the service, as methodically and calmly, as any old +gentleman out of doors. + +It is a bare old church, and the paintings in the roof are sadly defaced +by time and damp weather; but the sun was shining in, splendidly, through +the red curtains of the windows, and glittering on the altar furniture; +and it looked as bright and cheerful as need be. + +Going apart, in this church, to see some painting which was being +executed in fresco by a French artist and his pupil, I was led to observe +more closely than I might otherwise have done, a great number of votive +offerings with which the walls of the different chapels were profusely +hung. I will not say decorated, for they were very roughly and comically +got up; most likely by poor sign-painters, who eke out their living in +that way. They were all little pictures: each representing some sickness +or calamity from which the person placing it there, had escaped, through +the interposition of his or her patron saint, or of the Madonna; and I +may refer to them as good specimens of the class generally. They are +abundant in Italy. + +In a grotesque squareness of outline, and impossibility of perspective, +they are not unlike the woodcuts in old books; but they were +oil-paintings, and the artist, like the painter of the Primrose family, +had not been sparing of his colours. In one, a lady was having a toe +amputated—an operation which a saintly personage had sailed into the +room, upon a couch, to superintend. In another, a lady was lying in bed, +tucked up very tight and prim, and staring with much composure at a +tripod, with a slop-basin on it; the usual form of washing-stand, and the +only piece of furniture, besides the bedstead, in her chamber. One would +never have supposed her to be labouring under any complaint, beyond the +inconvenience of being miraculously wide awake, if the painter had not +hit upon the idea of putting all her family on their knees in one corner, +with their legs sticking out behind them on the floor, like boot-trees. +Above whom, the Virgin, on a kind of blue divan, promised to restore the +patient. In another case, a lady was in the very act of being run over, +immediately outside the city walls, by a sort of piano-forte van. But +the Madonna was there again. Whether the supernatural appearance had +startled the horse (a bay griffin), or whether it was invisible to him, I +don’t know; but he was galloping away, ding dong, without the smallest +reverence or compunction. On every picture ‘Ex voto’ was painted in +yellow capitals in the sky. + +Though votive offerings were not unknown in Pagan Temples, and are +evidently among the many compromises made between the false religion and +the true, when the true was in its infancy, I could wish that all the +other compromises were as harmless. Gratitude and Devotion are Christian +qualities; and a grateful, humble, Christian spirit may dictate the +observance. + +Hard by the cathedral stands the ancient Palace of the Popes, of which +one portion is now a common jail, and another a noisy barrack: while +gloomy suites of state apartments, shut up and deserted, mock their own +old state and glory, like the embalmed bodies of kings. But we neither +went there, to see state rooms, nor soldiers’ quarters, nor a common +jail, though we dropped some money into a prisoners’ box outside, whilst +the prisoners, themselves, looked through the iron bars, high up, and +watched us eagerly. We went to see the ruins of the dreadful rooms in +which the Inquisition used to sit. + +A little, old, swarthy woman, with a pair of flashing black eyes,—proof +that the world hadn’t conjured down the devil within her, though it had +had between sixty and seventy years to do it in,—came out of the Barrack +Cabaret, of which she was the keeper, with some large keys in her hands, +and marshalled us the way that we should go. How she told us, on the +way, that she was a Government Officer (_concierge du palais a +apostolique_), and had been, for I don’t know how many years; and how she +had shown these dungeons to princes; and how she was the best of dungeon +demonstrators; and how she had resided in the palace from an infant,—had +been born there, if I recollect right,—I needn’t relate. But such a +fierce, little, rapid, sparkling, energetic she-devil I never beheld. +She was alight and flaming, all the time. Her action was violent in the +extreme. She never spoke, without stopping expressly for the purpose. +She stamped her feet, clutched us by the arms, flung herself into +attitudes, hammered against walls with her keys, for mere emphasis: now +whispered as if the Inquisition were there still: now shrieked as if she +were on the rack herself; and had a mysterious, hag-like way with her +forefinger, when approaching the remains of some new horror—looking back +and walking stealthily, and making horrible grimaces—that might alone +have qualified her to walk up and down a sick man’s counterpane, to the +exclusion of all other figures, through a whole fever. + +Passing through the court-yard, among groups of idle soldiers, we turned +off by a gate, which this She-Goblin unlocked for our admission, and +locked again behind us: and entered a narrow court, rendered narrower by +fallen stones and heaps of rubbish; part of it choking up the mouth of a +ruined subterranean passage, that once communicated (or is said to have +done so) with another castle on the opposite bank of the river. Close to +this court-yard is a dungeon—we stood within it, in another minute—in the +dismal tower _des oubliettes_, where Rienzi was imprisoned, fastened by +an iron chain to the very wall that stands there now, but shut out from +the sky which now looks down into it. A few steps brought us to the +Cachots, in which the prisoners of the Inquisition were confined for +forty-eight hours after their capture, without food or drink, that their +constancy might be shaken, even before they were confronted with their +gloomy judges. The day has not got in there yet. They are still small +cells, shut in by four unyielding, close, hard walls; still profoundly +dark; still massively doored and fastened, as of old. + +Goblin, looking back as I have described, went softly on, into a vaulted +chamber, now used as a store-room: once the chapel of the Holy Office. +The place where the tribunal sat, was plain. The platform might have +been removed but yesterday. Conceive the parable of the Good Samaritan +having been painted on the wall of one of these Inquisition chambers! +But it was, and may be traced there yet. + +High up in the jealous wall, are niches where the faltering replies of +the accused were heard and noted down. Many of them had been brought out +of the very cell we had just looked into, so awfully; along the same +stone passage. We had trodden in their very footsteps. + +I am gazing round me, with the horror that the place inspires, when +Goblin clutches me by the wrist, and lays, not her skinny finger, but the +handle of a key, upon her lip. She invites me, with a jerk, to follow +her. I do so. She leads me out into a room adjoining—a rugged room, +with a funnel-shaped, contracting roof, open at the top, to the bright +day. I ask her what it is. She folds her arms, leers hideously, and +stares. I ask again. She glances round, to see that all the little +company are there; sits down upon a mound of stones; throws up her arms, +and yells out, like a fiend, ‘La Salle de la Question!’ + +The Chamber of Torture! And the roof was made of that shape to stifle +the victim’s cries! Oh Goblin, Goblin, let us think of this awhile, in +silence. Peace, Goblin! Sit with your short arms crossed on your short +legs, upon that heap of stones, for only five minutes, and then flame out +again. + +Minutes! Seconds are not marked upon the Palace clock, when, with her +eyes flashing fire, Goblin is up, in the middle of the chamber, +describing, with her sunburnt arms, a wheel of heavy blows. Thus it ran +round! cries Goblin. Mash, mash, mash! An endless routine of heavy +hammers. Mash, mash, mash! upon the sufferer’s limbs. See the stone +trough! says Goblin. For the water torture! Gurgle, swill, bloat, +burst, for the Redeemer’s honour! Suck the bloody rag, deep down into +your unbelieving body, Heretic, at every breath you draw! And when the +executioner plucks it out, reeking with the smaller mysteries of God’s +own Image, know us for His chosen servants, true believers in the Sermon +on the Mount, elect disciples of Him who never did a miracle but to heal: +who never struck a man with palsy, blindness, deafness, dumbness, +madness, any one affliction of mankind; and never stretched His blessed +hand out, but to give relief and ease! + +See! cries Goblin. There the furnace was. There they made the irons +red-hot. Those holes supported the sharp stake, on which the tortured +persons hung poised: dangling with their whole weight from the roof. +‘But;’ and Goblin whispers this; ‘Monsieur has heard of this tower? Yes? +Let Monsieur look down, then!’ + +A cold air, laden with an earthy smell, falls upon the face of Monsieur; +for she has opened, while speaking, a trap-door in the wall. Monsieur +looks in. Downward to the bottom, upward to the top, of a steep, dark, +lofty tower: very dismal, very dark, very cold. The Executioner of the +Inquisition, says Goblin, edging in her head to look down also, flung +those who were past all further torturing, down here. ‘But look! does +Monsieur see the black stains on the wall?’ A glance, over his shoulder, +at Goblin’s keen eye, shows Monsieur—and would without the aid of the +directing key—where they are. ‘What are they?’ ‘Blood!’ + +In October, 1791, when the Revolution was at its height here, sixty +persons: men and women (‘and priests,’ says Goblin, ‘priests’): were +murdered, and hurled, the dying and the dead, into this dreadful pit, +where a quantity of quick-lime was tumbled down upon their bodies. Those +ghastly tokens of the massacre were soon no more; but while one stone of +the strong building in which the deed was done, remains upon another, +there they will lie in the memories of men, as plain to see as the +splashing of their blood upon the wall is now. + +Was it a portion of the great scheme of Retribution, that the cruel deed +should be committed in this place! That a part of the atrocities and +monstrous institutions, which had been, for scores of years, at work, to +change men’s nature, should in its last service, tempt them with the +ready means of gratifying their furious and beastly rage! Should enable +them to show themselves, in the height of their frenzy, no worse than a +great, solemn, legal establishment, in the height of its power! No +worse! Much better. They used the Tower of the Forgotten, in the name +of Liberty—their liberty; an earth-born creature, nursed in the black mud +of the Bastile moats and dungeons, and necessarily betraying many +evidences of its unwholesome bringing-up—but the Inquisition used it in +the name of Heaven. + +Goblin’s finger is lifted; and she steals out again, into the Chapel of +the Holy Office. She stops at a certain part of the flooring. Her great +effect is at hand. She waits for the rest. She darts at the brave +Courier, who is explaining something; hits him a sounding rap on the hat +with the largest key; and bids him be silent. She assembles us all, +round a little trap-door in the floor, as round a grave. + +‘Voilà!’ she darts down at the ring, and flings the door open with a +crash, in her goblin energy, though it is no light weight. ‘Voilà les +oubliettes! Voilà les oubliettes! Subterranean! Frightful! Black! +Terrible! Deadly! Les oubliettes de l’Inquisition!’ + +My blood ran cold, as I looked from Goblin, down into the vaults, where +these forgotten creatures, with recollections of the world outside: of +wives, friends, children, brothers: starved to death, and made the stones +ring with their unavailing groans. But, the thrill I felt on seeing the +accursed wall below, decayed and broken through, and the sun shining in +through its gaping wounds, was like a sense of victory and triumph. I +felt exalted with the proud delight of living in these degenerate times, +to see it. As if I were the hero of some high achievement! The light in +the doleful vaults was typical of the light that has streamed in, on all +persecution in God’s name, but which is not yet at its noon! It cannot +look more lovely to a blind man newly restored to sight, than to a +traveller who sees it, calmly and majestically, treading down the +darkness of that Infernal Well. + + + + +AVIGNON TO GENOA + + +GOBLIN, having shown _les oubliettes_, felt that her great _coup_ was +struck. She let the door fall with a crash, and stood upon it with her +arms a-kimbo, sniffing prodigiously. + +When we left the place, I accompanied her into her house, under the outer +gateway of the fortress, to buy a little history of the building. Her +cabaret, a dark, low room, lighted by small windows, sunk in the thick +wall—in the softened light, and with its forge-like chimney; its little +counter by the door, with bottles, jars, and glasses on it; its household +implements and scraps of dress against the wall; and a sober-looking +woman (she must have a congenial life of it, with Goblin,) knitting at +the door—looked exactly like a picture by OSTADE. + +I walked round the building on the outside, in a sort of dream, and yet +with the delightful sense of having awakened from it, of which the light, +down in the vaults, had given me the assurance. The immense thickness +and giddy height of the walls, the enormous strength of the massive +towers, the great extent of the building, its gigantic proportions, +frowning aspect, and barbarous irregularity, awaken awe and wonder. The +recollection of its opposite old uses: an impregnable fortress, a +luxurious palace, a horrible prison, a place of torture, the court of the +Inquisition: at one and the same time, a house of feasting, fighting, +religion, and blood: gives to every stone in its huge form a fearful +interest, and imparts new meaning to its incongruities. I could think of +little, however, then, or long afterwards, but the sun in the dungeons. +The palace coming down to be the lounging-place of noisy soldiers, and +being forced to echo their rough talk, and common oaths, and to have +their garments fluttering from its dirty windows, was some reduction of +its state, and something to rejoice at; but the day in its cells, and the +sky for the roof of its chambers of cruelty—that was its desolation and +defeat! If I had seen it in a blaze from ditch to rampart, I should have +felt that not that light, nor all the light in all the fire that burns, +could waste it, like the sunbeams in its secret council-chamber, and its +prisons. + +Before I quit this Palace of the Popes, let me translate from the little +history I mentioned just now, a short anecdote, quite appropriate to +itself, connected with its adventures. + +‘An ancient tradition relates, that in 1441, a nephew of Pierre de Lude, +the Pope’s legate, seriously insulted some distinguished ladies of +Avignon, whose relations, in revenge, seized the young man, and horribly +mutilated him. For several years the legate kept _his_ revenge within +his own breast, but he was not the less resolved upon its gratification +at last. He even made, in the fulness of time, advances towards a +complete reconciliation; and when their apparent sincerity had prevailed, +he invited to a splendid banquet, in this palace, certain families, whole +families, whom he sought to exterminate. The utmost gaiety animated the +repast; but the measures of the legate were well taken. When the dessert +was on the board, a Swiss presented himself, with the announcement that a +strange ambassador solicited an extraordinary audience. The legate, +excusing himself, for the moment, to his guests, retired, followed by his +officers. Within a few minutes afterwards, five hundred persons were +reduced to ashes: the whole of that wing of the building having been +blown into the air with a terrible explosion!’ + +After seeing the churches (I will not trouble you with churches just +now), we left Avignon that afternoon. The heat being very great, the +roads outside the walls were strewn with people fast asleep in every +little slip of shade, and with lazy groups, half asleep and half awake, +who were waiting until the sun should be low enough to admit of their +playing bowls among the burnt-up trees, and on the dusty road. The +harvest here was already gathered in, and mules and horses were treading +out the corn in the fields. We came, at dusk, upon a wild and hilly +country, once famous for brigands; and travelled slowly up a steep +ascent. So we went on, until eleven at night, when we halted at the town +of Aix (within two stages of Marseilles) to sleep. + +The hotel, with all the blinds and shutters closed to keep the light and +heat out, was comfortable and airy next morning, and the town was very +clean; but so hot, and so intensely light, that when I walked out at noon +it was like coming suddenly from the darkened room into crisp blue fire. +The air was so very clear, that distant hills and rocky points appeared +within an hour’s walk; while the town immediately at hand—with a kind of +blue wind between me and it—seemed to be white hot, and to be throwing +off a fiery air from the surface. + +We left this town towards evening, and took the road to Marseilles. A +dusty road it was; the houses shut up close; and the vines powdered +white. At nearly all the cottage doors, women were peeling and slicing +onions into earthen bowls for supper. So they had been doing last night +all the way from Avignon. We passed one or two shady dark châteaux, +surrounded by trees, and embellished with cool basins of water: which +were the more refreshing to behold, from the great scarcity of such +residences on the road we had travelled. As we approached Marseilles, +the road began to be covered with holiday people. Outside the +public-houses were parties smoking, drinking, playing draughts and cards, +and (once) dancing. But dust, dust, dust, everywhere. We went on, +through a long, straggling, dirty suburb, thronged with people; having on +our left a dreary slope of land, on which the country-houses of the +Marseilles merchants, always staring white, are jumbled and heaped +without the slightest order: backs, fronts, sides, and gables towards all +points of the compass; until, at last, we entered the town. + +I was there, twice or thrice afterwards, in fair weather and foul; and I +am afraid there is no doubt that it is a dirty and disagreeable place. +But the prospect, from the fortified heights, of the beautiful +Mediterranean, with its lovely rocks and islands, is most delightful. +These heights are a desirable retreat, for less picturesque reasons—as an +escape from a compound of vile smells perpetually arising from a great +harbour full of stagnant water, and befouled by the refuse of innumerable +ships with all sorts of cargoes: which, in hot weather, is dreadful in +the last degree. + +There were foreign sailors, of all nations, in the streets; with red +shirts, blue shirts, buff shirts, tawny shirts, and shirts of orange +colour; with red caps, blue caps, green caps, great beards, and no +beards; in Turkish turbans, glazed English hats, and Neapolitan +head-dresses. There were the townspeople sitting in clusters on the +pavement, or airing themselves on the tops of their houses, or walking up +and down the closest and least airy of Boulevards; and there were crowds +of fierce-looking people of the lower sort, blocking up the way, +constantly. In the very heart of all this stir and uproar, was the +common madhouse; a low, contracted, miserable building, looking straight +upon the street, without the smallest screen or court-yard; where +chattering mad-men and mad-women were peeping out, through rusty bars, at +the staring faces below, while the sun, darting fiercely aslant into +their little cells, seemed to dry up their brains, and worry them, as if +they were baited by a pack of dogs. + +We were pretty well accommodated at the Hôtel du Paradis, situated in a +narrow street of very high houses, with a hairdresser’s shop opposite, +exhibiting in one of its windows two full-length waxen ladies, twirling +round and round: which so enchanted the hairdresser himself, that he and +his family sat in arm-chairs, and in cool undresses, on the pavement +outside, enjoying the gratification of the passers-by, with lazy dignity. +The family had retired to rest when we went to bed, at midnight; but the +hairdresser (a corpulent man, in drab slippers) was still sitting there, +with his legs stretched out before him, and evidently couldn’t bear to +have the shutters put up. + +Next day we went down to the harbour, where the sailors of all nations +were discharging and taking in cargoes of all kinds: fruits, wines, oils, +silks, stuffs, velvets, and every manner of merchandise. Taking one of a +great number of lively little boats with gay-striped awnings, we rowed +away, under the sterns of great ships, under tow-ropes and cables, +against and among other boats, and very much too near the sides of +vessels that were faint with oranges, to the _Marie Antoinette_, a +handsome steamer bound for Genoa, lying near the mouth of the harbour. +By-and-by, the carriage, that unwieldy ‘trifle from the Pantechnicon,’ on +a flat barge, bumping against everything, and giving occasion for a +prodigious quantity of oaths and grimaces, came stupidly alongside; and +by five o’clock we were steaming out in the open sea. The vessel was +beautifully clean; the meals were served under an awning on deck; the +night was calm and clear; the quiet beauty of the sea and sky +unspeakable. + +We were off Nice, early next morning, and coasted along, within a few +miles of the Cornice road (of which more in its place) nearly all day. +We could see Genoa before three; and watching it as it gradually +developed its splendid amphitheatre, terrace rising above terrace, garden +above garden, palace above palace, height upon height, was ample +occupation for us, till we ran into the stately harbour. Having been +duly astonished, here, by the sight of a few Cappucini monks, who were +watching the fair-weighing of some wood upon the wharf, we drove off to +Albaro, two miles distant, where we had engaged a house. + +The way lay through the main streets, but not through the Strada Nuova, +or the Strada Balbi, which are the famous streets of palaces. I never in +my life was so dismayed! The wonderful novelty of everything, the +unusual smells, the unaccountable filth (though it is reckoned the +cleanest of Italian towns), the disorderly jumbling of dirty houses, one +upon the roof of another; the passages more squalid and more close than +any in St. Giles’s or old Paris; in and out of which, not vagabonds, but +well-dressed women, with white veils and great fans, were passing and +repassing; the perfect absence of resemblance in any dwelling-house, or +shop, or wall, or post, or pillar, to anything one had ever seen before; +and the disheartening dirt, discomfort, and decay; perfectly confounded +me. I fell into a dismal reverie. I am conscious of a feverish and +bewildered vision of saints and virgins’ shrines at the street corners—of +great numbers of friars, monks, and soldiers—of vast red curtains, waving +in the doorways of the churches—of always going up hill, and yet seeing +every other street and passage going higher up—of fruit-stalls, with +fresh lemons and oranges hanging in garlands made of vine-leaves—of a +guard-house, and a drawbridge—and some gateways—and vendors of iced +water, sitting with little trays upon the margin of the kennel—and this +is all the consciousness I had, until I was set down in a rank, dull, +weedy court-yard, attached to a kind of pink jail; and was told I lived +there. + +I little thought, that day, that I should ever come to have an attachment +for the very stones in the streets of Genoa, and to look back upon the +city with affection as connected with many hours of happiness and quiet! +But these are my first impressions honestly set down; and how they +changed, I will set down too. At present, let us breathe after this +long-winded journey. + + + + +GENOA AND ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD + + +THE first impressions of such a place as ALBARO, the suburb of Genoa, +where I am now, as my American friends would say, ‘located,’ can hardly +fail, I should imagine, to be mournful and disappointing. It requires a +little time and use to overcome the feeling of depression consequent, at +first, on so much ruin and neglect. Novelty, pleasant to most people, is +particularly delightful, I think, to me. I am not easily dispirited when +I have the means of pursuing my own fancies and occupations; and I +believe I have some natural aptitude for accommodating myself to +circumstances. But, as yet, I stroll about here, in all the holes and +corners of the neighbourhood, in a perpetual state of forlorn surprise; +and returning to my villa: the Villa Bagnerello (it sounds romantic, but +Signor Bagnerello is a butcher hard by): have sufficient occupation in +pondering over my new experiences, and comparing them, very much to my +own amusement, with my expectations, until I wander out again. + +The Villa Bagnerello: or the Pink Jail, a far more expressive name for +the mansion: is in one of the most splendid situations imaginable. The +noble bay of Genoa, with the deep blue Mediterranean, lies stretched out +near at hand; monstrous old desolate houses and palaces are dotted all +about; lofty hills, with their tops often hidden in the clouds, and with +strong forts perched high up on their craggy sides, are close upon the +left; and in front, stretching from the walls of the house, down to a +ruined chapel which stands upon the bold and picturesque rocks on the +sea-shore, are green vineyards, where you may wander all day long in +partial shade, through interminable vistas of grapes, trained on a rough +trellis-work across the narrow paths. + +This sequestered spot is approached by lanes so very narrow, that when we +arrived at the Custom-house, we found the people here had _taken the +measure_ of the narrowest among them, and were waiting to apply it to the +carriage; which ceremony was gravely performed in the street, while we +all stood by in breathless suspense. It was found to be a very tight +fit, but just a possibility, and no more—as I am reminded every day, by +the sight of various large holes which it punched in the walls on either +side as it came along. We are more fortunate, I am told, than an old +lady, who took a house in these parts not long ago, and who stuck fast in +_her_ carriage in a lane; and as it was impossible to open one of the +doors, she was obliged to submit to the indignity of being hauled through +one of the little front windows, like a harlequin. + +When you have got through these narrow lanes, you come to an archway, +imperfectly stopped up by a rusty old gate—my gate. The rusty old gate +has a bell to correspond, which you ring as long as you like, and which +nobody answers, as it has no connection whatever with the house. But +there is a rusty old knocker, too—very loose, so that it slides round +when you touch it—and if you learn the trick of it, and knock long +enough, somebody comes. The brave Courier comes, and gives you +admittance. You walk into a seedy little garden, all wild and weedy, +from which the vineyard opens; cross it, enter a square hall like a +cellar, walk up a cracked marble staircase, and pass into a most enormous +room with a vaulted roof and whitewashed walls: not unlike a great +Methodist chapel. This is the _sala_. It has five windows and five +doors, and is decorated with pictures which would gladden the heart of +one of those picture-cleaners in London who hang up, as a sign, a picture +divided, like death and the lady, at the top of the old ballad: which +always leaves you in a state of uncertainty whether the ingenious +professor has cleaned one half, or dirtied the other. The furniture of +this _sala_ is a sort of red brocade. All the chairs are immovable, and +the sofa weighs several tons. + +On the same floor, and opening out of this same chamber, are dining-room, +drawing-room, and divers bedrooms: each with a multiplicity of doors and +windows. Up-stairs are divers other gaunt chambers, and a kitchen; and +down-stairs is another kitchen, which, with all sorts of strange +contrivances for burning charcoal, looks like an alchemical laboratory. +There are also some half-dozen small sitting-rooms, where the servants in +this hot July, may escape from the heat of the fire, and where the brave +Courier plays all sorts of musical instruments of his own manufacture, +all the evening long. A mighty old, wandering, ghostly, echoing, grim, +bare house it is, as ever I beheld or thought of. + +There is a little vine-covered terrace, opening from the drawing-room; +and under this terrace, and forming one side of the little garden, is +what used to be the stable. It is now a cow-house, and has three cows in +it, so that we get new milk by the bucketful. There is no pasturage +near, and they never go out, but are constantly lying down, and +surfeiting themselves with vine-leaves—perfect Italian cows enjoying the +_dolce far’ niente_ all day long. They are presided over, and slept +with, by an old man named Antonio, and his son; two burnt-sienna natives +with naked legs and feet, who wear, each, a shirt, a pair of trousers, +and a red sash, with a relic, or some sacred charm like the bonbon off a +twelfth-cake, hanging round the neck. The old man is very anxious to +convert me to the Catholic faith, and exhorts me frequently. We sit upon +a stone by the door, sometimes in the evening, like Robinson Crusoe and +Friday reversed; and he generally relates, towards my conversion, an +abridgment of the History of Saint Peter—chiefly, I believe, from the +unspeakable delight he has in his imitation of the cock. + +The view, as I have said, is charming; but in the day you must keep the +lattice-blinds close shut, or the sun would drive you mad; and when the +sun goes down you must shut up all the windows, or the mosquitoes would +tempt you to commit suicide. So at this time of the year, you don’t see +much of the prospect within doors. As for the flies, you don’t mind +them. Nor the fleas, whose size is prodigious, and whose name is Legion, +and who populate the coach-house to that extent that I daily expect to +see the carriage going off bodily, drawn by myriads of industrious fleas +in harness. The rats are kept away, quite comfortably, by scores of lean +cats, who roam about the garden for that purpose. The lizards, of +course, nobody cares for; they play in the sun, and don’t bite. The +little scorpions are merely curious. The beetles are rather late, and +have not appeared yet. The frogs are company. There is a preserve of +them in the grounds of the next villa; and after nightfall, one would +think that scores upon scores of women in pattens were going up and down +a wet stone pavement without a moment’s cessation. That is exactly the +noise they make. + +The ruined chapel, on the picturesque and beautiful sea-shore, was +dedicated, once upon a time, to Saint John the Baptist. I believe there +is a legend that Saint John’s bones were received there, with various +solemnities, when they were first brought to Genoa; for Genoa possesses +them to this day. When there is any uncommon tempest at sea, they are +brought out and exhibited to the raging weather, which they never fail to +calm. In consequence of this connection of Saint John with the city, +great numbers of the common people are christened Giovanni Baptista, +which latter name is pronounced in the Genoese patois ‘Batcheetcha,’ like +a sneeze. To hear everybody calling everybody else Batcheetcha, on a +Sunday, or festa-day, when there are crowds in the streets, is not a +little singular and amusing to a stranger. + +The narrow lanes have great villas opening into them, whose walls +(outside walls, I mean) are profusely painted with all sorts of subjects, +grim and holy. But time and the sea-air have nearly obliterated them; +and they look like the entrance to Vauxhall Gardens on a sunny day. The +court-yards of these houses are overgrown with grass and weeds; all sorts +of hideous patches cover the bases of the statues, as if they were +afflicted with a cutaneous disorder; the outer gates are rusty; and the +iron bars outside the lower windows are all tumbling down. Firewood is +kept in halls where costly treasures might be heaped up, mountains high; +waterfalls are dry and choked; fountains, too dull to play, and too lazy +to work, have just enough recollection of their identity, in their sleep, +to make the neighbourhood damp; and the sirocco wind is often blowing +over all these things for days together, like a gigantic oven out for a +holiday. + +Not long ago, there was a festa-day, in honour of the _Virgin’s mother_, +when the young men of the neighbourhood, having worn green wreaths of the +vine in some procession or other, bathed in them, by scores. It looked +very odd and pretty. Though I am bound to confess (not knowing of the +festa at that time), that I thought, and was quite satisfied, they wore +them as horses do—to keep the flies off. + +Soon afterwards, there was another festa-day, in honour of St. Nazaro. +One of the Albaro young men brought two large bouquets soon after +breakfast, and coming up-stairs into the great _sala_, presented them +himself. This was a polite way of begging for a contribution towards the +expenses of some music in the Saint’s honour, so we gave him whatever it +may have been, and his messenger departed: well satisfied. At six +o’clock in the evening we went to the church—close at hand—a very gaudy +place, hung all over with festoons and bright draperies, and filled, from +the altar to the main door, with women, all seated. They wear no bonnets +here, simply a long white veil—the ‘mezzero;’ and it was the most gauzy, +ethereal-looking audience I ever saw. The young women are not generally +pretty, but they walk remarkably well, and in their personal carriage and +the management of their veils, display much innate grace and elegance. +There were some men present: not very many: and a few of these were +kneeling about the aisles, while everybody else tumbled over them. +Innumerable tapers were burning in the church; the bits of silver and tin +about the saints (especially in the Virgin’s necklace) sparkled +brilliantly; the priests were seated about the chief altar; the organ +played away, lustily, and a full band did the like; while a conductor, in +a little gallery opposite to the band, hammered away on the desk before +him, with a scroll; and a tenor, without any voice, sang. The band +played one way, the organ played another, the singer went a third, and +the unfortunate conductor banged and banged, and flourished his scroll on +some principle of his own: apparently well satisfied with the whole +performance. I never did hear such a discordant din. The heat was +intense all the time. + +The men, in red caps, and with loose coats hanging on their shoulders +(they never put them on), were playing bowls, and buying sweetmeats, +immediately outside the church. When half-a-dozen of them finished a +game, they came into the aisle, crossed themselves with the holy water, +knelt on one knee for an instant, and walked off again to play another +game at bowls. They are remarkably expert at this diversion, and will +play in the stony lanes and streets, and on the most uneven and +disastrous ground for such a purpose, with as much nicety as on a +billiard-table. But the most favourite game is the national one of Mora, +which they pursue with surprising ardour, and at which they will stake +everything they possess. It is a destructive kind of gambling, requiring +no accessories but the ten fingers, which are always—I intend no pun—at +hand. Two men play together. One calls a number—say the extreme one, +ten. He marks what portion of it he pleases by throwing out three, or +four, or five fingers; and his adversary has, in the same instant, at +hazard, and without seeing his hand, to throw out as many fingers, as +will make the exact balance. Their eyes and hands become so used to +this, and act with such astonishing rapidity, that an uninitiated +bystander would find it very difficult, if not impossible, to follow the +progress of the game. The initiated, however, of whom there is always an +eager group looking on, devour it with the most intense avidity; and as +they are always ready to champion one side or the other in case of a +dispute, and are frequently divided in their partisanship, it is often a +very noisy proceeding. It is never the quietest game in the world; for +the numbers are always called in a loud sharp voice, and follow as close +upon each other as they can be counted. On a holiday evening, standing +at a window, or walking in a garden, or passing through the streets, or +sauntering in any quiet place about the town, you will hear this game in +progress in a score of wine-shops at once; and looking over any vineyard +walk, or turning almost any corner, will come upon a knot of players in +full cry. It is observable that most men have a propensity to throw out +some particular number oftener than another; and the vigilance with which +two sharp-eyed players will mutually endeavour to detect this weakness, +and adapt their game to it, is very curious and entertaining. The effect +is greatly heightened by the universal suddenness and vehemence of +gesture; two men playing for half a farthing with an intensity as +all-absorbing as if the stake were life. + +Hard by here is a large Palazzo, formerly belonging to some member of the +Brignole family, but just now hired by a school of Jesuits for their +summer quarters. I walked into its dismantled precincts the other +evening about sunset, and couldn’t help pacing up and down for a little +time, drowsily taking in the aspect of the place: which is repeated +hereabouts in all directions. + +I loitered to and fro, under a colonnade, forming two sides of a weedy, +grass-grown court-yard, whereof the house formed a third side, and a low +terrace-walk, overlooking the garden and the neighbouring hills, the +fourth. I don’t believe there was an uncracked stone in the whole +pavement. In the centre was a melancholy statue, so piebald in its +decay, that it looked exactly as if it had been covered with +sticking-plaster, and afterwards powdered. The stables, coach-houses, +offices, were all empty, all ruinous, all utterly deserted. + +Doors had lost their hinges, and were holding on by their latches; +windows were broken, painted plaster had peeled off, and was lying about +in clods; fowls and cats had so taken possession of the out-buildings, +that I couldn’t help thinking of the fairy tales, and eyeing them with +suspicion, as transformed retainers, waiting to be changed back again. +One old Tom in particular: a scraggy brute, with a hungry green eye (a +poor relation, in reality, I am inclined to think): came prowling round +and round me, as if he half believed, for the moment, that I might be the +hero come to marry the lady, and set all to-rights; but discovering his +mistake, he suddenly gave a grim snarl, and walked away with such a +tremendous tail, that he couldn’t get into the little hole where he +lived, but was obliged to wait outside, until his indignation and his +tail had gone down together. + +In a sort of summer-house, or whatever it may be, in this colonnade, some +Englishmen had been living, like grubs in a nut; but the Jesuits had +given them notice to go, and they had gone, and _that_ was shut up too. +The house: a wandering, echoing, thundering barrack of a place, with the +lower windows barred up, as usual, was wide open at the door: and I have +no doubt I might have gone in, and gone to bed, and gone dead, and nobody +a bit the wiser. Only one suite of rooms on an upper floor was tenanted; +and from one of these, the voice of a young-lady vocalist, practising +bravura lustily, came flaunting out upon the silent evening. + +I went down into the garden, intended to be prim and quaint, with +avenues, and terraces, and orange-trees, and statues, and water in stone +basins; and everything was green, gaunt, weedy, straggling, under grown +or over grown, mildewy, damp, redolent of all sorts of slabby, clammy, +creeping, and uncomfortable life. There was nothing bright in the whole +scene but a firefly—one solitary firefly—showing against the dark bushes +like the last little speck of the departed Glory of the house; and even +it went flitting up and down at sudden angles, and leaving a place with a +jerk, and describing an irregular circle, and returning to the same place +with a twitch that startled one: as if it were looking for the rest of +the Glory, and wondering (Heaven knows it might!) what had become of it. + + * * * * * + +In the course of two months, the flitting shapes and shadows of my dismal +entering reverie gradually resolved themselves into familiar forms and +substances; and I already began to think that when the time should come, +a year hence, for closing the long holiday and turning back to England, I +might part from Genoa with anything but a glad heart. + +It is a place that ‘grows upon you’ every day. There seems to be always +something to find out in it. There are the most extraordinary alleys and +by-ways to walk about in. You can lose your way (what a comfort that is, +when you are idle!) twenty times a day, if you like; and turn up again, +under the most unexpected and surprising difficulties. It abounds in the +strangest contrasts; things that are picturesque, ugly, mean, +magnificent, delightful, and offensive, break upon the view at every +turn. + +They who would know how beautiful the country immediately surrounding +Genoa is, should climb (in clear weather) to the top of Monte Faccio, or, +at least, ride round the city walls: a feat more easily performed. No +prospect can be more diversified and lovely than the changing views of +the harbour, and the valleys of the two rivers, the Polcevera and the +Bizagno, from the heights along which the strongly fortified walls are +carried, like the great wall of China in little. In not the least +picturesque part of this ride, there is a fair specimen of a real Genoese +tavern, where the visitor may derive good entertainment from real Genoese +dishes, such as Tagliarini; Ravioli; German sausages, strong of garlic, +sliced and eaten with fresh green figs; cocks’ combs and sheep-kidneys, +chopped up with mutton chops and liver; small pieces of some unknown part +of a calf, twisted into small shreds, fried, and served up in a great +dish like white-bait; and other curiosities of that kind. They often get +wine at these suburban Trattorie, from France and Spain and Portugal, +which is brought over by small captains in little trading-vessels. They +buy it at so much a bottle, without asking what it is, or caring to +remember if anybody tells them, and usually divide it into two heaps; of +which they label one Champagne, and the other Madeira. The various +opposite flavours, qualities, countries, ages, and vintages that are +comprised under these two general heads is quite extraordinary. The most +limited range is probably from cool Gruel up to old Marsala, and down +again to apple Tea. + +The great majority of the streets are as narrow as any thoroughfare can +well be, where people (even Italian people) are supposed to live and walk +about; being mere lanes, with here and there a kind of well, or +breathing-place. The houses are immensely high, painted in all sorts of +colours, and are in every stage and state of damage, dirt, and lack of +repair. They are commonly let off in floors, or flats, like the houses +in the old town of Edinburgh, or many houses in Paris. There are few +street doors; the entrance halls are, for the most part, looked upon as +public property; and any moderately enterprising scavenger might make a +fine fortune by now and then clearing them out. As it is impossible for +coaches to penetrate into these streets, there are sedan chairs, gilded +and otherwise, for hire in divers places. A great many private chairs +are also kept among the nobility and gentry; and at night these are +trotted to and fro in all directions, preceded by bearers of great +lanthorns, made of linen stretched upon a frame. The sedans and +lanthorns are the legitimate successors of the long strings of patient +and much-abused mules, that go jingling their little bells through these +confined streets all day long. They follow them, as regularly as the +stars the sun. + +When shall I forget the Streets of Palaces: the Strada Nuova and the +Strada Balbi! or how the former looked one summer day, when I first saw +it underneath the brightest and most intensely blue of summer skies: +which its narrow perspective of immense mansions, reduced to a tapering +and most precious strip of brightness, looking down upon the heavy shade +below! A brightness not too common, even in July and August, to be well +esteemed: for, if the Truth must out, there were not eight blue skies in +as many midsummer weeks, saving, sometimes, early in the morning; when, +looking out to sea, the water and the firmament were one world of deep +and brilliant blue. At other times, there were clouds and haze enough to +make an Englishman grumble in his own climate. + +The endless details of these rich Palaces: the walls of some of them, +within, alive with masterpieces by Vandyke! The great, heavy, stone +balconies, one above another, and tier over tier: with here and there, +one larger than the rest, towering high up—a huge marble platform; the +doorless vestibules, massively barred lower windows, immense public +staircases, thick marble pillars, strong dungeon-like arches, and dreary, +dreaming, echoing vaulted chambers: among which the eye wanders again, +and again, and again, as every palace is succeeded by another—the terrace +gardens between house and house, with green arches of the vine, and +groves of orange-trees, and blushing oleander in full bloom, twenty, +thirty, forty feet above the street—the painted halls, mouldering, and +blotting, and rotting in the damp corners, and still shining out in +beautiful colours and voluptuous designs, where the walls are dry—the +faded figures on the outsides of the houses, holding wreaths, and crowns, +and flying upward, and downward, and standing in niches, and here and +there looking fainter and more feeble than elsewhere, by contrast with +some fresh little Cupids, who on a more recently decorated portion of the +front, are stretching out what seems to be the semblance of a blanket, +but is, indeed, a sun-dial—the steep, steep, up-hill streets of small +palaces (but very large palaces for all that), with marble terraces +looking down into close by-ways—the magnificent and innumerable Churches; +and the rapid passage from a street of stately edifices, into a maze of +the vilest squalor, steaming with unwholesome stenches, and swarming with +half-naked children and whole worlds of dirty people—make up, altogether, +such a scene of wonder: so lively, and yet so dead: so noisy, and yet so +quiet: so obtrusive, and yet so shy and lowering: so wide awake, and yet +so fast asleep: that it is a sort of intoxication to a stranger to walk +on, and on, and on, and look about him. A bewildering phantasmagoria, +with all the inconsistency of a dream, and all the pain and all the +pleasure of an extravagant reality! + +The different uses to which some of these Palaces are applied, all at +once, is characteristic. For instance, the English Banker (my excellent +and hospitable friend) has his office in a good-sized Palazzo in the +Strada Nuova. In the hall (every inch of which is elaborately painted, +but which is as dirty as a police-station in London), a hook-nosed +Saracen’s Head with an immense quantity of black hair (there is a man +attached to it) sells walking-sticks. On the other side of the doorway, +a lady with a showy handkerchief for head-dress (wife to the Saracen’s +Head, I believe) sells articles of her own knitting; and sometimes +flowers. A little further in, two or three blind men occasionally beg. +Sometimes, they are visited by a man without legs, on a little go-cart, +but who has such a fresh-coloured, lively face, and such a respectable, +well-conditioned body, that he looks as if he had sunk into the ground up +to his middle, or had come, but partially, up a flight of cellar-steps to +speak to somebody. A little further in, a few men, perhaps, lie asleep +in the middle of the day; or they may be chairmen waiting for their +absent freight. If so, they have brought their chairs in with them, and +there _they_ stand also. On the left of the hall is a little room: a +hatter’s shop. On the first floor, is the English bank. On the first +floor also, is a whole house, and a good large residence too. Heaven +knows what there may be above that; but when you are there, you have only +just begun to go up-stairs. And yet, coming down-stairs again, thinking +of this; and passing out at a great crazy door in the back of the hall, +instead of turning the other way, to get into the street again; it bangs +behind you, making the dismallest and most lonesome echoes, and you stand +in a yard (the yard of the same house) which seems to have been unvisited +by human foot, for a hundred years. Not a sound disturbs its repose. +Not a head, thrust out of any of the grim, dark, jealous windows, within +sight, makes the weeds in the cracked pavement faint of heart, by +suggesting the possibility of there being hands to grub them up. +Opposite to you, is a giant figure carved in stone, reclining, with an +urn, upon a lofty piece of artificial rockwork; and out of the urn, +dangles the fag end of a leaden pipe, which, once upon a time, poured a +small torrent down the rocks. But the eye-sockets of the giant are not +drier than this channel is now. He seems to have given his urn, which is +nearly upside down, a final tilt; and after crying, like a sepulchral +child, ‘All gone!’ to have lapsed into a stony silence. + +In the streets of shops, the houses are much smaller, but of great size +notwithstanding, and extremely high. They are very dirty: quite +undrained, if my nose be at all reliable: and emit a peculiar fragrance, +like the smell of very bad cheese, kept in very hot blankets. +Notwithstanding the height of the houses, there would seem to have been a +lack of room in the City, for new houses are thrust in everywhere. +Wherever it has been possible to cram a tumble-down tenement into a crack +or corner, in it has gone. If there be a nook or angle in the wall of a +church, or a crevice in any other dead wall, of any sort, there you are +sure to find some kind of habitation: looking as if it had grown there, +like a fungus. Against the Government House, against the old Senate +House, round about any large building, little shops stick so close, like +parasite vermin to the great carcase. And for all this, look where you +may: up steps, down steps, anywhere, everywhere: there are irregular +houses, receding, starting forward, tumbling down, leaning against their +neighbours, crippling themselves or their friends by some means or other, +until one, more irregular than the rest, chokes up the way, and you can’t +see any further. + +One of the rottenest-looking parts of the town, I think, is down by the +landing-wharf: though it may be, that its being associated with a great +deal of rottenness on the evening of our arrival, has stamped it deeper +in my mind. Here, again, the houses are very high, and are of an +infinite variety of deformed shapes, and have (as most of the houses +have) something hanging out of a great many windows, and wafting its +frowsy fragrance on the breeze. Sometimes, it is a curtain; sometimes, +it is a carpet; sometimes, it is a bed; sometimes, a whole line-full of +clothes; but there is almost always something. Before the basement of +these houses, is an arcade over the pavement: very massive, dark, and +low, like an old crypt. The stone, or plaster, of which it is made, has +turned quite black; and against every one of these black piles, all sorts +of filth and garbage seem to accumulate spontaneously. Beneath some of +the arches, the sellers of macaroni and polenta establish their stalls, +which are by no means inviting. The offal of a fish-market, near at +hand—that is to say, of a back lane, where people sit upon the ground and +on various old bulk-heads and sheds, and sell fish when they have any to +dispose of—and of a vegetable market, constructed on the same +principle—are contributed to the decoration of this quarter; and as all +the mercantile business is transacted here, and it is crowded all day, it +has a very decided flavour about it. The Porto Franco, or Free Port +(where goods brought in from foreign countries pay no duty until they are +sold and taken out, as in a bonded warehouse in England), is down here +also; and two portentous officials, in cocked hats, stand at the gate to +search you if they choose, and to keep out Monks and Ladies. For, +Sanctity as well as Beauty has been known to yield to the temptation of +smuggling, and in the same way: that is to say, by concealing the +smuggled property beneath the loose folds of its dress. So Sanctity and +Beauty may, by no means, enter. + +The streets of Genoa would be all the better for the importation of a few +Priests of prepossessing appearance. Every fourth or fifth man in the +streets is a Priest or a Monk; and there is pretty sure to be at least +one itinerant ecclesiastic inside or outside every hackney carriage on +the neighbouring roads. I have no knowledge, elsewhere, of more +repulsive countenances than are to be found among these gentry. If +Nature’s handwriting be at all legible, greater varieties of sloth, +deceit, and intellectual torpor, could hardly be observed among any class +of men in the world. + +MR. PEPYS once heard a clergyman assert in his sermon, in illustration of +his respect for the Priestly office, that if he could meet a Priest and +angel together, he would salute the Priest first. I am rather of the +opinion of PETRARCH, who, when his pupil BOCCACCIO wrote to him in great +tribulation, that he had been visited and admonished for his writings by +a Carthusian Friar who claimed to be a messenger immediately commissioned +by Heaven for that purpose, replied, that for his own part, he would take +the liberty of testing the reality of the commission by personal +observation of the Messenger’s face, eyes, forehead, behaviour, and +discourse. I cannot but believe myself, from similar observation, that +many unaccredited celestial messengers may be seen skulking through the +streets of Genoa, or droning away their lives in other Italian towns. + +Perhaps the Cappuccíni, though not a learned body, are, as an order, the +best friends of the people. They seem to mingle with them more +immediately, as their counsellors and comforters; and to go among them +more, when they are sick; and to pry less than some other orders, into +the secrets of families, for the purpose of establishing a baleful +ascendency over their weaker members; and to be influenced by a less +fierce desire to make converts, and once made, to let them go to ruin, +soul and body. They may be seen, in their coarse dress, in all parts of +the town at all times, and begging in the markets early in the morning. +The Jesuits too, muster strong in the streets, and go slinking +noiselessly about, in pairs, like black cats. + +In some of the narrow passages, distinct trades congregate. There is a +street of jewellers, and there is a row of booksellers; but even down in +places where nobody ever can, or ever could, penetrate in a carriage, +there are mighty old palaces shut in among the gloomiest and closest +walls, and almost shut out from the sun. Very few of the tradesmen have +any idea of setting forth their goods, or disposing them for show. If +you, a stranger, want to buy anything, you usually look round the shop +till you see it; then clutch it, if it be within reach, and inquire how +much. Everything is sold at the most unlikely place. If you want +coffee, you go to a sweetmeat shop; and if you want meat, you will +probably find it behind an old checked curtain, down half-a-dozen steps, +in some sequestered nook as hard to find as if the commodity were poison, +and Genoa’s law were death to any that uttered it. + +Most of the apothecaries’ shops are great lounging-places. Here, grave +men with sticks, sit down in the shade for hours together, passing a +meagre Genoa paper from hand to hand, and talking, drowsily and +sparingly, about the News. Two or three of these are poor physicians, +ready to proclaim themselves on an emergency, and tear off with any +messenger who may arrive. You may know them by the way in which they +stretch their necks to listen, when you enter; and by the sigh with which +they fall back again into their dull corners, on finding that you only +want medicine. Few people lounge in the barbers’ shops; though they are +very numerous, as hardly any man shaves himself. But the apothecary’s +has its group of loungers, who sit back among the bottles, with their +hands folded over the tops of their sticks. So still and quiet, that +either you don’t see them in the darkened shop, or mistake them—as I did +one ghostly man in bottle-green, one day, with a hat like a stopper—for +Horse Medicine. + + * * * * * + +On a summer evening the Genoese are as fond of putting themselves, as +their ancestors were of putting houses, in every available inch of space +in and about the town. In all the lanes and alleys, and up every little +ascent, and on every dwarf wall, and on every flight of steps, they +cluster like bees. Meanwhile (and especially on festa-days) the bells of +the churches ring incessantly; not in peals, or any known form of sound, +but in a horrible, irregular, jerking, dingle, dingle, dingle: with a +sudden stop at every fifteenth dingle or so, which is maddening. This +performance is usually achieved by a boy up in the steeple, who takes +hold of the clapper, or a little rope attached to it, and tries to dingle +louder than every other boy similarly employed. The noise is supposed to +be particularly obnoxious to Evil Spirits; but looking up into the +steeples, and seeing (and hearing) these young Christians thus engaged, +one might very naturally mistake them for the Enemy. + +Festa-days, early in the autumn, are very numerous. All the shops were +shut up, twice within a week, for these holidays; and one night, all the +houses in the neighbourhood of a particular church were illuminated, +while the church itself was lighted, outside, with torches; and a grove +of blazing links was erected, in an open space outside one of the city +gates. This part of the ceremony is prettier and more singular a little +way in the country, where you can trace the illuminated cottages all the +way up a steep hill-side; and where you pass festoons of tapers, wasting +away in the starlight night, before some lonely little house upon the +road. + +On these days, they always dress the church of the saint in whose honour +the festa is holden, very gaily. Gold-embroidered festoons of different +colours, hang from the arches; the altar furniture is set forth; and +sometimes, even the lofty pillars are swathed from top to bottom in +tight-fitting draperies. The cathedral is dedicated to St. Lorenzo. On +St. Lorenzo’s day, we went into it, just as the sun was setting. +Although these decorations are usually in very indifferent taste, the +effect, just then, was very superb indeed. For the whole building was +dressed in red; and the sinking sun, streaming in, through a great red +curtain in the chief doorway, made all the gorgeousness its own. When +the sun went down, and it gradually grew quite dark inside, except for a +few twinkling tapers on the principal altar, and some small dangling +silver lamps, it was very mysterious and effective. But, sitting in any +of the churches towards evening, is like a mild dose of opium. + + [Picture: Italian Romance] + +With the money collected at a festa, they usually pay for the dressing of +the church, and for the hiring of the band, and for the tapers. If there +be any left (which seldom happens, I believe), the souls in Purgatory get +the benefit of it. They are also supposed to have the benefit of the +exertions of certain small boys, who shake money-boxes before some +mysterious little buildings like rural turnpikes, which (usually shut up +close) fly open on Red-letter days, and disclose an image and some +flowers inside. + +Just without the city gate, on the Albara road, is a small house, with an +altar in it, and a stationary money-box: also for the benefit of the +souls in Purgatory. Still further to stimulate the charitable, there is +a monstrous painting on the plaster, on either side of the grated door, +representing a select party of souls, frying. One of them has a grey +moustache, and an elaborate head of grey hair: as if he had been taken +out of a hairdresser’s window and cast into the furnace. There he is: a +most grotesque and hideously comic old soul: for ever blistering in the +real sun, and melting in the mimic fire, for the gratification and +improvement (and the contributions) of the poor Genoese. + +They are not a very joyous people, and are seldom seen to dance on their +holidays: the staple places of entertainment among the women, being the +churches and the public walks. They are very good-tempered, obliging, +and industrious. Industry has not made them clean, for their habitations +are extremely filthy, and their usual occupation on a fine Sunday +morning, is to sit at their doors, hunting in each other’s heads. But +their dwellings are so close and confined that if those parts of the city +had been beaten down by Massena in the time of the terrible Blockade, it +would have at least occasioned one public benefit among many misfortunes. + +The Peasant Women, with naked feet and legs, are so constantly washing +clothes, in the public tanks, and in every stream and ditch, that one +cannot help wondering, in the midst of all this dirt, who wears them when +they are clean. The custom is to lay the wet linen which is being +operated upon, on a smooth stone, and hammer away at it, with a flat +wooden mallet. This they do, as furiously as if they were revenging +themselves on dress in general for being connected with the Fall of +Mankind. + +It is not unusual to see, lying on the edge of the tank at these times, +or on another flat stone, an unfortunate baby, tightly swathed up, arms +and legs and all, in an enormous quantity of wrapper, so that it is +unable to move a toe or finger. This custom (which we often see +represented in old pictures) is universal among the common people. A +child is left anywhere without the possibility of crawling away, or is +accidentally knocked off a shelf, or tumbled out of bed, or is hung up to +a hook now and then, and left dangling like a doll at an English +rag-shop, without the least inconvenience to anybody. + +I was sitting, one Sunday, soon after my arrival, in the little country +church of San Martino, a couple of miles from the city, while a baptism +took place. I saw the priest, and an attendant with a large taper, and a +man, and a woman, and some others; but I had no more idea, until the +ceremony was all over, that it was a baptism, or that the curious little +stiff instrument, that was passed from one to another, in the course of +the ceremony, by the handle—like a short poker—was a child, than I had +that it was my own christening. I borrowed the child afterwards, for a +minute or two (it was lying across the font then), and found it very red +in the face but perfectly quiet, and not to be bent on any terms. The +number of cripples in the streets, soon ceased to surprise me. + +There are plenty of Saints’ and Virgin’s Shrines, of course; generally at +the corners of streets. The favourite memento to the Faithful, about +Genoa, is a painting, representing a peasant on his knees, with a spade +and some other agricultural implements beside him; and the Madonna, with +the Infant Saviour in her arms, appearing to him in a cloud. This is the +legend of the Madonna della Guardia: a chapel on a mountain within a few +miles, which is in high repute. It seems that this peasant lived all +alone by himself, tilling some land atop of the mountain, where, being a +devout man, he daily said his prayers to the Virgin in the open air; for +his hut was a very poor one. Upon a certain day, the Virgin appeared to +him, as in the picture, and said, ‘Why do you pray in the open air, and +without a priest?’ The peasant explained because there was neither +priest nor church at hand—a very uncommon complaint indeed in Italy. ‘I +should wish, then,’ said the Celestial Visitor, ‘to have a chapel built +here, in which the prayers of the Faithful may be offered up.’ ‘But, +Santissima Madonna,’ said the peasant, ‘I am a poor man; and chapels +cannot be built without money. They must be supported, too, Santissima; +for to have a chapel and not support it liberally, is a wickedness—a +deadly sin.’ This sentiment gave great satisfaction to the visitor. +‘Go!’ said she. ‘There is such a village in the valley on the left, and +such another village in the valley on the right, and such another village +elsewhere, that will gladly contribute to the building of a chapel. Go +to them! Relate what you have seen; and do not doubt that sufficient +money will be forthcoming to erect my chapel, or that it will, +afterwards, be handsomely maintained.’ All of which (miraculously) +turned out to be quite true. And in proof of this prediction and +revelation, there is the chapel of the Madonna della Guardia, rich and +flourishing at this day. + +The splendour and variety of the Genoese churches, can hardly be +exaggerated. The church of the Annunciata especially: built, like many +of the others, at the cost of one noble family, and now in slow progress +of repair: from the outer door to the utmost height of the high cupola, +is so elaborately painted and set in gold, that it looks (as SIMOND +describes it, in his charming book on Italy) like a great enamelled +snuff-box. Most of the richer churches contain some beautiful pictures, +or other embellishments of great price, almost universally set, side by +side, with sprawling effigies of maudlin monks, and the veriest trash and +tinsel ever seen. + +It may be a consequence of the frequent direction of the popular mind, +and pocket, to the souls in Purgatory, but there is very little +tenderness for the _bodies_ of the dead here. For the very poor, there +are, immediately outside one angle of the walls, and behind a jutting +point of the fortification, near the sea, certain common pits—one for +every day in the year—which all remain closed up, until the turn of each +comes for its daily reception of dead bodies. Among the troops in the +town, there are usually some Swiss: more or less. When any of these die, +they are buried out of a fund maintained by such of their countrymen as +are resident in Genoa. Their providing coffins for these men is matter +of great astonishment to the authorities. + +Certainly, the effect of this promiscuous and indecent splashing down of +dead people in so many wells, is bad. It surrounds Death with revolting +associations, that insensibly become connected with those whom Death is +approaching. Indifference and avoidance are the natural result; and all +the softening influences of the great sorrow are harshly disturbed. + +There is a ceremony when an old Cavaliére or the like, expires, of +erecting a pile of benches in the cathedral, to represent his bier; +covering them over with a pall of black velvet; putting his hat and sword +on the top; making a little square of seats about the whole; and sending +out formal invitations to his friends and acquaintances to come and sit +there, and hear Mass: which is performed at the principal Altar, +decorated with an infinity of candles for that purpose. + +When the better kind of people die, or are at the point of death, their +nearest relations generally walk off: retiring into the country for a +little change, and leaving the body to be disposed of, without any +superintendence from them. The procession is usually formed, and the +coffin borne, and the funeral conducted, by a body of persons called a +Confratérnita, who, as a kind of voluntary penance, undertake to perform +these offices, in regular rotation, for the dead; but who, mingling +something of pride with their humility, are dressed in a loose garment +covering their whole person, and wear a hood concealing the face; with +breathing-holes and apertures for the eyes. The effect of this costume +is very ghastly: especially in the case of a certain Blue Confratérnita +belonging to Genoa, who, to say the least of them, are very ugly +customers, and who look—suddenly encountered in their pious ministration +in the streets—as if they were Ghoules or Demons, bearing off the body +for themselves. + +Although such a custom may be liable to the abuse attendant on many +Italian customs, of being recognised as a means of establishing a current +account with Heaven, on which to draw, too easily, for future bad +actions, or as an expiation for past misdeeds, it must be admitted to be +a good one, and a practical one, and one involving unquestionably good +works. A voluntary service like this, is surely better than the imposed +penance (not at all an infrequent one) of giving so many licks to such +and such a stone in the pavement of the cathedral; or than a vow to the +Madonna to wear nothing but blue for a year or two. This is supposed to +give great delight above; blue being (as is well known) the Madonna’s +favourite colour. Women who have devoted themselves to this act of +Faith, are very commonly seen walking in the streets. + +There are three theatres in the city, besides an old one now rarely +opened. The most important—the Carlo Felice: the opera-house of Genoa—is +a very splendid, commodious, and beautiful theatre. A company of +comedians were acting there, when we arrived: and soon after their +departure, a second-rate opera company came. The great season is not +until the carnival time—in the spring. Nothing impressed me, so much, in +my visits here (which were pretty numerous) as the uncommonly hard and +cruel character of the audience, who resent the slightest defect, take +nothing good-humouredly, seem to be always lying in wait for an +opportunity to hiss, and spare the actresses as little as the actors. + +But, as there is nothing else of a public nature at which they are +allowed to express the least disapprobation, perhaps they are resolved to +make the most of this opportunity. + +There are a great number of Piedmontese officers too, who are allowed the +privilege of kicking their heels in the pit, for next to nothing: +gratuitous, or cheap accommodation for these gentlemen being insisted on, +by the Governor, in all public or semi-public entertainments. They are +lofty critics in consequence, and infinitely more exacting than if they +made the unhappy manager’s fortune. + +The TEATRO DIURNO, or Day Theatre, is a covered stage in the open air, +where the performances take place by daylight, in the cool of the +afternoon; commencing at four or five o’clock, and lasting, some three +hours. It is curious, sitting among the audience, to have a fine view of +the neighbouring hills and houses, and to see the neighbours at their +windows looking on, and to hear the bells of the churches and convents +ringing at most complete cross-purposes with the scene. Beyond this, and +the novelty of seeing a play in the fresh pleasant air, with the +darkening evening closing in, there is nothing very exciting or +characteristic in the performances. The actors are indifferent; and +though they sometimes represent one of Goldoni’s comedies, the staple of +the Drama is French. Anything like nationality is dangerous to despotic +governments, and Jesuit-beleaguered kings. + +The Theatre of Puppets, or Marionetti—a famous company from Milan—is, +without any exception, the drollest exhibition I ever beheld in my life. +I never saw anything so exquisitely ridiculous. They _look_ between four +and five feet high, but are really much smaller; for when a musician in +the orchestra happens to put his hat on the stage, it becomes alarmingly +gigantic, and almost blots out an actor. They usually play a comedy, and +a ballet. The comic man in the comedy I saw one summer night, is a +waiter in an hotel. There never was such a locomotive actor, since the +world began. Great pains are taken with him. He has extra joints in his +legs: and a practical eye, with which he winks at the pit, in a manner +that is absolutely insupportable to a stranger, but which the initiated +audience, mainly composed of the common people, receive (so they do +everything else) quite as a matter of course, and as if he were a man. +His spirits are prodigious. He continually shakes his legs, and winks +his eye. And there is a heavy father with grey hair, who sits down on +the regular conventional stage-bank, and blesses his daughter in the +regular conventional way, who is tremendous. No one would suppose it +possible that anything short of a real man could be so tedious. It is +the triumph of art. + +In the ballet, an Enchanter runs away with the Bride, in the very hour of +her nuptials, He brings her to his cave, and tries to soothe her. They +sit down on a sofa (the regular sofa! in the regular place, O. P. Second +Entrance!) and a procession of musicians enters; one creature playing a +drum, and knocking himself off his legs at every blow. These failing to +delight her, dancers appear. Four first; then two; _the_ two; the +flesh-coloured two. The way in which they dance; the height to which +they spring; the impossible and inhuman extent to which they pirouette; +the revelation of their preposterous legs; the coming down with a pause, +on the very tips of their toes, when the music requires it; the +gentleman’s retiring up, when it is the lady’s turn; and the lady’s +retiring up, when it is the gentleman’s turn; the final passion of a +pas-de-deux; and the going off with a bound!—I shall never see a real +ballet, with a composed countenance again. + +I went, another night, to see these Puppets act a play called ‘St. +Helena, or the Death of Napoleon.’ It began by the disclosure of +Napoleon, with an immense head, seated on a sofa in his chamber at St. +Helena; to whom his valet entered with this obscure announcement: + +‘Sir Yew ud se on Low?’ (the _ow_, as in cow). + +Sir Hudson (that you could have seen his regimentals!) was a perfect +mammoth of a man, to Napoleon; hideously ugly, with a monstrously +disproportionate face, and a great clump for the lower-jaw, to express +his tyrannical and obdurate nature. He began his system of persecution, +by calling his prisoner ‘General Buonaparte;’ to which the latter +replied, with the deepest tragedy, ‘Sir Yew ud se on Low, call me not +thus. Repeat that phrase and leave me! I am Napoleon, Emperor of +France!’ Sir Yew ud se on, nothing daunted, proceeded to entertain him +with an ordinance of the British Government, regulating the state he +should preserve, and the furniture of his rooms: and limiting his +attendants to four or five persons. ‘Four or five for _me_!’ said +Napoleon. ‘Me! One hundred thousand men were lately at my sole command; +and this English officer talks of four or five for _me_!’ Throughout the +piece, Napoleon (who talked very like the real Napoleon, and was, for +ever, having small soliloquies by himself) was very bitter on ‘these +English officers,’ and ‘these English soldiers;’ to the great +satisfaction of the audience, who were perfectly delighted to have Low +bullied; and who, whenever Low said ‘General Buonaparte’ (which he always +did: always receiving the same correction), quite execrated him. It +would be hard to say why; for Italians have little cause to sympathise +with Napoleon, Heaven knows. + +There was no plot at all, except that a French officer, disguised as an +Englishman, came to propound a plan of escape; and being discovered, but +not before Napoleon had magnanimously refused to steal his freedom, was +immediately ordered off by Low to be hanged. In two very long speeches, +which Low made memorable, by winding up with ‘Yas!’—to show that he was +English—which brought down thunders of applause. Napoleon was so +affected by this catastrophe, that he fainted away on the spot, and was +carried out by two other puppets. Judging from what followed, it would +appear that he never recovered the shock; for the next act showed him, in +a clean shirt, in his bed (curtains crimson and white), where a lady, +prematurely dressed in mourning, brought two little children, who kneeled +down by the bedside, while he made a decent end; the last word on his +lips being ‘Vatterlo.’ + +It was unspeakably ludicrous. Buonaparte’s boots were so wonderfully +beyond control, and did such marvellous things of their own accord: +doubling themselves up, and getting under tables, and dangling in the +air, and sometimes skating away with him, out of all human knowledge, +when he was in full speech—mischances which were not rendered the less +absurd, by a settled melancholy depicted in his face. To put an end to +one conference with Low, he had to go to a table, and read a book: when +it was the finest spectacle I ever beheld, to see his body bending over +the volume, like a boot-jack, and his sentimental eyes glaring +obstinately into the pit. He was prodigiously good, in bed, with an +immense collar to his shirt, and his little hands outside the coverlet. +So was Dr. Antommarchi, represented by a puppet with long lank hair, like +Mawworm’s, who, in consequence of some derangement of his wires, hovered +about the couch like a vulture, and gave medical opinions in the air. He +was almost as good as Low, though the latter was great at all times—a +decided brute and villain, beyond all possibility of mistake. Low was +especially fine at the last, when, hearing the doctor and the valet say, +‘The Emperor is dead!’ he pulled out his watch, and wound up the piece +(not the watch) by exclaiming, with characteristic brutality, ‘Ha! ha! +Eleven minutes to six! The General dead! and the spy hanged!’ This +brought the curtain down, triumphantly. + + * * * * * + +There is not in Italy, they say (and I believe them), a lovelier +residence than the Palazzo Peschiere, or Palace of the Fishponds, whither +we removed as soon as our three months’ tenancy of the Pink Jail at +Albaro had ceased and determined. + +It stands on a height within the walls of Genoa, but aloof from the town: +surrounded by beautiful gardens of its own, adorned with statues, vases, +fountains, marble basins, terraces, walks of orange-trees and +lemon-trees, groves of roses and camellias. All its apartments are +beautiful in their proportions and decorations; but the great hall, some +fifty feet in height, with three large windows at the end, overlooking +the whole town of Genoa, the harbour, and the neighbouring sea, affords +one of the most fascinating and delightful prospects in the world. Any +house more cheerful and habitable than the great rooms are, within, it +would be difficult to conceive; and certainly nothing more delicious than +the scene without, in sunshine or in moonlight, could be imagined. It is +more like an enchanted place in an Eastern story than a grave and sober +lodging. + +How you may wander on, from room to room, and never tire of the wild +fancies on the walls and ceilings, as bright in their fresh colouring as +if they had been painted yesterday; or how one floor, or even the great +hall which opens on eight other rooms, is a spacious promenade; or how +there are corridors and bed-chambers above, which we never use and rarely +visit, and scarcely know the way through; or how there is a view of a +perfectly different character on each of the four sides of the building; +matters little. But that prospect from the hall is like a vision to me. +I go back to it, in fancy, as I have done in calm reality a hundred times +a day; and stand there, looking out, with the sweet scents from the +garden rising up about me, in a perfect dream of happiness. + +There lies all Genoa, in beautiful confusion, with its many churches, +monasteries, and convents, pointing up into the sunny sky; and down below +me, just where the roofs begin, a solitary convent parapet, fashioned +like a gallery, with an iron across at the end, where sometimes early in +the morning, I have seen a little group of dark-veiled nuns gliding +sorrowfully to and fro, and stopping now and then to peep down upon the +waking world in which they have no part. Old Monte Faccio, brightest of +hills in good weather, but sulkiest when storms are coming on, is here, +upon the left. The Fort within the walls (the good King built it to +command the town, and beat the houses of the Genoese about their ears, in +case they should be discontented) commands that height upon the right. +The broad sea lies beyond, in front there; and that line of coast, +beginning by the light-house, and tapering away, a mere speck in the rosy +distance, is the beautiful coast road that leads to Nice. The garden +near at hand, among the roofs and houses: all red with roses and fresh +with little fountains: is the Acqua Sola—a public promenade, where the +military band plays gaily, and the white veils cluster thick, and the +Genoese nobility ride round, and round, and round, in state-clothes and +coaches at least, if not in absolute wisdom. Within a stone’s-throw, as +it seems, the audience of the Day Theatre sit: their faces turned this +way. But as the stage is hidden, it is very odd, without a knowledge of +the cause, to see their faces changed so suddenly from earnestness to +laughter; and odder still, to hear the rounds upon rounds of applause, +rattling in the evening air, to which the curtain falls. But, being +Sunday night, they act their best and most attractive play. And now, the +sun is going down, in such magnificent array of red, and green, and +golden light, as neither pen nor pencil could depict; and to the ringing +of the vesper bells, darkness sets in at once, without a twilight. Then, +lights begin to shine in Genoa, and on the country road; and the +revolving lanthorn out at sea there, flashing, for an instant, on this +palace front and portico, illuminates it as if there were a bright moon +bursting from behind a cloud; then, merges it in deep obscurity. And +this, so far as I know, is the only reason why the Genoese avoid it after +dark, and think it haunted. + +My memory will haunt it, many nights, in time to come; but nothing worse, +I will engage. The same Ghost will occasionally sail away, as I did one +pleasant autumn evening, into the bright prospect, and sniff the morning +air at Marseilles. + +The corpulent hairdresser was still sitting in his slippers outside his +shop-door there, but the twirling ladies in the window, with the natural +inconstancy of their sex, had ceased to twirl, and were languishing, +stock still, with their beautiful faces addressed to blind corners of the +establishment, where it was impossible for admirers to penetrate. + +The steamer had come from Genoa in a delicious run of eighteen hours, and +we were going to run back again by the Cornice road from Nice: not being +satisfied to have seen only the outsides of the beautiful towns that rise +in picturesque white clusters from among the olive woods, and rocks, and +hills, upon the margin of the Sea. + +The Boat which started for Nice that night, at eight o’clock, was very +small, and so crowded with goods that there was scarcely room to move; +neither was there anything to cat on board, except bread; nor to drink, +except coffee. But being due at Nice at about eight or so in the +morning, this was of no consequence; so when we began to wink at the +bright stars, in involuntary acknowledgment of their winking at us, we +turned into our berths, in a crowded, but cool little cabin, and slept +soundly till morning. + +The Boat, being as dull and dogged a little boat as ever was built, it +was within an hour of noon when we turned into Nice Harbour, where we +very little expected anything but breakfast. But we were laden with +wool. Wool must not remain in the Custom-house at Marseilles more than +twelve months at a stretch, without paying duty. It is the custom to +make fictitious removals of unsold wool to evade this law; to take it +somewhere when the twelve months are nearly out; bring it straight back +again; and warehouse it, as a new cargo, for nearly twelve months longer. +This wool of ours, had come originally from some place in the East. It +was recognised as Eastern produce, the moment we entered the harbour. +Accordingly, the gay little Sunday boats, full of holiday people, which +had come off to greet us, were warned away by the authorities; we were +declared in quarantine; and a great flag was solemnly run up to the +mast-head on the wharf, to make it known to all the town. + +It was a very hot day indeed. We were unshaved, unwashed, undressed, +unfed, and could hardly enjoy the absurdity of lying blistering in a lazy +harbour, with the town looking on from a respectful distance, all manner +of whiskered men in cocked hats discussing our fate at a remote +guard-house, with gestures (we looked very hard at them through +telescopes) expressive of a week’s detention at least: and nothing +whatever the matter all the time. But even in this crisis the brave +Courier achieved a triumph. He telegraphed somebody (_I_ saw nobody) +either naturally connected with the hotel, or put _en rapport_ with the +establishment for that occasion only. The telegraph was answered, and in +half an hour or less, there came a loud shout from the guard-house. The +captain was wanted. Everybody helped the captain into his boat. +Everybody got his luggage, and said we were going. The captain rowed +away, and disappeared behind a little jutting corner of the +Galley-slaves’ Prison: and presently came back with something, very +sulkily. The brave Courier met him at the side, and received the +something as its rightful owner. It was a wicker basket, folded in a +linen cloth; and in it were two great bottles of wine, a roast fowl, some +salt fish chopped with garlic, a great loaf of bread, a dozen or so of +peaches, and a few other trifles. When we had selected our own +breakfast, the brave Courier invited a chosen party to partake of these +refreshments, and assured them that they need not be deterred by motives +of delicacy, as he would order a second basket to be furnished at their +expense. Which he did—no one knew how—and by-and-by, the captain being +again summoned, again sulkily returned with another something; over which +my popular attendant presided as before: carving with a clasp-knife, his +own personal property, something smaller than a Roman sword. + +The whole party on board were made merry by these unexpected supplies; +but none more so than a loquacious little Frenchman, who got drunk in +five minutes, and a sturdy Cappuccíno Friar, who had taken everybody’s +fancy mightily, and was one of the best friars in the world, I verily +believe. + +He had a free, open countenance; and a rich brown, flowing beard; and was +a remarkably handsome man, of about fifty. He had come up to us, early +in the morning, and inquired whether we were sure to be at Nice by +eleven; saying that he particularly wanted to know, because if we reached +it by that time he would have to perform Mass, and must deal with the +consecrated wafer, fasting; whereas, if there were no chance of his being +in time, he would immediately breakfast. He made this communication, +under the idea that the brave Courier was the captain; and indeed he +looked much more like it than anybody else on board. Being assured that +we should arrive in good time, he fasted, and talked, fasting, to +everybody, with the most charming good humour; answering jokes at the +expense of friars, with other jokes at the expense of laymen, and saying +that, friar as he was, he would engage to take up the two strongest men +on board, one after the other, with his teeth, and carry them along the +deck. Nobody gave him the opportunity, but I dare say he could have done +it; for he was a gallant, noble figure of a man, even in the Cappuccíno +dress, which is the ugliest and most ungainly that can well be. + +All this had given great delight to the loquacious Frenchman, who +gradually patronised the Friar very much, and seemed to commiserate him +as one who might have been born a Frenchman himself, but for an +unfortunate destiny. Although his patronage was such as a mouse might +bestow upon a lion, he had a vast opinion of its condescension; and in +the warmth of that sentiment, occasionally rose on tiptoe, to slap the +Friar on the back. + +When the baskets arrived: it being then too late for Mass: the Friar went +to work bravely: eating prodigiously of the cold meat and bread, drinking +deep draughts of the wine, smoking cigars, taking snuff, sustaining an +uninterrupted conversation with all hands, and occasionally running to +the boat’s side and hailing somebody on shore with the intelligence that +we _must_ be got out of this quarantine somehow or other, as he had to +take part in a great religious procession in the afternoon. After this, +he would come back, laughing lustily from pure good humour: while the +Frenchman wrinkled his small face into ten thousand creases, and said how +droll it was, and what a brave boy was that Friar! At length the heat of +the sun without, and the wine within, made the Frenchman sleepy. So, in +the noontide of his patronage of his gigantic protégé, he lay down among +the wool, and began to snore. + +It was four o’clock before we were released; and the Frenchman, dirty and +woolly, and snuffy, was still sleeping when the Friar went ashore. As +soon as we were free, we all hurried away, to wash and dress, that we +might make a decent appearance at the procession; and I saw no more of +the Frenchman until we took up our station in the main street to see it +pass, when he squeezed himself into a front place, elaborately renovated; +threw back his little coat, to show a broad-barred velvet waistcoat, +sprinkled all over with stars; then adjusted himself and his cane so as +utterly to bewilder and transfix the Friar, when he should appear. + +The procession was a very long one, and included an immense number of +people divided into small parties; each party chanting nasally, on its +own account, without reference to any other, and producing a most dismal +result. There were angels, crosses, Virgins carried on flat boards +surrounded by Cupids, crowns, saints, missals, infantry, tapers, monks, +nuns, relics, dignitaries of the church in green hats, walking under +crimson parasols: and, here and there, a species of sacred street-lamp +hoisted on a pole. We looked out anxiously for the Cappuccíni, and +presently their brown robes and corded girdles were seen coming on, in a +body. + +I observed the little Frenchman chuckle over the idea that when the Friar +saw him in the broad-barred waistcoat, he would mentally exclaim, ‘Is +that my Patron! _That_ distinguished man!’ and would be covered with +confusion. Ah! never was the Frenchman so deceived. As our friend the +Cappuccíno advanced, with folded arms, he looked straight into the visage +of the little Frenchman, with a bland, serene, composed abstraction, not +to be described. There was not the faintest trace of recognition or +amusement on his features; not the smallest consciousness of bread and +meat, wine, snuff, or cigars. ‘C’est lui-même,’ I heard the little +Frenchman say, in some doubt. Oh yes, it was himself. It was not his +brother or his nephew, very like him. It was he. He walked in great +state: being one of the Superiors of the Order: and looked his part to +admiration. There never was anything so perfect of its kind as the +contemplative way in which he allowed his placid gaze to rest on us, his +late companions, as if he had never seen us in his life and didn’t see us +then. The Frenchman, quite humbled, took off his hat at last, but the +Friar still passed on, with the same imperturbable serenity; and the +broad-barred waistcoat, fading into the crowd, was seen no more. + +The procession wound up with a discharge of musketry that shook all the +windows in the town. Next afternoon we started for Genoa, by the famed +Cornice road. + +The half-French, half-Italian Vetturíno, who undertook, with his little +rattling carriage and pair, to convey us thither in three days, was a +careless, good-looking fellow, whose light-heartedness and singing +propensities knew no bounds as long as we went on smoothly. So long, he +had a word and a smile, and a flick of his whip, for all the peasant +girls, and odds and ends of the Sonnambula for all the echoes. So long, +he went jingling through every little village, with bells on his horses +and rings in his ears: a very meteor of gallantry and cheerfulness. But, +it was highly characteristic to see him under a slight reverse of +circumstances, when, in one part of the journey, we came to a narrow +place where a waggon had broken down and stopped up the road. His hands +were twined in his hair immediately, as if a combination of all the +direst accidents in life had suddenly fallen on his devoted head. He +swore in French, prayed in Italian, and went up and down, beating his +feet on the ground in a very ecstasy of despair. There were various +carters and mule-drivers assembled round the broken waggon, and at last +some man of an original turn of mind, proposed that a general and joint +effort should be made to get things to-rights again, and clear the way—an +idea which I verily believe would never have presented itself to our +friend, though we had remained there until now. It was done at no great +cost of labour; but at every pause in the doing, his hands were wound in +his hair again, as if there were no ray of hope to lighten his misery. +The moment he was on his box once more, and clattering briskly down hill, +he returned to the Sonnambula and the peasant girls, as if it were not in +the power of misfortune to depress him. + +Much of the romance of the beautiful towns and villages on this beautiful +road, disappears when they are entered, for many of them are very +miserable. The streets are narrow, dark, and dirty; the inhabitants lean +and squalid; and the withered old women, with their wiry grey hair +twisted up into a knot on the top of the head, like a pad to carry loads +on, are so intensely ugly, both along the Riviera, and in Genoa, too, +that, seen straggling about in dim doorways with their spindles, or +crooning together in by-corners, they are like a population of +Witches—except that they certainly are not to be suspected of brooms or +any other instrument of cleanliness. Neither are the pig-skins, in +common use to hold wine, and hung out in the sun in all directions, by +any means ornamental, as they always preserve the form of very bloated +pigs, with their heads and legs cut off, dangling upside-down by their +own tails. + +These towns, as they are seen in the approach, however: nestling, with +their clustering roofs and towers, among trees on steep hill-sides, or +built upon the brink of noble bays: are charming. The vegetation is, +everywhere, luxuriant and beautiful, and the Palm-tree makes a novel +feature in the novel scenery. In one town, San Remo—a most extraordinary +place, built on gloomy open arches, so that one might ramble underneath +the whole town—there are pretty terrace gardens; in other towns, there is +the clang of shipwrights’ hammers, and the building of small vessels on +the beach. In some of the broad bays, the fleets of Europe might ride at +anchor. In every case, each little group of houses presents, in the +distance, some enchanting confusion of picturesque and fanciful shapes. + +The road itself—now high above the glittering sea, which breaks against +the foot of the precipice: now turning inland to sweep the shore of a +bay: now crossing the stony bed of a mountain stream: now low down on the +beach: now winding among riven rocks of many forms and colours: now +chequered by a solitary ruined tower, one of a chain of towers built, in +old time, to protect the coast from the invasions of the Barbary +Corsairs—presents new beauties every moment. When its own striking +scenery is passed, and it trails on through a long line of suburb, lying +on the flat sea-shore, to Genoa, then, the changing glimpses of that +noble city and its harbour, awaken a new source of interest; freshened by +every huge, unwieldy, half-inhabited old house in its outskirts: and +coming to its climax when the city gate is reached, and all Genoa with +its beautiful harbour, and neighbouring hills, bursts proudly on the +view. + + + + +TO PARMA, MODENA, AND BOLOGNA + + +I STROLLED away from Genoa on the 6th of November, bound for a good many +places (England among them), but first for Piacenza; for which town I +started in the _coupé_ of a machine something like a travelling caravan, +in company with the brave Courier, and a lady with a large dog, who +howled dolefully, at intervals, all night. It was very wet, and very +cold; very dark, and very dismal; we travelled at the rate of barely four +miles an hour, and stopped nowhere for refreshment. At ten o’clock next +morning, we changed coaches at Alessandria, where we were packed up in +another coach (the body whereof would have been small for a fly), in +company with a very old priest; a young Jesuit, his companion—who carried +their breviaries and other books, and who, in the exertion of getting +into the coach, had made a gash of pink leg between his black stocking +and his black knee-shorts, that reminded one of Hamlet in Ophelia’s +closet, only it was visible on both legs—a provincial Avvocáto; and a +gentleman with a red nose that had an uncommon and singular sheen upon +it, which I never observed in the human subject before. In this way we +travelled on, until four o’clock in the afternoon; the roads being still +very heavy, and the coach very slow. To mend the matter, the old priest +was troubled with cramps in his legs, so that he had to give a terrible +yell every ten minutes or so, and be hoisted out by the united efforts of +the company; the coach always stopping for him, with great gravity. This +disorder, and the roads, formed the main subject of conversation. +Finding, in the afternoon, that the _coupé_ had discharged two people, +and had only one passenger inside—a monstrous ugly Tuscan, with a great +purple moustache, of which no man could see the ends when he had his hat +on—I took advantage of its better accommodation, and in company with this +gentleman (who was very conversational and good-humoured) travelled on, +until nearly eleven o’clock at night, when the driver reported that he +couldn’t think of going any farther, and we accordingly made a halt at a +place called Stradella. + +The inn was a series of strange galleries surrounding a yard where our +coach, and a waggon or two, and a lot of fowls, and firewood, were all +heaped up together, higgledy-piggledy; so that you didn’t know, and +couldn’t have taken your oath, which was a fowl and which was a cart. We +followed a sleepy man with a flaring torch, into a great, cold room, +where there were two immensely broad beds, on what looked like two +immensely broad deal dining-tables; another deal table of similar +dimensions in the middle of the bare floor; four windows; and two chairs. +Somebody said it was my room; and I walked up and down it, for half an +hour or so, staring at the Tuscan, the old priest, the young priest, and +the Avvocáto (Red-Nose lived in the town, and had gone home), who sat +upon their beds, and stared at me in return. + +The rather dreary whimsicality of this stage of the proceedings, is +interrupted by an announcement from the Brave (he had been cooking) that +supper is ready; and to the priest’s chamber (the next room and the +counterpart of mine) we all adjourn. The first dish is a cabbage, boiled +with a great quantity of rice in a tureen full of water, and flavoured +with cheese. It is so hot, and we are so cold, that it appears almost +jolly. The second dish is some little bits of pork, fried with pigs’ +kidneys. The third, two red fowls. The fourth, two little red turkeys. +The fifth, a huge stew of garlic and truffles, and I don’t know what +else; and this concludes the entertainment. + +Before I can sit down in my own chamber, and think it of the dampest, the +door opens, and the Brave comes moving in, in the middle of such a +quantity of fuel that he looks like Birnam Wood taking a winter walk. He +kindles this heap in a twinkling, and produces a jorum of hot brandy and +water; for that bottle of his keeps company with the seasons, and now +holds nothing but the purest _eau de vie_. When he has accomplished this +feat, he retires for the night; and I hear him, for an hour afterwards, +and indeed until I fall asleep, making jokes in some outhouse (apparently +under the pillow), where he is smoking cigars with a party of +confidential friends. He never was in the house in his life before; but +he knows everybody everywhere, before he has been anywhere five minutes; +and is certain to have attracted to himself, in the meantime, the +enthusiastic devotion of the whole establishment. + +This is at twelve o’clock at night. At four o’clock next morning, he is +up again, fresher than a full-blown rose; making blazing fires without +the least authority from the landlord; producing mugs of scalding coffee +when nobody else can get anything but cold water; and going out into the +dark streets, and roaring for fresh milk, on the chance of somebody with +a cow getting up to supply it. While the horses are ‘coming,’ I stumble +out into the town too. It seems to be all one little Piazza, with a cold +damp wind blowing in and out of the arches, alternately, in a sort of +pattern. But it is profoundly dark, and raining heavily; and I shouldn’t +know it to-morrow, if I were taken there to try. Which Heaven forbid. + +The horses arrive in about an hour. In the interval, the driver swears; +sometimes Christian oaths, sometimes Pagan oaths. Sometimes, when it is +a long, compound oath, he begins with Christianity and merges into +Paganism. Various messengers are despatched; not so much after the +horses, as after each other; for the first messenger never comes back, +and all the rest imitate him. At length the horses appear, surrounded by +all the messengers; some kicking them, and some dragging them, and all +shouting abuse to them. Then, the old priest, the young priest, the +Avvocáto, the Tuscan, and all of us, take our places; and sleepy voices +proceeding from the doors of extraordinary hutches in divers parts of the +yard, cry out ‘Addio corrière mio! Buon’ viággio, corrière!’ +Salutations which the courier, with his face one monstrous grin, returns +in like manner as we go jolting and wallowing away, through the mud. + +At Piacenza, which was four or five hours’ journey from the inn at +Stradella, we broke up our little company before the hotel door, with +divers manifestations of friendly feeling on all sides. The old priest +was taken with the cramp again, before he had got half-way down the +street; and the young priest laid the bundle of books on a door-step, +while he dutifully rubbed the old gentleman’s legs. The client of the +Avvocáto was waiting for him at the yard-gate, and kissed him on each +cheek, with such a resounding smack, that I am afraid he had either a +very bad case, or a scantily-furnished purse. The Tuscan, with a cigar +in his mouth, went loitering off, carrying his hat in his hand that he +might the better trail up the ends of his dishevelled moustache. And the +brave Courier, as he and I strolled away to look about us, began +immediately to entertain me with the private histories and family affairs +of the whole party. + +A brown, decayed, old town, Piacenza is. A deserted, solitary, +grass-grown place, with ruined ramparts; half filled-up trenches, which +afford a frowsy pasturage to the lean kine that wander about them; and +streets of stern houses, moodily frowning at the other houses over the +way. The sleepiest and shabbiest of soldiery go wandering about, with +the double curse of laziness and poverty, uncouthly wrinkling their +misfitting regimentals; the dirtiest of children play with their +impromptu toys (pigs and mud) in the feeblest of gutters; and the +gauntest of dogs trot in and out of the dullest of archways, in perpetual +search of something to eat, which they never seem to find. A mysterious +and solemn Palace, guarded by two colossal statues, twin Genii of the +place, stands gravely in the midst of the idle town; and the king with +the marble legs, who flourished in the time of the thousand and one +Nights, might live contentedly inside of it, and never have the energy, +in his upper half of flesh and blood, to want to come out. + +What a strange, half-sorrowful and half-delicious doze it is, to ramble +through these places gone to sleep and basking in the sun! Each, in its +turn, appears to be, of all the mouldy, dreary, God-forgotten towns in +the wide world, the chief. Sitting on this hillock where a bastion used +to be, and where a noisy fortress was, in the time of the old Roman +station here, I became aware that I have never known till now, what it is +to be lazy. A dormouse must surely be in very much the same condition +before he retires under the wool in his cage; or a tortoise before he +buries himself. + +I feel that I am getting rusty. That any attempt to think, would be +accompanied with a creaking noise. That there is nothing, anywhere, to +be done, or needing to be done. That there is no more human progress, +motion, effort, or advancement, of any kind beyond this. That the whole +scheme stopped here centuries ago, and laid down to rest until the Day of +Judgment. + +Never while the brave Courier lives! Behold him jingling out of +Piacenza, and staggering this way, in the tallest posting-chaise ever +seen, so that he looks out of the front window as if he were peeping over +a garden wall; while the postilion, concentrated essence of all the +shabbiness of Italy, pauses for a moment in his animated conversation, to +touch his hat to a blunt-nosed little Virgin, hardly less shabby than +himself, enshrined in a plaster Punch’s show outside the town. + +In Genoa, and thereabouts, they train the vines on trellis-work, +supported on square clumsy pillars, which, in themselves, are anything +but picturesque. But, here, they twine them around trees, and let them +trail among the hedges; and the vineyards are full of trees, regularly +planted for this purpose, each with its own vine twining and clustering +about it. Their leaves are now of the brightest gold and deepest red; +and never was anything so enchantingly graceful and full of beauty. +Through miles of these delightful forms and colours, the road winds its +way. The wild festoons, the elegant wreaths, and crowns, and garlands of +all shapes; the fairy nets flung over great trees, and making them +prisoners in sport; the tumbled heaps and mounds of exquisite shapes upon +the ground; how rich and beautiful they are! And every now and then, a +long, long line of trees, will be all bound and garlanded together: as if +they had taken hold of one another, and were coming dancing down the +field! + +Parma has cheerful, stirring streets, for an Italian town; and +consequently is not so characteristic as many places of less note. +Always excepting the retired Piazza, where the Cathedral, Baptistery, and +Campanile—ancient buildings, of a sombre brown, embellished with +innumerable grotesque monsters and dreamy-looking creatures carved in +marble and red stone—are clustered in a noble and magnificent repose. +Their silent presence was only invaded, when I saw them, by the +twittering of the many birds that were flying in and out of the crevices +in the stones and little nooks in the architecture, where they had made +their nests. They were busy, rising from the cold shade of Temples made +with hands, into the sunny air of Heaven. Not so the worshippers within, +who were listening to the same drowsy chaunt, or kneeling before the same +kinds of images and tapers, or whispering, with their heads bowed down, +in the selfsame dark confessionals, as I had left in Genoa and everywhere +else. + +The decayed and mutilated paintings with which this church is covered, +have, to my thinking, a remarkably mournful and depressing influence. It +is miserable to see great works of art—something of the Souls of +Painters—perishing and fading away, like human forms. This cathedral is +odorous with the rotting of Correggio’s frescoes in the Cupola. Heaven +knows how beautiful they may have been at one time. Connoisseurs fall +into raptures with them now; but such a labyrinth of arms and legs: such +heaps of foreshortened limbs, entangled and involved and jumbled +together: no operative surgeon, gone mad, could imagine in his wildest +delirium. + +There is a very interesting subterranean church here: the roof supported +by marble pillars, behind each of which there seemed to be at least one +beggar in ambush: to say nothing of the tombs and secluded altars. From +every one of these lurking-places, such crowds of phantom-looking men and +women, leading other men and women with twisted limbs, or chattering +jaws, or paralytic gestures, or idiotic heads, or some other sad +infirmity, came hobbling out to beg, that if the ruined frescoes in the +cathedral above, had been suddenly animated, and had retired to this +lower church, they could hardly have made a greater confusion, or +exhibited a more confounding display of arms and legs. + +There is Petrarch’s Monument, too; and there is the Baptistery, with its +beautiful arches and immense font; and there is a gallery containing some +very remarkable pictures, whereof a few were being copied by hairy-faced +artists, with little velvet caps more off their heads than on. There is +the Farnese Palace, too; and in it one of the dreariest spectacles of +decay that ever was seen—a grand, old, gloomy theatre, mouldering away. + +It is a large wooden structure, of the horse-shoe shape; the lower seats +arranged upon the Roman plan, but above them, great heavy chambers; +rather than boxes, where the Nobles sat, remote in their proud state. +Such desolation as has fallen on this theatre, enhanced in the +spectator’s fancy by its gay intention and design, none but worms can be +familiar with. A hundred and ten years have passed, since any play was +acted here. The sky shines in through the gashes in the roof; the boxes +are dropping down, wasting away, and only tenanted by rats; damp and +mildew smear the faded colours, and make spectral maps upon the panels; +lean rags are dangling down where there were gay festoons on the +Proscenium; the stage has rotted so, that a narrow wooden gallery is +thrown across it, or it would sink beneath the tread, and bury the +visitor in the gloomy depth beneath. The desolation and decay impress +themselves on all the senses. The air has a mouldering smell, and an +earthy taste; any stray outer sounds that straggle in with some lost +sunbeam, are muffled and heavy; and the worm, the maggot, and the rot +have changed the surface of the wood beneath the touch, as time will seam +and roughen a smooth hand. If ever Ghosts act plays, they act them on +this ghostly stage. + +It was most delicious weather, when we came into Modena, where the +darkness of the sombre colonnades over the footways skirting the main +street on either side, was made refreshing and agreeable by the bright +sky, so wonderfully blue. I passed from all the glory of the day, into a +dim cathedral, where High Mass was performing, feeble tapers were +burning, people were kneeling in all directions before all manner of +shrines, and officiating priests were crooning the usual chant, in the +usual, low, dull, drawling, melancholy tone. + +Thinking how strange it was, to find, in every stagnant town, this same +Heart beating with the same monotonous pulsation, the centre of the same +torpid, listless system, I came out by another door, and was suddenly +scared to death by a blast from the shrillest trumpet that ever was +blown. Immediately, came tearing round the corner, an equestrian company +from Paris: marshalling themselves under the walls of the church, and +flouting, with their horses’ heels, the griffins, lions, tigers, and +other monsters in stone and marble, decorating its exterior. First, +there came a stately nobleman with a great deal of hair, and no hat, +bearing an enormous banner, on which was inscribed, MAZEPPA! TO-NIGHT! +Then, a Mexican chief, with a great pear-shaped club on his shoulder, +like Hercules. Then, six or eight Roman chariots: each with a beautiful +lady in extremely short petticoats, and unnaturally pink tights, erect +within: shedding beaming looks upon the crowd, in which there was a +latent expression of discomposure and anxiety, for which I couldn’t +account, until, as the open back of each chariot presented itself, I saw +the immense difficulty with which the pink legs maintained their +perpendicular, over the uneven pavement of the town: which gave me quite +a new idea of the ancient Romans and Britons. The procession was brought +to a close, by some dozen indomitable warriors of different nations, +riding two and two, and haughtily surveying the tame population of +Modena: among whom, however, they occasionally condescended to scatter +largesse in the form of a few handbills. After caracolling among the +lions and tigers, and proclaiming that evening’s entertainments with +blast of trumpet, it then filed off, by the other end of the square, and +left a new and greatly increased dulness behind. + +When the procession had so entirely passed away, that the shrill trumpet +was mild in the distance, and the tail of the last horse was hopelessly +round the corner, the people who had come out of the church to stare at +it, went back again. But one old lady, kneeling on the pavement within, +near the door, had seen it all, and had been immensely interested, +without getting up; and this old lady’s eye, at that juncture, I happened +to catch: to our mutual confusion. She cut our embarrassment very short, +however, by crossing herself devoutly, and going down, at full length, on +her face, before a figure in a fancy petticoat and a gilt crown; which +was so like one of the procession-figures, that perhaps at this hour she +may think the whole appearance a celestial vision. Anyhow, I must +certainly have forgiven her her interest in the Circus, though I had been +her Father Confessor. + +There was a little fiery-eyed old man with a crooked shoulder, in the +cathedral, who took it very ill that I made no effort to see the bucket +(kept in an old tower) which the people of Modena took away from the +people of Bologna in the fourteenth century, and about which there was +war made and a mock-heroic poem by TASSONE, too. Being quite content, +however, to look at the outside of the tower, and feast, in imagination, +on the bucket within; and preferring to loiter in the shade of the tall +Campanile, and about the cathedral; I have no personal knowledge of this +bucket, even at the present time. + +Indeed, we were at Bologna, before the little old man (or the Guide-Book) +would have considered that we had half done justice to the wonders of +Modena. But it is such a delight to me to leave new scenes behind, and +still go on, encountering newer scenes—and, moreover, I have such a +perverse disposition in respect of sights that are cut, and dried, and +dictated—that I fear I sin against similar authorities in every place I +visit. + +Be this as it may, in the pleasant Cemetery at Bologna, I found myself +walking next Sunday morning, among the stately marble tombs and +colonnades, in company with a crowd of Peasants, and escorted by a little +Cicerone of that town, who was excessively anxious for the honour of the +place, and most solicitous to divert my attention from the bad monuments: +whereas he was never tired of extolling the good ones. Seeing this +little man (a good-humoured little man he was, who seemed to have nothing +in his face but shining teeth and eyes) looking wistfully at a certain +plot of grass, I asked him who was buried there. ‘The poor people, +Signore,’ he said, with a shrug and a smile, and stopping to look back at +me—for he always went on a little before, and took off his hat to +introduce every new monument. ‘Only the poor, Signore! It’s very +cheerful. It’s very lively. How green it is, how cool! It’s like a +meadow! There are five,’—holding up all the fingers of his right hand to +express the number, which an Italian peasant will always do, if it be +within the compass of his ten fingers,—‘there are five of my little +children buried there, Signore; just there; a little to the right. Well! +Thanks to God! It’s very cheerful. How green it is, how cool it is! +It’s quite a meadow!’ + +He looked me very hard in the face, and seeing I was sorry for him, took +a pinch of snuff (every Cicerone takes snuff), and made a little bow; +partly in deprecation of his having alluded to such a subject, and partly +in memory of the children and of his favourite saint. It was as +unaffected and as perfectly natural a little bow, as ever man made. +Immediately afterwards, he took his hat off altogether, and begged to +introduce me to the next monument; and his eyes and his teeth shone +brighter than before. + + + + +THROUGH BOLOGNA AND FERRARA + + +THERE was such a very smart official in attendance at the Cemetery where +the little Cicerone had buried his children, that when the little +Cicerone suggested to me, in a whisper, that there would be no offence in +presenting this officer, in return for some slight extra service, with a +couple of pauls (about tenpence, English money), I looked incredulously +at his cocked hat, wash-leather gloves, well-made uniform, and dazzling +buttons, and rebuked the little Cicerone with a grave shake of the head. +For, in splendour of appearance, he was at least equal to the Deputy +Usher of the Black Rod; and the idea of his carrying, as Jeremy Diddler +would say, ‘such a thing as tenpence’ away with him, seemed monstrous. +He took it in excellent part, however, when I made bold to give it him, +and pulled off his cocked hat with a flourish that would have been a +bargain at double the money. + +It seemed to be his duty to describe the monuments to the people—at all +events he was doing so; and when I compared him, like Gulliver in +Brobdingnag, ‘with the Institutions of my own beloved country, I could +not refrain from tears of pride and exultation.’ He had no pace at all; +no more than a tortoise. He loitered as the people loitered, that they +might gratify their curiosity; and positively allowed them, now and then, +to read the inscriptions on the tombs. He was neither shabby, nor +insolent, nor churlish, nor ignorant. He spoke his own language with +perfect propriety, and seemed to consider himself, in his way, a kind of +teacher of the people, and to entertain a just respect both for himself +and them. They would no more have such a man for a Verger in Westminster +Abbey, than they would let the people in (as they do at Bologna) to see +the monuments for nothing. {272} + +Again, an ancient sombre town, under the brilliant sky; with heavy +arcades over the footways of the older streets, and lighter and more +cheerful archways in the newer portions of the town. Again, brown piles +of sacred buildings, with more birds flying in and out of chinks in the +stones; and more snarling monsters for the bases of the pillars. Again, +rich churches, drowsy Masses, curling incense, tinkling bells, priests in +bright vestments: pictures, tapers, laced altar cloths, crosses, images, +and artificial flowers. + +There is a grave and learned air about the city, and a pleasant gloom +upon it, that would leave it, a distinct and separate impression in the +mind, among a crowd of cities, though it were not still further marked in +the traveller’s remembrance by the two brick leaning towers (sufficiently +unsightly in themselves, it must be acknowledged), inclining cross-wise +as if they were bowing stiffly to each other—a most extraordinary +termination to the perspective of some of the narrow streets. The +colleges, and churches too, and palaces: and above all the academy of +Fine Arts, where there are a host of interesting pictures, especially by +GUIDO, DOMENICHINO, and LUDOVICO CARACCI: give it a place of its own in +the memory. Even though these were not, and there were nothing else to +remember it by, the great Meridian on the pavement of the church of San +Petronio, where the sunbeams mark the time among the kneeling people, +would give it a fanciful and pleasant interest. + +Bologna being very full of tourists, detained there by an inundation +which rendered the road to Florence impassable, I was quartered up at the +top of an hotel, in an out-of-the-way room which I never could find: +containing a bed, big enough for a boarding-school, which I couldn’t fall +asleep in. The chief among the waiters who visited this lonely retreat, +where there was no other company but the swallows in the broad eaves over +the window, was a man of one idea in connection with the English; and the +subject of this harmless monomania, was Lord Byron. I made the discovery +by accidentally remarking to him, at breakfast, that the matting with +which the floor was covered, was very comfortable at that season, when he +immediately replied that Milor Beeron had been much attached to that kind +of matting. Observing, at the same moment, that I took no milk, he +exclaimed with enthusiasm, that Milor Beeron had never touched it. At +first, I took it for granted, in my innocence, that he had been one of +the Beeron servants; but no, he said, no, he was in the habit of speaking +about my Lord, to English gentlemen; that was all. He knew all about +him, he said. In proof of it, he connected him with every possible +topic, from the Monte Pulciano wine at dinner (which was grown on an +estate he had owned), to the big bed itself, which was the very model of +his. When I left the inn, he coupled with his final bow in the yard, a +parting assurance that the road by which I was going, had been Milor +Beeron’s favourite ride; and before the horse’s feet had well begun to +clatter on the pavement, he ran briskly up-stairs again, I dare say to +tell some other Englishman in some other solitary room that the guest who +had just departed was Lord Beeron’s living image. + +I had entered Bologna by night—almost midnight—and all along the road +thither, after our entrance into the Papal territory: which is not, in +any part, supremely well governed, Saint Peter’s keys being rather rusty +now; the driver had so worried about the danger of robbers in travelling +after dark, and had so infected the brave Courier, and the two had been +so constantly stopping and getting up and down to look after a +portmanteau which was tied on behind, that I should have felt almost +obliged to any one who would have had the goodness to take it away. +Hence it was stipulated, that, whenever we left Bologna, we should start +so as not to arrive at Ferrara later than eight at night; and a +delightful afternoon and evening journey it was, albeit through a flat +district which gradually became more marshy from the overflow of brooks +and rivers in the recent heavy rains. + +At sunset, when I was walking on alone, while the horses rested, I +arrived upon a little scene, which, by one of those singular mental +operations of which we are all conscious, seemed perfectly familiar to +me, and which I see distinctly now. There was not much in it. In the +blood red light, there was a mournful sheet of water, just stirred by the +evening wind; upon its margin a few trees. In the foreground was a group +of silent peasant girls leaning over the parapet of a little bridge, and +looking, now up at the sky, now down into the water; in the distance, a +deep bell; the shade of approaching night on everything. If I had been +murdered there, in some former life, I could not have seemed to remember +the place more thoroughly, or with a more emphatic chilling of the blood; +and the mere remembrance of it acquired in that minute, is so +strengthened by the imaginary recollection, that I hardly think I could +forget it. + +More solitary, more depopulated, more deserted, old Ferrara, than any +city of the solemn brotherhood! The grass so grows up in the silent +streets, that any one might make hay there, literally, while the sun +shines. But the sun shines with diminished cheerfulness in grim Ferrara; +and the people are so few who pass and re-pass through the places, that +the flesh of its inhabitants might be grass indeed, and growing in the +squares. + +I wonder why the head coppersmith in an Italian town, always lives next +door to the Hotel, or opposite: making the visitor feel as if the beating +hammers were his own heart, palpitating with a deadly energy! I wonder +why jealous corridors surround the bedroom on all sides, and fill it with +unnecessary doors that can’t be shut, and will not open, and abut on +pitchy darkness! I wonder why it is not enough that these distrustful +genii stand agape at one’s dreams all night, but there must also be round +open portholes, high in the wall, suggestive, when a mouse or rat is +heard behind the wainscot, of a somebody scraping the wall with his toes, +in his endeavours to reach one of these portholes and look in! I wonder +why the faggots are so constructed, as to know of no effect but an agony +of heat when they are lighted and replenished, and an agony of cold and +suffocation at all other times! I wonder, above all, why it is the great +feature of domestic architecture in Italian inns, that all the fire goes +up the chimney, except the smoke! + +The answer matters little. Coppersmiths, doors, portholes, smoke, and +faggots, are welcome to me. Give me the smiling face of the attendant, +man or woman; the courteous manner; the amiable desire to please and to +be pleased; the light-hearted, pleasant, simple air—so many jewels set in +dirt—and I am theirs again to-morrow! + +ARIOSTO’S house, TASSO’S prison, a rare old Gothic cathedral, and more +churches of course, are the sights of Ferrara. But the long silent +streets, and the dismantled palaces, where ivy waves in lieu of banners, +and where rank weeds are slowly creeping up the long-untrodden stairs, +are the best sights of all. + +The aspect of this dreary town, half an hour before sunrise one fine +morning, when I left it, was as picturesque as it seemed unreal and +spectral. It was no matter that the people were not yet out of bed; for +if they had all been up and busy, they would have made but little +difference in that desert of a place. It was best to see it, without a +single figure in the picture; a city of the dead, without one solitary +survivor. Pestilence might have ravaged streets, squares, and +market-places; and sack and siege have ruined the old houses, battered +down their doors and windows, and made breaches in their roofs. In one +part, a great tower rose into the air; the only landmark in the +melancholy view. In another, a prodigious castle, with a moat about it, +stood aloof: a sullen city in itself. In the black dungeons of this +castle, Parisina and her lover were beheaded in the dead of night. The +red light, beginning to shine when I looked back upon it, stained its +walls without, as they have, many a time, been stained within, in old +days; but for any sign of life they gave, the castle and the city might +have been avoided by all human creatures, from the moment when the axe +went down upon the last of the two lovers: and might have never vibrated +to another sound + + Beyond the blow that to the block + Pierced through with forced and sullen shock. + +Coming to the Po, which was greatly swollen, and running fiercely, we +crossed it by a floating bridge of boats, and so came into the Austrian +territory, and resumed our journey: through a country of which, for some +miles, a great part was under water. The brave Courier and the soldiery +had first quarrelled, for half an hour or more, over our eternal +passport. But this was a daily relaxation with the Brave, who was always +stricken deaf when shabby functionaries in uniform came, as they +constantly did come, plunging out of wooden boxes to look at it—or in +other words to beg—and who, stone deaf to my entreaties that the man +might have a trifle given him, and we resume our journey in peace, was +wont to sit reviling the functionary in broken English: while the +unfortunate man’s face was a portrait of mental agony framed in the coach +window, from his perfect ignorance of what was being said to his +disparagement. + +There was a postilion, in the course of this day’s journey, as wild and +savagely good-looking a vagabond as you would desire to see. He was a +tall, stout-made, dark-complexioned fellow, with a profusion of shaggy +black hair hanging all over his face, and great black whiskers stretching +down his throat. His dress was a torn suit of rifle green, garnished +here and there with red; a steeple-crowned hat, innocent of nap, with a +broken and bedraggled feather stuck in the band; and a flaming red +neckerchief hanging on his shoulders. He was not in the saddle, but +reposed, quite at his ease, on a sort of low foot-board in front of the +postchaise, down amongst the horses’ tails—convenient for having his +brains kicked out, at any moment. To this Brigand, the brave Courier, +when we were at a reasonable trot, happened to suggest the practicability +of going faster. He received the proposal with a perfect yell of +derision; brandished his whip about his head (such a whip! it was more +like a home-made bow); flung up his heels, much higher than the horses; +and disappeared, in a paroxysm, somewhere in the neighbourhood of the +axle-tree. I fully expected to see him lying in the road, a hundred +yards behind, but up came the steeple-crowned hat again, next minute, and +he was seen reposing, as on a sofa, entertaining himself with the idea, +and crying, ‘Ha, ha! what next! Oh the devil! Faster too! +Shoo—hoo—o—o!’ (This last ejaculation, an inexpressibly defiant hoot.) +Being anxious to reach our immediate destination that night, I ventured, +by-and-by, to repeat the experiment on my own account. It produced +exactly the same effect. Round flew the whip with the same scornful +flourish, up came the heels, down went the steeple-crowned hat, and +presently he reappeared, reposing as before and saying to himself, ‘Ha +ha! what next! Faster too! Oh the devil! Shoo—hoo—o—o!’ + + + + +AN ITALIAN DREAM + + +I HAD been travelling, for some days; resting very little in the night, +and never in the day. The rapid and unbroken succession of novelties +that had passed before me, came back like half-formed dreams; and a crowd +of objects wandered in the greatest confusion through my mind, as I +travelled on, by a solitary road. At intervals, some one among them +would stop, as it were, in its restless flitting to and fro, and enable +me to look at it, quite steadily, and behold it in full distinctness. +After a few moments, it would dissolve, like a view in a magic-lantern; +and while I saw some part of it quite plainly, and some faintly, and some +not at all, would show me another of the many places I had lately seen, +lingering behind it, and coming through it. This was no sooner visible +than, in its turn, it melted into something else. + +At one moment, I was standing again, before the brown old rugged churches +of Modena. As I recognised the curious pillars with grim monsters for +their bases, I seemed to see them, standing by themselves in the quiet +square at Padua, where there were the staid old University, and the +figures, demurely gowned, grouped here and there in the open space about +it. Then, I was strolling in the outskirts of that pleasant city, +admiring the unusual neatness of the dwelling-houses, gardens, and +orchards, as I had seen them a few hours before. In their stead arose, +immediately, the two towers of Bologna; and the most obstinate of all +these objects, failed to hold its ground, a minute, before the monstrous +moated castle of Ferrara, which, like an illustration to a wild romance, +came back again in the red sunrise, lording it over the solitary, +grass-grown, withered town. In short, I had that incoherent but +delightful jumble in my brain, which travellers are apt to have, and are +indolently willing to encourage. Every shake of the coach in which I +sat, half dozing in the dark, appeared to jerk some new recollection out +of its place, and to jerk some other new recollection into it; and in +this state I fell asleep. + +I was awakened after some time (as I thought) by the stopping of the +coach. It was now quite night, and we were at the waterside. There lay +here, a black boat, with a little house or cabin in it of the same +mournful colour. When I had taken my seat in this, the boat was paddled, +by two men, towards a great light, lying in the distance on the sea. + +Ever and again, there was a dismal sigh of wind. It ruffled the water, +and rocked the boat, and sent the dark clouds flying before the stars. I +could not but think how strange it was, to be floating away at that hour: +leaving the land behind, and going on, towards this light upon the sea. +It soon began to burn brighter; and from being one light became a cluster +of tapers, twinkling and shining out of the water, as the boat approached +towards them by a dreamy kind of track, marked out upon the sea by posts +and piles. + +We had floated on, five miles or so, over the dark water, when I heard it +rippling in my dream, against some obstruction near at hand. Looking out +attentively, I saw, through the gloom, a something black and massive—like +a shore, but lying close and flat upon the water, like a raft—which we +were gliding past. The chief of the two rowers said it was a +burial-place. + +Full of the interest and wonder which a cemetery lying out there, in the +lonely sea, inspired, I turned to gaze upon it as it should recede in our +path, when it was quickly shut out from my view. Before I knew by what, +or how, I found that we were gliding up a street—a phantom street; the +houses rising on both sides, from the water, and the black boat gliding +on beneath their windows. Lights were shining from some of these +casements, plumbing the depth of the black stream with their reflected +rays, but all was profoundly silent. + +So we advanced into this ghostly city, continuing to hold our course +through narrow streets and lanes, all filled and flowing with water. +Some of the corners where our way branched off, were so acute and narrow, +that it seemed impossible for the long slender boat to turn them; but the +rowers, with a low melodious cry of warning, sent it skimming on without +a pause. Sometimes, the rowers of another black boat like our own, +echoed the cry, and slackening their speed (as I thought we did ours) +would come flitting past us like a dark shadow. Other boats, of the same +sombre hue, were lying moored, I thought, to painted pillars, near to +dark mysterious doors that opened straight upon the water. Some of these +were empty; in some, the rowers lay asleep; towards one, I saw some +figures coming down a gloomy archway from the interior of a palace: gaily +dressed, and attended by torch-bearers. It was but a glimpse I had of +them; for a bridge, so low and close upon the boat that it seemed ready +to fall down and crush us: one of the many bridges that perplexed the +Dream: blotted them out, instantly. On we went, floating towards the +heart of this strange place—with water all about us where never water was +elsewhere—clusters of houses, churches, heaps of stately buildings +growing out of it—and, everywhere, the same extraordinary silence. +Presently, we shot across a broad and open stream; and passing, as I +thought, before a spacious paved quay, where the bright lamps with which +it was illuminated showed long rows of arches and pillars, of ponderous +construction and great strength, but as light to the eye as garlands of +hoarfrost or gossamer—and where, for the first time, I saw people +walking—arrived at a flight of steps leading from the water to a large +mansion, where, having passed through corridors and galleries +innumerable, I lay down to rest; listening to the black boats stealing up +and down below the window on the rippling water, till I fell asleep. + +The glory of the day that broke upon me in this Dream; its freshness, +motion, buoyancy; its sparkles of the sun in water; its clear blue sky +and rustling air; no waking words can tell. But, from my window, I +looked down on boats and barks; on masts, sails, cordage, flags; on +groups of busy sailors, working at the cargoes of these vessels; on wide +quays, strewn with bales, casks, merchandise of many kinds; on great +ships, lying near at hand in stately indolence; on islands, crowned with +gorgeous domes and turrets: and where golden crosses glittered in the +light, atop of wondrous churches, springing from the sea! Going down +upon the margin of the green sea, rolling on before the door, and filling +all the streets, I came upon a place of such surpassing beauty, and such +grandeur, that all the rest was poor and faded, in comparison with its +absorbing loveliness. + +It was a great Piazza, as I thought; anchored, like all the rest, in the +deep ocean. On its broad bosom, was a Palace, more majestic and +magnificent in its old age, than all the buildings of the earth, in the +high prime and fulness of their youth. Cloisters and galleries: so +light, they might have been the work of fairy hands: so strong that +centuries had battered them in vain: wound round and round this palace, +and enfolded it with a Cathedral, gorgeous in the wild luxuriant fancies +of the East. At no great distance from its porch, a lofty tower, +standing by itself, and rearing its proud head, alone, into the sky, +looked out upon the Adriatic Sea. Near to the margin of the stream, were +two ill-omened pillars of red granite; one having on its top, a figure +with a sword and shield; the other, a winged lion. Not far from these +again, a second tower: richest of the rich in all its decorations: even +here, where all was rich: sustained aloft, a great orb, gleaming with +gold and deepest blue: the Twelve Signs painted on it, and a mimic sun +revolving in its course around them: while above, two bronze giants +hammered out the hours upon a sounding bell. An oblong square of lofty +houses of the whitest stone, surrounded by a light and beautiful arcade, +formed part of this enchanted scene; and, here and there, gay masts for +flags rose, tapering, from the pavement of the unsubstantial ground. + +I thought I entered the Cathedral, and went in and out among its many +arches: traversing its whole extent. A grand and dreamy structure, of +immense proportions; golden with old mosaics; redolent of perfumes; dim +with the smoke of incense; costly in treasure of precious stones and +metals, glittering through iron bars; holy with the bodies of deceased +saints; rainbow-hued with windows of stained glass; dark with carved +woods and coloured marbles; obscure in its vast heights, and lengthened +distances; shining with silver lamps and winking lights; unreal, +fantastic, solemn, inconceivable throughout. I thought I entered the old +palace; pacing silent galleries and council-chambers, where the old +rulers of this mistress of the waters looked sternly out, in pictures, +from the walls, and where her high-prowed galleys, still victorious on +canvas, fought and conquered as of old. I thought I wandered through its +halls of state and triumph—bare and empty now!—and musing on its pride +and might, extinct: for that was past; all past: heard a voice say, ‘Some +tokens of its ancient rule and some consoling reasons for its downfall, +may be traced here, yet!’ + +I dreamed that I was led on, then, into some jealous rooms, communicating +with a prison near the palace; separated from it by a lofty bridge +crossing a narrow street; and called, I dreamed, The Bridge of Sighs. + +But first I passed two jagged slits in a stone wall; the lions’ +mouths—now toothless—where, in the distempered horror of my sleep, I +thought denunciations of innocent men to the old wicked Council, had been +dropped through, many a time, when the night was dark. So, when I saw +the council-room to which such prisoners were taken for examination, and +the door by which they passed out, when they were condemned—a door that +never closed upon a man with life and hope before him—my heart appeared +to die within me. + +It was smitten harder though, when, torch in hand, I descended from the +cheerful day into two ranges, one below another, of dismal, awful, +horrible stone cells. They were quite dark. Each had a loop-hole in its +massive wall, where, in the old time, every day, a torch was placed—I +dreamed—to light the prisoner within, for half an hour. The captives, by +the glimmering of these brief rays, had scratched and cut inscriptions in +the blackened vaults. I saw them. For their labour with a rusty nail’s +point, had outlived their agony and them, through many generations. + +One cell, I saw, in which no man remained for more than four-and-twenty +hours; being marked for dead before he entered it. Hard by, another, and +a dismal one, whereto, at midnight, the confessor came—a monk +brown-robed, and hooded—ghastly in the day, and free bright air, but in +the midnight of that murky prison, Hope’s extinguisher, and Murder’s +herald. I had my foot upon the spot, where, at the same dread hour, the +shriven prisoner was strangled; and struck my hand upon the guilty +door—low-browed and stealthy—through which the lumpish sack was carried +out into a boat, and rowed away, and drowned where it was death to cast a +net. + +Around this dungeon stronghold, and above some part of it: licking the +rough walls without, and smearing them with damp and slime within: +stuffing dank weeds and refuse into chinks and crevices, as if the very +stones and bars had mouths to stop: furnishing a smooth road for the +removal of the bodies of the secret victims of the State—a road so ready +that it went along with them, and ran before them, like a cruel +officer—flowed the same water that filled this Dream of mine, and made it +seem one, even at the time. + +Descending from the palace by a staircase, called, I thought, the +Giant’s—I had some imaginary recollection of an old man abdicating, +coming, more slowly and more feebly, down it, when he heard the bell, +proclaiming his successor—I glided off, in one of the dark boats, until +we came to an old arsenal guarded by four marble lions. To make my Dream +more monstrous and unlikely, one of these had words and sentences upon +its body, inscribed there, at an unknown time, and in an unknown +language; so that their purport was a mystery to all men. + +There was little sound of hammers in this place for building ships, and +little work in progress; for the greatness of the city was no more, as I +have said. Indeed, it seemed a very wreck found drifting on the sea; a +strange flag hoisted in its honourable stations, and strangers standing +at its helm. A splendid barge in which its ancient chief had gone forth, +pompously, at certain periods, to wed the ocean, lay here, I thought, no +more; but, in its place, there was a tiny model, made from recollection +like the city’s greatness; and it told of what had been (so are the +strong and weak confounded in the dust) almost as eloquently as the +massive pillars, arches, roofs, reared to overshadow stately ships that +had no other shadow now, upon the water or the earth. + +An armoury was there yet. Plundered and despoiled; but an armoury. With +a fierce standard taken from the Turks, drooping in the dull air of its +cage. Rich suits of mail worn by great warriors were hoarded there; +crossbows and bolts; quivers full of arrows; spears; swords, daggers, +maces, shields, and heavy-headed axes. Plates of wrought steel and iron, +to make the gallant horse a monster cased in metal scales; and one +spring-weapon (easy to be carried in the breast) designed to do its +office noiselessly, and made for shooting men with poisoned darts. + +One press or case I saw, full of accursed instruments of torture horribly +contrived to cramp, and pinch, and grind and crush men’s bones, and tear +and twist them with the torment of a thousand deaths. Before it, were +two iron helmets, with breast-pieces: made to close up tight and smooth +upon the heads of living sufferers; and fastened on to each, was a small +knob or anvil, where the directing devil could repose his elbow at his +ease, and listen, near the walled-up ear, to the lamentations and +confessions of the wretch within. There was that grim resemblance in +them to the human shape—they were such moulds of sweating faces, pained +and cramped—that it was difficult to think them empty; and terrible +distortions lingering within them, seemed to follow me, when, taking to +my boat again, I rowed off to a kind of garden or public walk in the sea, +where there were grass and trees. But I forgot them when I stood upon +its farthest brink—I stood there, in my dream—and looked, along the +ripple, to the setting sun; before me, in the sky and on the deep, a +crimson flush; and behind me the whole city resolving into streaks of red +and purple, on the water. + +In the luxurious wonder of so rare a dream, I took but little heed of +time, and had but little understanding of its flight. But there were +days and nights in it; and when the sun was high, and when the rays of +lamps were crooked in the running water, I was still afloat, I thought: +plashing the slippery walls and houses with the cleavings of the tide, as +my black boat, borne upon it, skimmed along the streets. + +Sometimes, alighting at the doors of churches and vast palaces, I +wandered on, from room to room, from aisle to aisle, through labyrinths +of rich altars, ancient monuments; decayed apartments where the +furniture, half awful, half grotesque, was mouldering away. Pictures +were there, replete with such enduring beauty and expression: with such +passion, truth and power: that they seemed so many young and fresh +realities among a host of spectres. I thought these, often intermingled +with the old days of the city: with its beauties, tyrants, captains, +patriots, merchants, counters, priests: nay, with its very stones, and +bricks, and public places; all of which lived again, about me, on the +walls. Then, coming down some marble staircase where the water lapped +and oozed against the lower steps, I passed into my boat again, and went +on in my dream. + +Floating down narrow lanes, where carpenters, at work with plane and +chisel in their shops, tossed the light shaving straight upon the water, +where it lay like weed, or ebbed away before me in a tangled heap. Past +open doors, decayed and rotten from long steeping in the wet, through +which some scanty patch of vine shone green and bright, making unusual +shadows on the pavement with its trembling leaves. Past quays and +terraces, where women, gracefully veiled, were passing and repassing, and +where idlers were reclining in the sunshine, on flag-stones and on +flights of steps. Past bridges, where there were idlers too; loitering +and looking over. Below stone balconies, erected at a giddy height, +before the loftiest windows of the loftiest houses. Past plots of +garden, theatres, shrines, prodigious piles of +architecture—Gothic—Saracenic—fanciful with all the fancies of all times +and countries. Past buildings that were high, and low, and black, and +white, and straight, and crooked; mean and grand, crazy and strong. +Twining among a tangled lot of boats and barges, and shooting out at last +into a Grand Canal! There, in the errant fancy of my dream, I saw old +Shylock passing to and fro upon a bridge, all built upon with shops and +humming with the tongues of men; a form I seemed to know for Desdemona’s, +leaned down through a latticed blind to pluck a flower. And, in the +dream, I thought that Shakespeare’s spirit was abroad upon the water +somewhere: stealing through the city. + +At night, when two votive lamps burnt before an image of the Virgin, in a +gallery outside the great cathedral, near the roof, I fancied that the +great piazza of the Winged Lion was a blaze of cheerful light, and that +its whole arcade was thronged with people; while crowds were diverting +themselves in splendid coffee-houses opening from it—which were never +shut, I thought, but open all night long. When the bronze giants struck +the hour of midnight on the bell, I thought the life and animation of the +city were all centred here; and as I rowed away, abreast the silent +quays, I only saw them dotted, here and there, with sleeping boatmen +wrapped up in their cloaks, and lying at full length upon the stones. + +But close about the quays and churches, palaces and prisons sucking at +their walls, and welling up into the secret places of the town: crept the +water always. Noiseless and watchful: coiled round and round it, in its +many folds, like an old serpent: waiting for the time, I thought, when +people should look down into its depths for any stone of the old city +that had claimed to be its mistress. + +Thus it floated me away, until I awoke in the old market-place at Verona. +I have, many and many a time, thought since, of this strange Dream upon +the water: half-wondering if it lie there yet, and if its name be VENICE. + + + + +BY VERONA, MANTUA, AND MILAN, ACROSS THE PASS OF THE SIMPLON INTO +SWITZERLAND + + +I HAD been half afraid to go to Verona, lest it should at all put me out +of conceit with Romeo and Juliet. But, I was no sooner come into the old +market-place, than the misgiving vanished. It is so fanciful, quaint, +and picturesque a place, formed by such an extraordinary and rich variety +of fantastic buildings, that there could be nothing better at the core of +even this romantic town: scene of one of the most romantic and beautiful +of stories. + +It was natural enough, to go straight from the Market-place, to the House +of the Capulets, now degenerated into a most miserable little inn. Noisy +vetturíni and muddy market-carts were disputing possession of the yard, +which was ankle-deep in dirt, with a brood of splashed and bespattered +geese; and there was a grim-visaged dog, viciously panting in a doorway, +who would certainly have had Romeo by the leg, the moment he put it over +the wall, if he had existed and been at large in those times. The +orchard fell into other hands, and was parted off many years ago; but +there used to be one attached to the house—or at all events there may +have, been,—and the hat (Cappêllo) the ancient cognizance of the family, +may still be seen, carved in stone, over the gateway of the yard. The +geese, the market-carts, their drivers, and the dog, were somewhat in the +way of the story, it must be confessed; and it would have been pleasanter +to have found the house empty, and to have been able to walk through the +disused rooms. But the hat was unspeakably comfortable; and the place +where the garden used to be, hardly less so. Besides, the house is a +distrustful, jealous-looking house as one would desire to see, though of +a very moderate size. So I was quite satisfied with it, as the veritable +mansion of old Capulet, and was correspondingly grateful in my +acknowledgments to an extremely unsentimental middle-aged lady, the +Padrona of the Hotel, who was lounging on the threshold looking at the +geese; and who at least resembled the Capulets in the one particular of +being very great indeed in the ‘Family’ way. + +From Juliet’s home, to Juliet’s tomb, is a transition as natural to the +visitor, as to fair Juliet herself, or to the proudest Juliet that ever +has taught the torches to burn bright in any time. So, I went off, with +a guide, to an old, old garden, once belonging to an old, old convent, I +suppose; and being admitted, at a shattered gate, by a bright-eyed woman +who was washing clothes, went down some walks where fresh plants and +young flowers were prettily growing among fragments of old wall, and +ivy-coloured mounds; and was shown a little tank, or water-trough, which +the bright-eyed woman—drying her arms upon her ‘kerchief, called ‘La +tomba di Giulietta la sfortunáta.’ With the best disposition in the +world to believe, I could do no more than believe that the bright-eyed +woman believed; so I gave her that much credit, and her customary fee in +ready money. It was a pleasure, rather than a disappointment, that +Juliet’s resting-place was forgotten. However consolatory it may have +been to Yorick’s Ghost, to hear the feet upon the pavement overhead, and, +twenty times a day, the repetition of his name, it is better for Juliet +to lie out of the track of tourists, and to have no visitors but such as +come to graves in spring-rain, and sweet air, and sunshine. + +Pleasant Verona! With its beautiful old palaces, and charming country in +the distance, seen from terrace walks, and stately, balustraded +galleries. With its Roman gates, still spanning the fair street, and +casting, on the sunlight of to-day, the shade of fifteen hundred years +ago. With its marble-fitted churches, lofty towers, rich architecture, +and quaint old quiet thoroughfares, where shouts of Montagues and +Capulets once resounded, + + And made Verona’s ancient citizens + Cast by their grave, beseeming ornaments, + To wield old partizans. + +With its fast-rushing river, picturesque old bridge, great castle, waving +cypresses, and prospect so delightful, and so cheerful! Pleasant Verona! + +In the midst of it, in the Piazza di Brá—a spirit of old time among the +familiar realities of the passing hour—is the great Roman Amphitheatre. +So well preserved, and carefully maintained, that every row of seats is +there, unbroken. Over certain of the arches, the old Roman numerals may +yet be seen; and there are corridors, and staircases, and subterranean +passages for beasts, and winding ways, above ground and below, as when +the fierce thousands hurried in and out, intent upon the bloody shows of +the arena. Nestling in some of the shadows and hollow places of the +walls, now, are smiths with their forges, and a few small dealers of one +kind or other; and there are green weeds, and leaves, and grass, upon the +parapet. But little else is greatly changed. + +When I had traversed all about it, with great interest, and had gone up +to the topmost round of seats, and turning from the lovely panorama +closed in by the distant Alps, looked down into the building, it seemed +to lie before me like the inside of a prodigious hat of plaited straw, +with an enormously broad brim and a shallow crown; the plaits being +represented by the four-and-forty rows of seats. The comparison is a +homely and fantastic one, in sober remembrance and on paper, but it was +irresistibly suggested at the moment, nevertheless. + +An equestrian troop had been there, a short time before—the same troop, I +dare say, that appeared to the old lady in the church at Modena—and had +scooped out a little ring at one end of the area; where their +performances had taken place, and where the marks of their horses’ feet +were still fresh. I could not but picture to myself, a handful of +spectators gathered together on one or two of the old stone seats, and a +spangled Cavalier being gallant, or a Policinello funny, with the grim +walls looking on. Above all, I thought how strangely those Roman mutes +would gaze upon the favourite comic scene of the travelling English, +where a British nobleman (Lord John), with a very loose stomach: dressed +in a blue-tailed coat down to his heels, bright yellow breeches, and a +white hat: comes abroad, riding double on a rearing horse, with an +English lady (Lady Betsy) in a straw bonnet and green veil, and a red +spencer; and who always carries a gigantic reticule, and a put-up +parasol. + +I walked through and through the town all the rest of the day, and could +have walked there until now, I think. In one place, there was a very +pretty modern theatre, where they had just performed the opera (always +popular in Verona) of Romeo and Juliet. In another there was a +collection, under a colonnade, of Greek, Roman, and Etruscan remains, +presided over by an ancient man who might have been an Etruscan relic +himself; for he was not strong enough to open the iron gate, when he had +unlocked it, and had neither voice enough to be audible when he described +the curiosities, nor sight enough to see them: he was so very old. In +another place, there was a gallery of pictures: so abominably bad, that +it was quite delightful to see them mouldering away. But anywhere: in +the churches, among the palaces, in the streets, on the bridge, or down +beside the river: it was always pleasant Verona, and in my remembrance +always will be. + +I read Romeo and Juliet in my own room at the inn that night—of course, +no Englishman had ever read it there, before—and set out for Mantua next +day at sunrise, repeating to myself (in the _coupé_ of an omnibus, and +next to the conductor, who was reading the Mysteries of Paris), + + There is no world without Verona’s walls + But purgatory, torture, hell itself. + Hence-banished is banished from the world, + And world’s exile is death— + +which reminded me that Romeo was only banished five-and-twenty miles +after all, and rather disturbed my confidence in his energy and boldness. + +Was the way to Mantua as beautiful, in his time, I wonder! Did it wind +through pasture land as green, bright with the same glancing streams, and +dotted with fresh clumps of graceful trees! Those purple mountains lay +on the horizon, then, for certain; and the dresses of these peasant +girls, who wear a great, knobbed, silver pin like an English +‘life-preserver’ through their hair behind, can hardly be much changed. +The hopeful feeling of so bright a morning, and so exquisite a sunrise, +can have been no stranger, even to an exiled lover’s breast; and Mantua +itself must have broken on him in the prospect, with its towers, and +walls, and water, pretty much as on a commonplace and matrimonial +omnibus. He made the same sharp twists and turns, perhaps, over two +rumbling drawbridges; passed through the like long, covered, wooden +bridge; and leaving the marshy water behind, approached the rusty gate of +stagnant Mantua. + +If ever a man were suited to his place of residence, and his place of +residence to him, the lean Apothecary and Mantua came together in a +perfect fitness of things. It may have been more stirring then, perhaps. +If so, the Apothecary was a man in advance of his time, and knew what +Mantua would be, in eighteen hundred and forty-four. He fasted much, and +that assisted him in his foreknowledge. + +I put up at the Hotel of the Golden Lion, and was in my own room +arranging plans with the brave Courier, when there came a modest little +tap at the door, which opened on an outer gallery surrounding a +court-yard; and an intensely shabby little man looked in, to inquire if +the gentleman would have a Cicerone to show the town. His face was so +very wistful and anxious, in the half-opened doorway, and there was so +much poverty expressed in his faded suit and little pinched hat, and in +the thread-bare worsted glove with which he held it—not expressed the +less, because these were evidently his genteel clothes, hastily slipped +on—that I would as soon have trodden on him as dismissed him. I engaged +him on the instant, and he stepped in directly. + +While I finished the discussion in which I was engaged, he stood, beaming +by himself in a corner, making a feint of brushing my hat with his arm. +If his fee had been as many napoleons as it was francs, there could not +have shot over the twilight of his shabbiness such a gleam of sun, as +lighted up the whole man, now that he was hired. + +‘Well!’ said I, when I was ready, ‘shall we go out now?’ + +‘If the gentleman pleases. It is a beautiful day. A little fresh, but +charming; altogether charming. The gentleman will allow me to open the +door. This is the Inn Yard. The court-yard of the Golden Lion! The +gentleman will please to mind his footing on the stairs.’ + +We were now in the street. + +‘This is the street of the Golden Lion. This, the outside of the Golden +Lion. The interesting window up there, on the first Piano, where the +pane of glass is broken, is the window of the gentleman’s chamber!’ + +Having viewed all these remarkable objects, I inquired if there were much +to see in Mantua. + +‘Well! Truly, no. Not much! So, so,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders +apologetically. + +‘Many churches?’ + +‘No. Nearly all suppressed by the French.’ + +‘Monasteries or convents?’ + +‘No. The French again! Nearly all suppressed by Napoleon.’ + +‘Much business?’ + +‘Very little business.’ + +‘Many strangers?’ + +‘Ah Heaven!’ + +I thought he would have fainted. + +‘Then, when we have seen the two large churches yonder, what shall we do +next?’ said I. + +He looked up the street, and down the street, and rubbed his chin +timidly; and then said, glancing in my face as if a light had broken on +his mind, yet with a humble appeal to my forbearance that was perfectly +irresistible: + +‘We can take a little turn about the town, Signore!’ (Si può far ’un +píccolo gíro della citta). + +It was impossible to be anything but delighted with the proposal, so we +set off together in great good-humour. In the relief of his mind, he +opened his heart, and gave up as much of Mantua as a Cicerone could. + +‘One must eat,’ he said; ‘but, bah! it was a dull place, without doubt!’ + +He made as much as possible of the Basilica of Santa Andrea—a noble +church—and of an inclosed portion of the pavement, about which tapers +were burning, and a few people kneeling, and under which is said to be +preserved the Sangreal of the old Romances. This church disposed of, and +another after it (the cathedral of San Pietro), we went to the Museum, +which was shut up. ‘It was all the same,’ he said. ‘Bah! There was not +much inside!’ Then, we went to see the Piazza del Diavolo, built by the +Devil (for no particular purpose) in a single night; then, the Piazza +Virgiliana; then, the statue of Virgil—_our_ Poet, my little friend said, +plucking up a spirit, for the moment, and putting his hat a little on one +side. Then, we went to a dismal sort of farm-yard, by which a +picture-gallery was approached. The moment the gate of this retreat was +opened, some five hundred geese came waddling round us, stretching out +their necks, and clamouring in the most hideous manner, as if they were +ejaculating, ‘Oh! here’s somebody come to see the Pictures! Don’t go up! +Don’t go up!’ While we went up, they waited very quietly about the door +in a crowd, cackling to one another occasionally, in a subdued tone; but +the instant we appeared again, their necks came out like telescopes, and +setting up a great noise, which meant, I have no doubt, ‘What, you would +go, would you! What do you think of it! How do you like it!’ they +attended us to the outer gate, and cast us forth, derisively, into +Mantua. + +The geese who saved the Capitol, were, as compared to these, Pork to the +learned Pig. What a gallery it was! I would take their opinion on a +question of art, in preference to the discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds. + +Now that we were standing in the street, after being thus ignominiouly +escorted thither, my little friend was plainly reduced to the ‘píccolo +gíro,’ or little circuit of the town, he had formerly proposed. But my +suggestion that we should visit the Palazzo Tè (of which I had heard a +great deal, as a strange wild place) imparted new life to him, and away +we went. + +The secret of the length of Midas’s ears, would have been more +extensively known, if that servant of his, who whispered it to the reeds, +had lived in Mantua, where there are reeds and rushes enough to have +published it to all the world. The Palazzo Tè stands in a swamp, among +this sort of vegetation; and is, indeed, as singular a place as I ever +saw. + +Not for its dreariness, though it is very dreary. Not for its dampness, +though it is very damp. Nor for its desolate condition, though it is as +desolate and neglected as house can be. But chiefly for the +unaccountable nightmares with which its interior has been decorated +(among other subjects of more delicate execution), by Giulio Romano. +There is a leering Giant over a certain chimney-piece, and there are +dozens of Giants (Titans warring with Jove) on the walls of another room, +so inconceivably ugly and grotesque, that it is marvellous how any man +can have imagined such creatures. In the chamber in which they abound, +these monsters, with swollen faces and cracked cheeks, and every kind of +distortion of look and limb, are depicted as staggering under the weight +of falling buildings, and being overwhelmed in the ruins; upheaving +masses of rock, and burying themselves beneath; vainly striving to +sustain the pillars of heavy roofs that topple down upon their heads; +and, in a word, undergoing and doing every kind of mad and demoniacal +destruction. The figures are immensely large, and exaggerated to the +utmost pitch of uncouthness; the colouring is harsh and disagreeable; and +the whole effect more like (I should imagine) a violent rush of blood to +the head of the spectator, than any real picture set before him by the +hand of an artist. This apoplectic performance was shown by a +sickly-looking woman, whose appearance was referable, I dare say, to the +bad air of the marshes; but it was difficult to help feeling as if she +were too much haunted by the Giants, and they were frightening her to +death, all alone in that exhausted cistern of a Palace, among the reeds +and rushes, with the mists hovering about outside, and stalking round and +round it continually. + +Our walk through Mantua showed us, in almost every street, some +suppressed church: now used for a warehouse, now for nothing at all: all +as crazy and dismantled as they could be, short of tumbling down bodily. +The marshy town was so intensely dull and flat, that the dirt upon it +seemed not to have come there in the ordinary course, but to have settled +and mantled on its surface as on standing water. And yet there were some +business-dealings going on, and some profits realising; for there were +arcades full of Jews, where those extraordinary people were sitting +outside their shops, contemplating their stores of stuffs, and woollens, +and bright handkerchiefs, and trinkets: and looking, in all respects, as +wary and business-like, as their brethren in Houndsditch, London. + +Having selected a Vetturíno from among the neighbouring Christians, who +agreed to carry us to Milan in two days and a half, and to start, next +morning, as soon as the gates were opened, I returned to the Golden Lion, +and dined luxuriously in my own room, in a narrow passage between two +bedsteads: confronted by a smoky fire, and backed up by a chest of +drawers. At six o’clock next morning, we were jingling in the dark +through the wet cold mist that enshrouded the town; and, before noon, the +driver (a native of Mantua, and sixty years of age or thereabouts) began +_to ask the way_ to Milan. + +It lay through Bozzolo; formerly a little republic, and now one of the +most deserted and poverty-stricken of towns: where the landlord of the +miserable inn (God bless him! it was his weekly custom) was distributing +infinitesimal coins among a clamorous herd of women and children, whose +rags were fluttering in the wind and rain outside his door, where they +were gathered to receive his charity. It lay through mist, and mud, and +rain, and vines trained low upon the ground, all that day and the next; +the first sleeping-place being Cremona, memorable for its dark brick +churches, and immensely high tower, the Torrazzo—to say nothing of its +violins, of which it certainly produces none in these degenerate days; +and the second, Lodi. Then we went on, through more mud, mist, and rain, +and marshy ground: and through such a fog, as Englishmen, strong in the +faith of their own grievances, are apt to believe is nowhere to be found +but in their own country, until we entered the paved streets of Milan. + +The fog was so dense here, that the spire of the far-famed Cathedral +might as well have been at Bombay, for anything that could be seen of it +at that time. But as we halted to refresh, for a few days then, and +returned to Milan again next summer, I had ample opportunities of seeing +the glorious structure in all its majesty and beauty. + +All Christian homage to the saint who lies within it! There are many +good and true saints in the calendar, but San Carlo Borromeo has—if I may +quote Mrs. Primrose on such a subject—‘my warm heart.’ A charitable +doctor to the sick, a munificent friend to the poor, and this, not in any +spirit of blind bigotry, but as the bold opponent of enormous abuses in +the Romish church, I honour his memory. I honour it none the less, +because he was nearly slain by a priest, suborned, by priests, to murder +him at the altar: in acknowledgment of his endeavours to reform a false +and hypocritical brotherhood of monks. Heaven shield all imitators of +San Carlo Borromeo as it shielded him! A reforming Pope would need a +little shielding, even now. + +The subterranean chapel in which the body of San Carlo Borromeo is +preserved, presents as striking and as ghastly a contrast, perhaps, as +any place can show. The tapers which are lighted down there, flash and +gleam on alti-rilievi in gold and silver, delicately wrought by skilful +hands, and representing the principal events in the life of the saint. +Jewels, and precious metals, shine and sparkle on every side. A windlass +slowly removes the front of the altar; and, within it, in a gorgeous +shrine of gold and silver, is seen, through alabaster, the shrivelled +mummy of a man: the pontifical robes with which it is adorned, radiant +with diamonds, emeralds, rubies: every costly and magnificent gem. The +shrunken heap of poor earth in the midst of this great glitter, is more +pitiful than if it lay upon a dung-hill. There is not a ray of +imprisoned light in all the flash and fire of jewels, but seems to mock +the dusty holes where eyes were, once. Every thread of silk in the rich +vestments seems only a provision from the worms that spin, for the behoof +of worms that propagate in sepulchres. + +In the old refectory of the dilapidated Convent of Santa Maria delle +Grazie, is the work of art, perhaps, better known than any other in the +world: the Last Supper, by Leonardo da Vinci—with a door cut through it +by the intelligent Dominican friars, to facilitate their operations at +dinner-time. + +I am not mechanically acquainted with the art of painting, and have no +other means of judging of a picture than as I see it resembling and +refining upon nature, and presenting graceful combinations of forms and +colours. I am, therefore, no authority whatever, in reference to the +‘touch’ of this or that master; though I know very well (as anybody may, +who chooses to think about the matter) that few very great masters can +possibly have painted, in the compass of their lives, one-half of the +pictures that bear their names, and that are recognised by many aspirants +to a reputation for taste, as undoubted originals. But this, by the way. +Of the Last Supper, I would simply observe, that in its beautiful +composition and arrangement, there it is, at Milan, a wonderful picture; +and that, in its original colouring, or in its original expression of any +single face or feature, there it is not. Apart from the damage it has +sustained from damp, decay, or neglect, it has been (as Barry shows) so +retouched upon, and repainted, and that so clumsily, that many of the +heads are, now, positive deformities, with patches of paint and plaster +sticking upon them like wens, and utterly distorting the expression. +Where the original artist set that impress of his genius on a face, +which, almost in a line or touch, separated him from meaner painters and +made him what he was, succeeding bunglers, filling up, or painting across +seams and cracks, have been quite unable to imitate his hand; and putting +in some scowls, or frowns, or wrinkles, of their own, have blotched and +spoiled the work. This is so well established as an historical fact, +that I should not repeat it, at the risk of being tedious, but for having +observed an English gentleman before the picture, who was at great pains +to fall into what I may describe as mild convulsions, at certain minute +details of expression which are not left in it. Whereas, it would be +comfortable and rational for travellers and critics to arrive at a +general understanding that it cannot fail to have been a work of +extraordinary merit, once: when, with so few of its original beauties +remaining, the grandeur of the general design is yet sufficient to +sustain it, as a piece replete with interest and dignity. + +We achieved the other sights of Milan, in due course, and a fine city it +is, though not so unmistakably Italian as to possess the characteristic +qualities of many towns far less important in themselves. The Corso, +where the Milanese gentry ride up and down in carriages, and rather than +not do which, they would half starve themselves at home, is a most noble +public promenade, shaded by long avenues of trees. In the splendid +theatre of La Scala, there was a ballet of action performed after the +opera, under the title of Prometheus: in the beginning of which, some +hundred or two of men and women represented our mortal race before the +refinements of the arts and sciences, and loves and graces, came on earth +to soften them. I never saw anything more effective. Generally +speaking, the pantomimic action of the Italians is more remarkable for +its sudden and impetuous character than for its delicate expression, but, +in this case, the drooping monotony: the weary, miserable, listless, +moping life: the sordid passions and desires of human creatures, +destitute of those elevating influences to which we owe so much, and to +whose promoters we render so little: were expressed in a manner really +powerful and affecting. I should have thought it almost impossible to +present such an idea so strongly on the stage, without the aid of speech. + +Milan soon lay behind us, at five o’clock in the morning; and before the +golden statue on the summit of the cathedral spire was lost in the blue +sky, the Alps, stupendously confused in lofty peaks and ridges, clouds +and snow, were towering in our path. + +Still, we continued to advance toward them until nightfall; and, all day +long, the mountain tops presented strangely shifting shapes, as the road +displayed them in different points of view. The beautiful day was just +declining, when we came upon the Lago Maggiore, with its lovely islands. +For however fanciful and fantastic the Isola Bella may be, and is, it +still is beautiful. Anything springing out of that blue water, with that +scenery around it, must be. + +It was ten o’clock at night when we got to Domo d’Ossola, at the foot of +the Pass of the Simplon. But as the moon was shining brightly, and there +was not a cloud in the starlit sky, it was no time for going to bed, or +going anywhere but on. So, we got a little carriage, after some delay, +and began the ascent. + +It was late in November; and the snow lying four or five feet thick in +the beaten road on the summit (in other parts the new drift was already +deep), the air was piercing cold. But, the serenity of the night, and +the grandeur of the road, with its impenetrable shadows, and deep glooms, +and its sudden turns into the shining of the moon and its incessant roar +of falling water, rendered the journey more and more sublime at every +step. + +Soon leaving the calm Italian villages below us, sleeping in the +moonlight, the road began to wind among dark trees, and after a time +emerged upon a barer region, very steep and toilsome, where the moon +shone bright and high. By degrees, the roar of water grew louder; and +the stupendous track, after crossing the torrent by a bridge, struck in +between two massive perpendicular walls of rock that quite shut out the +moonlight, and only left a few stars shining in the narrow strip of sky +above. Then, even this was lost, in the thick darkness of a cavern in +the rock, through which the way was pierced; the terrible cataract +thundering and roaring close below it, and its foam and spray hanging, in +a mist, about the entrance. Emerging from this cave, and coming again +into the moonlight, and across a dizzy bridge, it crept and twisted +upward, through the Gorge of Gondo, savage and grand beyond description, +with smooth-fronted precipices, rising up on either hand, and almost +meeting overhead. Thus we went, climbing on our rugged way, higher and +higher all night, without a moment’s weariness: lost in the contemplation +of the black rocks, the tremendous heights and depths, the fields of +smooth snow lying, in the clefts and hollows, and the fierce torrents +thundering headlong down the deep abyss. + +Towards daybreak, we came among the snow, where a keen wind was blowing +fiercely. Having, with some trouble, awakened the inmates of a wooden +house in this solitude: round which the wind was howling dismally, +catching up the snow in wreaths and hurling it away: we got some +breakfast in a room built of rough timbers, but well warmed by a stove, +and well contrived (as it had need to be) for keeping out the bitter +storms. A sledge being then made ready, and four horses harnessed to it, +we went, ploughing, through the snow. Still upward, but now in the cold +light of morning, and with the great white desert on which we travelled, +plain and clear. + +We were well upon the summit of the mountain: and had before us the rude +cross of wood, denoting its greatest altitude above the sea: when the +light of the rising sun, struck, all at once, upon the waste of snow, and +turned it a deep red. The lonely grandeur of the scene was then at its +height. + + [Picture: The Chiffonier] + +As we went sledging on, there came out of the Hospice founded by +Napoleon, a group of Peasant travellers, with staves and knapsacks, who +had rested there last night: attended by a Monk or two, their hospitable +entertainers, trudging slowly forward with them, for company’s sake. It +was pleasant to give them good morning, and pretty, looking back a long +way after them, to see them looking back at us, and hesitating presently, +when one of our horses stumbled and fell, whether or no they should +return and help us. But he was soon up again, with the assistance of a +rough waggoner whose team had stuck fast there too; and when we had +helped him out of his difficulty, in return, we left him slowly ploughing +towards them, and went slowly and swiftly forward, on the brink of a +steep precipice, among the mountain pines. + +Taking to our wheels again, soon afterwards, we began rapidly to descend; +passing under everlasting glaciers, by means of arched galleries, hung +with clusters of dripping icicles; under and over foaming waterfalls; +near places of refuge, and galleries of shelter against sudden danger; +through caverns over whose arched roofs the avalanches slide, in spring, +and bury themselves in the unknown gulf beneath. Down, over lofty +bridges, and through horrible ravines: a little shifting speck in the +vast desolation of ice and snow, and monstrous granite rocks; down +through the deep Gorge of the Saltine, and deafened by the torrent +plunging madly down, among the riven blocks of rock, into the level +country, far below. Gradually down, by zig-zag roads, lying between an +upward and a downward precipice, into warmer weather, calmer air, and +softer scenery, until there lay before us, glittering like gold or silver +in the thaw and sunshine, the metal-covered, red, green, yellow, domes +and church-spires of a Swiss town. + +The business of these recollections being with Italy, and my business, +consequently, being to scamper back thither as fast as possible, I will +not recall (though I am sorely tempted) how the Swiss villages, clustered +at the feet of Giant mountains, looked like playthings; or how confusedly +the houses were heaped and piled together; or how there were very narrow +streets to shut the howling winds out in the winter-time; and broken +bridges, which the impetuous torrents, suddenly released in spring, had +swept away. Or how there were peasant women here, with great round fur +caps: looking, when they peeped out of casements and only their heads +were seen, like a population of Sword-bearers to the Lord Mayor of +London; or how the town of Vevey, lying on the smooth lake of Geneva, was +beautiful to see; or how the statue of Saint Peter in the street at +Fribourg, grasps the largest key that ever was beheld; or how Fribourg is +illustrious for its two suspension bridges, and its grand cathedral +organ. + +Or how, between that town and Bâle, the road meandered among thriving +villages of wooden cottages, with overhanging thatched roofs, and low +protruding windows, glazed with small round panes of glass like +crown-pieces; or how, in every little Swiss homestead, with its cart or +waggon carefully stowed away beside the house, its little garden, stock +of poultry, and groups of red-cheeked children, there was an air of +comfort, very new and very pleasant after Italy; or how the dresses of +the women changed again, and there were no more sword-bearers to be seen; +and fair white stomachers, and great black, fan-shaped, gauzy-looking +caps, prevailed instead. + +Or how the country by the Jura mountains, sprinkled with snow, and +lighted by the moon, and musical with falling water, was delightful; or +how, below the windows of the great hotel of the Three Kings at Bâle, the +swollen Rhine ran fast and green; or how, at Strasbourg, it was quite as +fast but not as green: and was said to be foggy lower down: and, at that +late time of the year, was a far less certain means of progress, than the +highway road to Paris. + +Or how Strasbourg itself, in its magnificent old Gothic Cathedral, and +its ancient houses with their peaked roofs and gables, made a little +gallery of quaint and interesting views; or how a crowd was gathered +inside the cathedral at noon, to see the famous mechanical clock in +motion, striking twelve. How, when it struck twelve, a whole army of +puppets went through many ingenious evolutions; and, among them, a huge +puppet-cock, perched on the top, crowed twelve times, loud and clear. Or +how it was wonderful to see this cock at great pains to clap its wings, +and strain its throat; but obviously having no connection whatever with +its own voice; which was deep within the clock, a long way down. + +Or how the road to Paris, was one sea of mud, and thence to the coast, a +little better for a hard frost. Or how the cliffs of Dover were a +pleasant sight, and England was so wonderfully neat—though dark, and +lacking colour on a winter’s day, it must be conceded. + +Or how, a few days afterwards, it was cool, re-crossing the channel, with +ice upon the decks, and snow lying pretty deep in France. Or how the +Malle Poste scrambled through the snow, headlong, drawn in the hilly +parts by any number of stout horses at a canter; or how there were, +outside the Post-office Yard in Paris, before daybreak, extraordinary +adventurers in heaps of rags, groping in the snowy streets with little +rakes, in search of odds and ends. + +Or how, between Paris and Marseilles, the snow being then exceeding deep, +a thaw came on, and the mail waded rather than rolled for the next three +hundred miles or so; breaking springs on Sunday nights, and putting out +its two passengers to warm and refresh themselves pending the repairs, in +miserable billiard-rooms, where hairy company, collected about stoves, +were playing cards; the cards being very like themselves—extremely limp +and dirty. + +Or how there was detention at Marseilles from stress of weather; and +steamers were advertised to go, which did not go; or how the good +Steam-packet Charlemagne at length put out, and met such weather that now +she threatened to run into Toulon, and now into Nice, but, the wind +moderating, did neither, but ran on into Genoa harbour instead, where the +familiar Bells rang sweetly in my ear. Or how there was a travelling +party on board, of whom one member was very ill in the cabin next to +mine, and being ill was cross, and therefore declined to give up the +Dictionary, which he kept under his pillow; thereby obliging his +companions to come down to him, constantly, to ask what was the Italian +for a lump of sugar—a glass of brandy and water—what’s o’clock? and so +forth: which he always insisted on looking out, with his own sea-sick +eyes, declining to entrust the book to any man alive. + +Like GRUMIO, I might have told you, in detail, all this and something +more—but to as little purpose—were I not deterred by the remembrance that +my business is with Italy. Therefore, like GRUMIO’S story, ‘it shall die +in oblivion.’ + + + + +TO ROME BY PISA AND SIENA + + +THERE is nothing in Italy, more beautiful to me, than the coast-road +between Genoa and Spezzia. On one side: sometimes far below, sometimes +nearly on a level with the road, and often skirted by broken rocks of +many shapes: there is the free blue sea, with here and there a +picturesque felucca gliding slowly on; on the other side are lofty hills, +ravines besprinkled with white cottages, patches of dark olive woods, +country churches with their light open towers, and country houses gaily +painted. On every bank and knoll by the wayside, the wild cactus and +aloe flourish in exuberant profusion; and the gardens of the bright +villages along the road, are seen, all blushing in the summer-time with +clusters of the Belladonna, and are fragrant in the autumn and winter +with golden oranges and lemons. + +Some of the villages are inhabited, almost exclusively, by fishermen; and +it is pleasant to see their great boats hauled up on the beach, making +little patches of shade, where they lie asleep, or where the women and +children sit romping and looking out to sea, while they mend their nets +upon the shore. There is one town, Camoglia, with its little harbour on +the sea, hundreds of feet below the road; where families of mariners +live, who, time out of mind, have owned coasting-vessels in that place, +and have traded to Spain and elsewhere. Seen from the road above, it is +like a tiny model on the margin of the dimpled water, shining in the sun. +Descended into, by the winding mule-tracks, it is a perfect miniature of +a primitive seafaring town; the saltest, roughest, most piratical little +place that ever was seen. Great rusty iron rings and mooring-chains, +capstans, and fragments of old masts and spars, choke up the way; hardy +rough-weather boats, and seamen’s clothing, flutter in the little harbour +or are drawn out on the sunny stones to dry; on the parapet of the rude +pier, a few amphibious-looking fellows lie asleep, with their legs +dangling over the wall, as though earth or water were all one to them, +and if they slipped in, they would float away, dozing comfortably among +the fishes; the church is bright with trophies of the sea, and votive +offerings, in commemoration of escape from storm and shipwreck. The +dwellings not immediately abutting on the harbour are approached by blind +low archways, and by crooked steps, as if in darkness and in difficulty +of access they should be like holds of ships, or inconvenient cabins +under water; and everywhere, there is a smell of fish, and sea-weed, and +old rope. + +The coast-road whence Camoglia is descried so far below, is famous, in +the warm season, especially in some parts near Genoa, for fire-flies. +Walking there on a dark night, I have seen it made one sparkling +firmament by these beautiful insects: so that the distant stars were pale +against the flash and glitter that spangled every olive wood and +hill-side, and pervaded the whole air. + +It was not in such a season, however, that we traversed this road on our +way to Rome. The middle of January was only just past, and it was very +gloomy and dark weather; very wet besides. In crossing the fine pass of +Bracco, we encountered such a storm of mist and rain, that we travelled +in a cloud the whole way. There might have been no Mediterranean in the +world, for anything that we saw of it there, except when a sudden gust of +wind, clearing the mist before it, for a moment, showed the agitated sea +at a great depth below, lashing the distant rocks, and spouting up its +foam furiously. The rain was incessant; every brook and torrent was +greatly swollen; and such a deafening leaping, and roaring, and +thundering of water, I never heard the like of in my life. + +Hence, when we came to Spezzia, we found that the Magra, an unbridged +river on the high-road to Pisa, was too high to be safely crossed in the +Ferry Boat, and were fain to wait until the afternoon of next day, when +it had, in some degree, subsided. Spezzia, however, is a good place to +tarry at; by reason, firstly, of its beautiful bay; secondly, of its +ghostly Inn; thirdly, of the head-dress of the women, who wear, on one +side of their head, a small doll’s straw hat, stuck on to the hair; which +is certainly the oddest and most roguish head-gear that ever was +invented. + +The Magra safely crossed in the Ferry Boat—the passage is not by any +means agreeable, when the current is swollen and strong—we arrived at +Carrara, within a few hours. In good time next morning, we got some +ponies, and went out to see the marble quarries. + +They are four or five great glens, running up into a range of lofty +hills, until they can run no longer, and are stopped by being abruptly +strangled by Nature. The quarries, ‘or caves,’ as they call them there, +are so many openings, high up in the hills, on either side of these +passes, where they blast and excavate for marble: which may turn out good +or bad: may make a man’s fortune very quickly, or ruin him by the great +expense of working what is worth nothing. Some of these caves were +opened by the ancient Romans, and remain as they left them to this hour. +Many others are being worked at this moment; others are to be begun +to-morrow, next week, next month; others are unbought, unthought of; and +marble enough for more ages than have passed since the place was resorted +to, lies hidden everywhere: patiently awaiting its time of discovery. + +As you toil and clamber up one of these steep gorges (having left your +pony soddening his girths in water, a mile or two lower down) you hear, +every now and then, echoing among the hills, in a low tone, more silent +than the previous silence, a melancholy warning bugle,—a signal to the +miners to withdraw. Then, there is a thundering, and echoing from hill +to hill, and perhaps a splashing up of great fragments of rock into the +air; and on you toil again until some other bugle sounds, in a new +direction, and you stop directly, lest you should come within the range +of the new explosion. + +There were numbers of men, working high up in these hills—on the +sides—clearing away, and sending down the broken masses of stone and +earth, to make way for the blocks of marble that had been discovered. As +these came rolling down from unseen hands into the narrow valley, I could +not help thinking of the deep glen (just the same sort of glen) where the +Roc left Sindbad the Sailor; and where the merchants from the heights +above, flung down great pieces of meat for the diamonds to stick to. +There were no eagles here, to darken the sun in their swoop, and pounce +upon them; but it was as wild and fierce as if there had been hundreds. + +But the road, the road down which the marble comes, however immense the +blocks! The genius of the country, and the spirit of its institutions, +pave that road: repair it, watch it, keep it going! Conceive a channel +of water running over a rocky bed, beset with great heaps of stone of all +shapes and sizes, winding down the middle of this valley; and _that_ +being the road—because it was the road five hundred years ago! Imagine +the clumsy carts of five hundred years ago, being used to this hour, and +drawn, as they used to be, five hundred years ago, by oxen, whose +ancestors were worn to death five hundred years ago, as their unhappy +descendants are now, in twelve months, by the suffering and agony of this +cruel work! Two pair, four pair, ten pair, twenty pair, to one block, +according to its size; down it must come, this way. In their struggling +from stone to stone, with their enormous loads behind them, they die +frequently upon the spot; and not they alone; for their passionate +drivers, sometimes tumbling down in their energy, are crushed to death +beneath the wheels. But it was good five hundred years ago, and it must +be good now: and a railroad down one of these steeps (the easiest thing +in the world) would be flat blasphemy. + +When we stood aside, to see one of these cars drawn by only a pair of +oxen (for it had but one small block of marble on it), coming down, I +hailed, in my heart, the man who sat upon the heavy yoke, to keep it on +the neck of the poor beasts—and who faced backwards: not before him—as +the very Devil of true despotism. He had a great rod in his hand, with +an iron point; and when they could plough and force their way through the +loose bed of the torrent no longer, and came to a stop, he poked it into +their bodies, beat it on their heads, screwed it round and round in their +nostrils, got them on a yard or two, in the madness of intense pain; +repeated all these persuasions, with increased intensity of purpose, when +they stopped again; got them on, once more; forced and goaded them to an +abrupter point of the descent; and when their writhing and smarting, and +the weight behind them, bore them plunging down the precipice in a cloud +of scattered water, whirled his rod above his head, and gave a great +whoop and hallo, as if he had achieved something, and had no idea that +they might shake him off, and blindly mash his brains upon the road, in +the noontide of his triumph. + +Standing in one of the many studii of Carrara, that afternoon—for it is a +great workshop, full of beautifully-finished copies in marble, of almost +every figure, group, and bust, we know—it seemed, at first, so strange to +me that those exquisite shapes, replete with grace, and thought, and +delicate repose, should grow out of all this toil, and sweat, and +torture! But I soon found a parallel to it, and an explanation of it, in +every virtue that springs up in miserable ground, and every good thing +that has its birth in sorrow and distress. And, looking out of the +sculptor’s great window, upon the marble mountains, all red and glowing +in the decline of day, but stern and solemn to the last, I thought, my +God! how many quarries of human hearts and souls, capable of far more +beautiful results, are left shut up and mouldering away: while +pleasure-travellers through life, avert their faces, as they pass, and +shudder at the gloom and ruggedness that conceal them! + +The then reigning Duke of Modena, to whom this territory in part +belonged, claimed the proud distinction of being the only sovereign in +Europe who had not recognised Louis-Philippe as King of the French! He +was not a wag, but quite in earnest. He was also much opposed to +railroads; and if certain lines in contemplation by other potentates, on +either side of him, had been executed, would have probably enjoyed the +satisfaction of having an omnibus plying to and fro across his not very +vast dominions, to forward travellers from one terminus to another. + +Carrara, shut in by great hills, is very picturesque and bold. Few +tourists stay there; and the people are nearly all connected, in one way +or other, with the working of marble. There are also villages among the +caves, where the workmen live. It contains a beautiful little Theatre, +newly built; and it is an interesting custom there, to form the chorus of +labourers in the marble quarries, who are self-taught and sing by ear. I +heard them in a comic opera, and in an act of ‘Norma;’ and they acquitted +themselves very well; unlike the common people of Italy generally, who +(with some exceptions among the Neapolitans) sing vilely out of tune, and +have very disagreeable singing voices. + +From the summit of a lofty hill beyond Carrara, the first view of the +fertile plain in which the town of Pisa lies—with Leghorn, a purple spot +in the flat distance—is enchanting. Nor is it only distance that lends +enchantment to the view; for the fruitful country, and rich woods of +olive-trees through which the road subsequently passes, render it +delightful. + +The moon was shining when we approached Pisa, and for a long time we +could see, behind the wall, the leaning Tower, all awry in the uncertain +light; the shadowy original of the old pictures in school-books, setting +forth ‘The Wonders of the World.’ Like most things connected in their +first associations with school-books and school-times, it was too small. +I felt it keenly. It was nothing like so high above the wall as I had +hoped. It was another of the many deceptions practised by Mr. Harris, +Bookseller, at the corner of St. Paul’s Churchyard, London. _His_ Tower +was a fiction, but this was a reality—and, by comparison, a short +reality. Still, it looked very well, and very strange, and was quite as +much out of the perpendicular as Harris had represented it to be. The +quiet air of Pisa too; the big guard-house at the gate, with only two +little soldiers in it; the streets with scarcely any show of people in +them; and the Arno, flowing quaintly through the centre of the town; were +excellent. So, I bore no malice in my heart against Mr. Harris +(remembering his good intentions), but forgave him before dinner, and +went out, full of confidence, to see the Tower next morning. + +I might have known better; but, somehow, I had expected to see it, +casting its long shadow on a public street where people came and went all +day. It was a surprise to me to find it in a grave retired place, apart +from the general resort, and carpeted with smooth green turf. But, the +group of buildings, clustered on and about this verdant carpet: +comprising the Tower, the Baptistery, the Cathedral, and the Church of +the Campo Santo: is perhaps the most remarkable and beautiful in the +whole world; and from being clustered there, together, away from the +ordinary transactions and details of the town, they have a singularly +venerable and impressive character. It is the architectural essence of a +rich old city, with all its common life and common habitations pressed +out, and filtered away. + +SIMOND compares the Tower to the usual pictorial representations in +children’s books of the Tower of Babel. It is a happy simile, and +conveys a better idea of the building than chapters of laboured +description. Nothing can exceed the grace and lightness of the +structure; nothing can be more remarkable than its general appearance. +In the course of the ascent to the top (which is by an easy staircase), +the inclination is not very apparent; but, at the summit, it becomes so, +and gives one the sensation of being in a ship that has heeled over, +through the action of an ebb-tide. The effect _upon the low side_, so to +speak—looking over from the gallery, and seeing the shaft recede to its +base—is very startling; and I saw a nervous traveller hold on to the +Tower involuntarily, after glancing down, as if he had some idea of +propping it up. The view within, from the ground—looking up, as through +a slanted tube—is also very curious. It certainly inclines as much as +the most sanguine tourist could desire. The natural impulse of +ninety-nine people out of a hundred, who were about to recline upon the +grass below it, to rest, and contemplate the adjacent buildings, would +probably be, not to take up their position under the leaning side; it is +so very much aslant. + +The manifold beauties of the Cathedral and Baptistery need no +recapitulation from me; though in this case, as in a hundred others, I +find it difficult to separate my own delight in recalling them, from your +weariness in having them recalled. There is a picture of St. Agnes, by +Andrea del Sarto, in the former, and there are a variety of rich columns +in the latter, that tempt me strongly. + +It is, I hope, no breach of my resolution not to be tempted into +elaborate descriptions, to remember the Campo Santo; where grass-grown +graves are dug in earth brought more than six hundred years ago, from the +Holy Land; and where there are, surrounding them, such cloisters, with +such playing lights and shadows falling through their delicate tracery on +the stone pavement, as surely the dullest memory could never forget. On +the walls of this solemn and lovely place, are ancient frescoes, very +much obliterated and decayed, but very curious. As usually happens in +almost any collection of paintings, of any sort, in Italy, where there +are many heads, there is, in one of them, a striking accidental likeness +of Napoleon. At one time, I used to please my fancy with the speculation +whether these old painters, at their work, had a foreboding knowledge of +the man who would one day arise to wreak such destruction upon art: whose +soldiers would make targets of great pictures, and stable their horses +among triumphs of architecture. But the same Corsican face is so +plentiful in some parts of Italy at this day, that a more commonplace +solution of the coincidence is unavoidable. + +If Pisa be the seventh wonder of the world in right of its Tower, it may +claim to be, at least, the second or third in right of its beggars. They +waylay the unhappy visitor at every turn, escort him to every door he +enters at, and lie in wait for him, with strong reinforcements, at every +door by which they know he must come out. The grating of the portal on +its hinges is the signal for a general shout, and the moment he appears, +he is hemmed in, and fallen on, by heaps of rags and personal +distortions. The beggars seem to embody all the trade and enterprise of +Pisa. Nothing else is stirring, but warm air. Going through the +streets, the fronts of the sleepy houses look like backs. They are all +so still and quiet, and unlike houses with people in them, that the +greater part of the city has the appearance of a city at daybreak, or +during a general siesta of the population. Or it is yet more like those +backgrounds of houses in common prints, or old engravings, where windows +and doors are squarely indicated, and one figure (a beggar of course) is +seen walking off by itself into illimitable perspective. + +Not so Leghorn (made illustrious by SMOLLETT’S grave), which is a +thriving, business-like, matter-of-fact place, where idleness is +shouldered out of the way by commerce. The regulations observed there, +in reference to trade and merchants, are very liberal and free; and the +town, of course, benefits by them. Leghorn had a bad name in connection +with stabbers, and with some justice it must be allowed; for, not many +years ago, there was an assassination club there, the members of which +bore no ill-will to anybody in particular, but stabbed people (quite +strangers to them) in the streets at night, for the pleasure and +excitement of the recreation. I think the president of this amiable +society was a shoemaker. He was taken, however, and the club was broken +up. It would, probably, have disappeared in the natural course of +events, before the railroad between Leghorn and Pisa, which is a good +one, and has already begun to astonish Italy with a precedent of +punctuality, order, plain dealing, and improvement—the most dangerous and +heretical astonisher of all. There must have been a slight sensation, as +of earthquake, surely, in the Vatican, when the first Italian railroad +was thrown open. + +Returning to Pisa, and hiring a good-tempered Vetturíno, and his four +horses, to take us on to Rome, we travelled through pleasant Tuscan +villages and cheerful scenery all day. The roadside crosses in this part +of Italy are numerous and curious. There is seldom a figure on the +cross, though there is sometimes a face, but they are remarkable for +being garnished with little models in wood, of every possible object that +can be connected with the Saviour’s death. The cock that crowed when +Peter had denied his Master thrice, is usually perched on the tip-top; +and an ornithological phenomenon he generally is. Under him, is the +inscription. Then, hung on to the cross-beam, are the spear, the reed +with the sponge of vinegar and water at the end, the coat without seam +for which the soldiers cast lots, the dice-box with which they threw for +it, the hammer that drove in the nails, the pincers that pulled them out, +the ladder which was set against the cross, the crown of thorns, the +instrument of flagellation, the lanthorn with which Mary went to the tomb +(I suppose), and the sword with which Peter smote the servant of the high +priest,—a perfect toy-shop of little objects, repeated at every four or +five miles, all along the highway. + +On the evening of the second day from Pisa, we reached the beautiful old +city of Siena. There was what they called a Carnival, in progress; but, +as its secret lay in a score or two of melancholy people walking up and +down the principal street in common toy-shop masks, and being more +melancholy, if possible, than the same sort of people in England, I say +no more of it. We went off, betimes next morning, to see the Cathedral, +which is wonderfully picturesque inside and out, especially the +latter—also the market-place, or great Piazza, which is a large square, +with a great broken-nosed fountain in it: some quaint Gothic houses: and +a high square brick tower; _outside_ the top of which—a curious feature +in such views in Italy—hangs an enormous bell. It is like a bit of +Venice, without the water. There are some curious old Palazzi in the +town, which is very ancient; and without having (for me) the interest of +Verona, or Genoa, it is very dreamy and fantastic, and most interesting. + +We went on again, as soon as we had seen these things, and going over a +rather bleak country (there had been nothing but vines until now: mere +walking-sticks at that season of the year), stopped, as usual, between +one and two hours in the middle of the day, to rest the horses; that +being a part of every Vetturíno contract. We then went on again, through +a region gradually becoming bleaker and wilder, until it became as bare +and desolate as any Scottish moors. Soon after dark, we halted for the +night, at the osteria of La Scala: a perfectly lone house, where the +family were sitting round a great fire in the kitchen, raised on a stone +platform three or four feet high, and big enough for the roasting of an +ox. On the upper, and only other floor of this hotel, there was a great, +wild, rambling sála, with one very little window in a by-corner, and four +black doors opening into four black bedrooms in various directions. To +say nothing of another large black door, opening into another large black +sála, with the staircase coming abruptly through a kind of trap-door in +the floor, and the rafters of the roof looming above: a suspicious little +press skulking in one obscure corner: and all the knives in the house +lying about in various directions. The fireplace was of the purest +Italian architecture, so that it was perfectly impossible to see it for +the smoke. The waitress was like a dramatic brigand’s wife, and wore the +same style of dress upon her head. The dogs barked like mad; the echoes +returned the compliments bestowed upon them; there was not another house +within twelve miles; and things had a dreary, and rather a cut-throat, +appearance. + +They were not improved by rumours of robbers having come out, strong and +boldly, within a few nights; and of their having stopped the mail very +near that place. They were known to have waylaid some travellers not +long before, on Mount Vesuvius itself, and were the talk at all the +roadside inns. As they were no business of ours, however (for we had +very little with us to lose), we made ourselves merry on the subject, and +were very soon as comfortable as need be. We had the usual dinner in +this solitary house; and a very good dinner it is, when you are used to +it. There is something with a vegetable or some rice in it which is a +sort of shorthand or arbitrary character for soup, and which tastes very +well, when you have flavoured it with plenty of grated cheese, lots of +salt, and abundance of pepper. There is the half fowl of which this soup +has been made. There is a stewed pigeon, with the gizzards and livers of +himself and other birds stuck all round him. There is a bit of roast +beef, the size of a small French roll. There are a scrap of Parmesan +cheese, and five little withered apples, all huddled together on a small +plate, and crowding one upon the other, as if each were trying to save +itself from the chance of being eaten. Then there is coffee; and then +there is bed. You don’t mind brick floors; you don’t mind yawning doors, +nor banging windows; you don’t mind your own horses being stabled under +the bed: and so close, that every time a horse coughs or sneezes, he +wakes you. If you are good-humoured to the people about you, and speak +pleasantly, and look cheerful, take my word for it you may be well +entertained in the very worst Italian Inn, and always in the most +obliging manner, and may go from one end of the country to the other +(despite all stories to the contrary) without any great trial of your +patience anywhere. Especially, when you get such wine in flasks, as the +Orvieto, and the Monte Pulciano. + +It was a bad morning when we left this place; and we went, for twelve +miles, over a country as barren, as stony, and as wild, as Cornwall in +England, until we came to Radicofani, where there is a ghostly, goblin +inn: once a hunting-seat, belonging to the Dukes of Tuscany. It is full +of such rambling corridors, and gaunt rooms, that all the murdering and +phantom tales that ever were written might have originated in that one +house. There are some horrible old Palazzi in Genoa: one in particular, +not unlike it, outside: but there is a winding, creaking, wormy, +rustling, door-opening, foot-on-staircase-falling character about this +Radicofani Hotel, such as I never saw, anywhere else. The town, such as +it is, hangs on a hill-side above the house, and in front of it. The +inhabitants are all beggars; and as soon as they see a carriage coming, +they swoop down upon it, like so many birds of prey. + +When we got on the mountain pass, which lies beyond this place, the wind +(as they had forewarned us at the inn) was so terrific, that we were +obliged to take my other half out of the carriage, lest she should be +blown over, carriage and all, and to hang to it, on the windy side (as +well as we could for laughing), to prevent its going, Heaven knows where. +For mere force of wind, this land-storm might have competed with an +Atlantic gale, and had a reasonable chance of coming off victorious. The +blast came sweeping down great gullies in a range of mountains on the +right: so that we looked with positive awe at a great morass on the left, +and saw that there was not a bush or twig to hold by. It seemed as if, +once blown from our feet, we must be swept out to sea, or away into +space. There was snow, and hail, and rain, and lightning, and thunder; +and there were rolling mists, travelling with incredible velocity. It +was dark, awful, and solitary to the last degree; there were mountains +above mountains, veiled in angry clouds; and there was such a wrathful, +rapid, violent, tumultuous hurry, everywhere, as rendered the scene +unspeakably exciting and grand. + +It was a relief to get out of it, notwithstanding; and to cross even the +dismal, dirty Papal Frontier. After passing through two little towns; in +one of which, Acquapendente, there was also a ‘Carnival’ in progress: +consisting of one man dressed and masked as a woman, and one woman +dressed and masked as a man, walking ankle-deep, through the muddy +streets, in a very melancholy manner: we came, at dusk, within sight of +the Lake of Bolsena, on whose bank there is a little town of the same +name, much celebrated for malaria. With the exception of this poor +place, there is not a cottage on the banks of the lake, or near it (for +nobody dare sleep there); not a boat upon its waters; not a stick or +stake to break the dismal monotony of seven-and-twenty watery miles. We +were late in getting in, the roads being very bad from heavy rains; and, +after dark, the dulness of the scene was quite intolerable. + +We entered on a very different, and a finer scene of desolation, next +night, at sunset. We had passed through Montefiaschone (famous for its +wine) and Viterbo (for its fountains): and after climbing up a long hill +of eight or ten miles’ extent, came suddenly upon the margin of a +solitary lake: in one part very beautiful, with a luxuriant wood; in +another, very barren, and shut in by bleak volcanic hills. Where this +lake flows, there stood, of old, a city. It was swallowed up one day; +and in its stead, this water rose. There are ancient traditions (common +to many parts of the world) of the ruined city having been seen below, +when the water was clear; but however that may be, from this spot of +earth it vanished. The ground came bubbling up above it; and the water +too; and here they stand, like ghosts on whom the other world closed +suddenly, and who have no means of getting back again. They seem to be +waiting the course of ages, for the next earthquake in that place; when +they will plunge below the ground, at its first yawning, and be seen no +more. The unhappy city below, is not more lost and dreary, than these +fire-charred hills and the stagnant water, above. The red sun looked +strangely on them, as with the knowledge that they were made for caverns +and darkness; and the melancholy water oozed and sucked the mud, and +crept quietly among the marshy grass and reeds, as if the overthrow of +all the ancient towers and housetops, and the death of all the ancient +people born and bred there, were yet heavy on its conscience. + +A short ride from this lake, brought us to Ronciglione; a little town +like a large pig-sty, where we passed the night. Next morning at seven +o’clock, we started for Rome. + +As soon as we were out of the pig-sty, we entered on the Campagna Romana; +an undulating flat (as you know), where few people can live; and where, +for miles and miles, there is nothing to relieve the terrible monotony +and gloom. Of all kinds of country that could, by possibility, lie +outside the gates of Rome, this is the aptest and fittest burial-ground +for the Dead City. So sad, so quiet, so sullen; so secret in its +covering up of great masses of ruin, and hiding them; so like the waste +places into which the men possessed with devils used to go and howl, and +rend themselves, in the old days of Jerusalem. We had to traverse thirty +miles of this Campagna; and for two-and-twenty we went on and on, seeing +nothing but now and then a lonely house, or a villainous-looking +shepherd: with matted hair all over his face, and himself wrapped to the +chin in a frowsy brown mantle, tending his sheep. At the end of that +distance, we stopped to refresh the horses, and to get some lunch, in a +common malaria-shaken, despondent little public-house, whose every inch +of wall and beam, inside, was (according to custom) painted and decorated +in a way so miserable that every room looked like the wrong side of +another room, and, with its wretched imitation of drapery, and lop-sided +little daubs of lyres, seemed to have been plundered from behind the +scenes of some travelling circus. + +When we were fairly going off again, we began, in a perfect fever, to +strain our eyes for Rome; and when, after another mile or two, the +Eternal City appeared, at length, in the distance; it looked like—I am +half afraid to write the word—like LONDON!!! There it lay, under a thick +cloud, with innumerable towers, and steeples, and roofs of houses, rising +up into the sky, and high above them all, one Dome. I swear, that keenly +as I felt the seeming absurdity of the comparison, it was so like London, +at that distance, that if you could have shown it me, in a glass, I +should have taken it for nothing else. + + + + +ROME + + +WE entered the Eternal City, at about four o’clock in the afternoon, on +the thirtieth of January, by the Porta del Popolo, and came +immediately—it was a dark, muddy day, and there had been heavy rain—on +the skirts of the Carnival. We did not, then, know that we were only +looking at the fag end of the masks, who were driving slowly round and +round the Piazza until they could find a promising opportunity for +falling into the stream of carriages, and getting, in good time, into the +thick of the festivity; and coming among them so abruptly, all +travel-stained and weary, was not coming very well prepared to enjoy the +scene. + +We had crossed the Tiber by the Ponte Molle two or three miles before. +It had looked as yellow as it ought to look, and hurrying on between its +worn-away and miry banks, had a promising aspect of desolation and ruin. +The masquerade dresses on the fringe of the Carnival, did great violence +to this promise. There were no great ruins, no solemn tokens of +antiquity, to be seen;—they all lie on the other side of the city. There +seemed to be long streets of commonplace shops and houses, such as are to +be found in any European town; there were busy people, equipages, +ordinary walkers to and fro; a multitude of chattering strangers. It was +no more _my_ Rome: the Rome of anybody’s fancy, man or boy; degraded and +fallen and lying asleep in the sun among a heap of ruins: than the Place +de la Concorde in Paris is. A cloudy sky, a dull cold rain, and muddy +streets, I was prepared for, but not for this: and I confess to having +gone to bed, that night, in a very indifferent humour, and with a very +considerably quenched enthusiasm. + +Immediately on going out next day, we hurried off to St. Peter’s. It +looked immense in the distance, but distinctly and decidedly small, by +comparison, on a near approach. The beauty of the Piazza, on which it +stands, with its clusters of exquisite columns, and its gushing +fountains—so fresh, so broad, and free, and beautiful—nothing can +exaggerate. The first burst of the interior, in all its expansive +majesty and glory: and, most of all, the looking up into the Dome: is a +sensation never to be forgotten. But, there were preparations for a +Festa; the pillars of stately marble were swathed in some impertinent +frippery of red and yellow; the altar, and entrance to the subterranean +chapel: which is before it: in the centre of the church: were like a +goldsmith’s shop, or one of the opening scenes in a very lavish +pantomime. And though I had as high a sense of the beauty of the +building (I hope) as it is possible to entertain, I felt no very strong +emotion. I have been infinitely more affected in many English cathedrals +when the organ has been playing, and in many English country churches +when the congregation have been singing. I had a much greater sense of +mystery and wonder, in the Cathedral of San Mark at Venice. + +When we came out of the church again (we stood nearly an hour staring up +into the dome: and would not have ‘gone over’ the Cathedral then, for any +money), we said to the coachman, ‘Go to the Coliseum.’ In a quarter of +an hour or so, he stopped at the gate, and we went in. + +It is no fiction, but plain, sober, honest Truth, to say: so suggestive +and distinct is it at this hour: that, for a moment—actually in passing +in—they who will, may have the whole great pile before them, as it used +to be, with thousands of eager faces staring down into the arena, and +such a whirl of strife, and blood, and dust going on there, as no +language can describe. Its solitude, its awful beauty, and its utter +desolation, strike upon the stranger the next moment, like a softened +sorrow; and never in his life, perhaps, will he be so moved and overcome +by any sight, not immediately connected with his own affections and +afflictions. + +To see it crumbling there, an inch a year; its walls and arches overgrown +with green; its corridors open to the day; the long grass growing in its +porches; young trees of yesterday, springing up on its ragged parapets, +and bearing fruit: chance produce of the seeds dropped there by the birds +who build their nests within its chinks and crannies; to see its Pit of +Fight filled up with earth, and the peaceful Cross planted in the centre; +to climb into its upper halls, and look down on ruin, ruin, ruin, all +about it; the triumphal arches of Constantine, Septimus Severus, and +Titus; the Roman Forum; the Palace of the Cæsars; the temples of the old +religion, fallen down and gone; is to see the ghost of old Rome, wicked, +wonderful old city, haunting the very ground on which its people trod. +It is the most impressive, the most stately, the most solemn, grand, +majestic, mournful sight, conceivable. Never, in its bloodiest prime, +can the sight of the gigantic Coliseum, full and running over with the +lustiest life, have moved one’s heart, as it must move all who look upon +it now, a ruin. GOD be thanked: a ruin! + +As it tops the other ruins: standing there, a mountain among graves: so +do its ancient influences outlive all other remnants of the old mythology +and old butchery of Rome, in the nature of the fierce and cruel Roman +people. The Italian face changes as the visitor approaches the city; its +beauty becomes devilish; and there is scarcely one countenance in a +hundred, among the common people in the streets, that would not be at +home and happy in a renovated Coliseum to-morrow. + +Here was Rome indeed at last; and such a Rome as no one can imagine in +its full and awful grandeur! We wandered out upon the Appian Way, and +then went on, through miles of ruined tombs and broken walls, with here +and there a desolate and uninhabited house: past the Circus of Romulus, +where the course of the chariots, the stations of the judges, +competitors, and spectators, are yet as plainly to be seen as in old +time: past the tomb of Cecilia Metella: past all inclosure, hedge, or +stake, wall or fence: away upon the open Campagna, where on that side of +Rome, nothing is to be beheld but Ruin. Except where the distant +Apennines bound the view upon the left, the whole wide prospect is one +field of ruin. Broken aqueducts, left in the most picturesque and +beautiful clusters of arches; broken temples; broken tombs. A desert of +decay, sombre and desolate beyond all expression; and with a history in +every stone that strews the ground. + + * * * * * + +On Sunday, the Pope assisted in the performance of High Mass at St. +Peter’s. The effect of the Cathedral on my mind, on that second visit, +was exactly what it was at first, and what it remains after many visits. +It is not religiously impressive or affecting. It is an immense edifice, +with no one point for the mind to rest upon; and it tires itself with +wandering round and round. The very purpose of the place, is not +expressed in anything you see there, unless you examine its details—and +all examination of details is incompatible with the place itself. It +might be a Pantheon, or a Senate House, or a great architectural trophy, +having no other object than an architectural triumph. There is a black +statue of St. Peter, to be sure, under a red canopy; which is larger than +life and which is constantly having its great toe kissed by good +Catholics. You cannot help seeing that: it is so very prominent and +popular. But it does not heighten the effect of the temple, as a work of +art; and it is not expressive—to me at least—of its high purpose. + +A large space behind the altar, was fitted up with boxes, shaped like +those at the Italian Opera in England, but in their decoration much more +gaudy. In the centre of the kind of theatre thus railed off, was a +canopied dais with the Pope’s chair upon it. The pavement was covered +with a carpet of the brightest green; and what with this green, and the +intolerable reds and crimsons, and gold borders of the hangings, the +whole concern looked like a stupendous Bonbon. On either side of the +altar, was a large box for lady strangers. These were filled with ladies +in black dresses and black veils. The gentlemen of the Pope’s guard, in +red coats, leather breeches, and jack-boots, guarded all this reserved +space, with drawn swords that were very flashy in every sense; and from +the altar all down the nave, a broad lane was kept clear by the Pope’s +Swiss guard, who wear a quaint striped surcoat, and striped tight legs, +and carry halberds like those which are usually shouldered by those +theatrical supernumeraries, who never _can_ get off the stage fast +enough, and who may be generally observed to linger in the enemy’s camp +after the open country, held by the opposite forces, has been split up +the middle by a convulsion of Nature. + +I got upon the border of the green carpet, in company with a great many +other gentlemen, attired in black (no other passport is necessary), and +stood there at my ease, during the performance of Mass. The singers were +in a crib of wirework (like a large meat-safe or bird-cage) in one +corner; and sang most atrociously. All about the green carpet, there was +a slowly moving crowd of people: talking to each other: staring at the +Pope through eye-glasses; defrauding one another, in moments of partial +curiosity, out of precarious seats on the bases of pillars: and grinning +hideously at the ladies. Dotted here and there, were little knots of +friars (Frances-cáni, or Cappuccíni, in their coarse brown dresses and +peaked hoods) making a strange contrast to the gaudy ecclesiastics of +higher degree, and having their humility gratified to the utmost, by +being shouldered about, and elbowed right and left, on all sides. Some +of these had muddy sandals and umbrellas, and stained garments: having +trudged in from the country. The faces of the greater part were as +coarse and heavy as their dress; their dogged, stupid, monotonous stare +at all the glory and splendour, having something in it, half miserable, +and half ridiculous. + +Upon the green carpet itself, and gathered round the altar, was a perfect +army of cardinals and priests, in red, gold, purple, violet, white, and +fine linen. Stragglers from these, went to and fro among the crowd, +conversing two and two, or giving and receiving introductions, and +exchanging salutations; other functionaries in black gowns, and other +functionaries in court-dresses, were similarly engaged. In the midst of +all these, and stealthy Jesuits creeping in and out, and the extreme +restlessness of the Youth of England, who were perpetually wandering +about, some few steady persons in black cassocks, who had knelt down with +their faces to the wall, and were poring over their missals, became, +unintentionally, a sort of humane man-traps, and with their own devout +legs, tripped up other people’s by the dozen. + +There was a great pile of candles lying down on the floor near me, which +a very old man in a rusty black gown with an open-work tippet, like a +summer ornament for a fireplace in tissue-paper, made himself very busy +in dispensing to all the ecclesiastics: one a-piece. They loitered about +with these for some time, under their arms like walking-sticks, or in +their hands like truncheons. At a certain period of the ceremony, +however, each carried his candle up to the Pope, laid it across his two +knees to be blessed, took it back again, and filed off. This was done in +a very attenuated procession, as you may suppose, and occupied a long +time. Not because it takes long to bless a candle through and through, +but because there were so many candles to be blessed. At last they were +all blessed: and then they were all lighted; and then the Pope was taken +up, chair and all, and carried round the church. + +I must say, that I never saw anything, out of November, so like the +popular English commemoration of the fifth of that month. A bundle of +matches and a lantern, would have made it perfect. Nor did the Pope, +himself, at all mar the resemblance, though he has a pleasant and +venerable face; for, as this part of the ceremony makes him giddy and +sick, he shuts his eyes when it is performed: and having his eyes shut +and a great mitre on his head, and his head itself wagging to and fro as +they shook him in carrying, he looked as if his mask were going to tumble +off. The two immense fans which are always borne, one on either side of +him, accompanied him, of course, on this occasion. As they carried him +along, he blessed the people with the mystic sign; and as he passed them, +they kneeled down. When he had made the round of the church, he was +brought back again, and if I am not mistaken, this performance was +repeated, in the whole, three times. There was, certainly nothing solemn +or effective in it; and certainly very much that was droll and tawdry. +But this remark applies to the whole ceremony, except the raising of the +Host, when every man in the guard dropped on one knee instantly, and +dashed his naked sword on the ground; which had a fine effect. + +The next time I saw the cathedral, was some two or three weeks +afterwards, when I climbed up into the ball; and then, the hangings being +taken down, and the carpet taken up, but all the framework left, the +remnants of these decorations looked like an exploded cracker. + + * * * * * + +The Friday and Saturday having been solemn Festa days, and Sunday being +always a _dies non_ in carnival proceedings, we had looked forward, with +some impatience and curiosity, to the beginning of the new week: Monday +and Tuesday being the two last and best days of the Carnival. + +On the Monday afternoon at one or two o’clock, there began to be a great +rattling of carriages into the court-yard of the hotel; a hurrying to and +fro of all the servants in it; and, now and then, a swift shooting across +some doorway or balcony, of a straggling stranger in a fancy dress: not +yet sufficiently well used to the same, to wear it with confidence, and +defy public opinion. All the carriages were open, and had the linings +carefully covered with white cotton or calico, to prevent their proper +decorations from being spoiled by the incessant pelting of sugar-plums; +and people were packing and cramming into every vehicle as it waited for +its occupants, enormous sacks and baskets full of these confétti, +together with such heaps of flowers, tied up in little nosegays, that +some carriages were not only brimful of flowers, but literally running +over: scattering, at every shake and jerk of the springs, some of their +abundance on the ground. Not to be behindhand in these essential +particulars, we caused two very respectable sacks of sugar-plums (each +about three feet high) and a large clothes-basket full of flowers to be +conveyed into our hired barouche, with all speed. And from our place of +observation, in one of the upper balconies of the hotel, we contemplated +these arrangements with the liveliest satisfaction. The carriages now +beginning to take up their company, and move away, we got into ours, and +drove off too, armed with little wire masks for our faces; the +sugar-plums, like Falstaff’s adulterated sack, having lime in their +composition. + +The Corso is a street a mile long; a street of shops, and palaces, and +private houses, sometimes opening into a broad piazza. There are +verandahs and balconies, of all shapes and sizes, to almost every +house—not on one story alone, but often to one room or another on every +story—put there in general with so little order or regularity, that if, +year after year, and season after season, it had rained balconies, hailed +balconies, snowed balconies, blown balconies, they could scarcely have +come into existence in a more disorderly manner. + +This is the great fountain-head and focus of the Carnival. But all the +streets in which the Carnival is held, being vigilantly kept by dragoons, +it is necessary for carriages, in the first instance, to pass, in line, +down another thoroughfare, and so come into the Corso at the end remote +from the Piázza del Popolo; which is one of its terminations. +Accordingly, we fell into the string of coaches, and, for some time, +jogged on quietly enough; now crawling on at a very slow walk; now +trotting half-a-dozen yards; now backing fifty; and now stopping +altogether: as the pressure in front obliged us. If any impetuous +carriage dashed out of the rank and clattered forward, with the wild idea +of getting on faster, it was suddenly met, or overtaken, by a trooper on +horseback, who, deaf as his own drawn sword to all remonstrances, +immediately escorted it back to the very end of the row, and made it a +dim speck in the remotest perspective. Occasionally, we interchanged a +volley of confétti with the carriage next in front, or the carriage next +behind; but as yet, this capturing of stray and errant coaches by the +military, was the chief amusement. + +Presently, we came into a narrow street, where, besides one line of +carriages going, there was another line of carriages returning. Here the +sugar-plums and the nosegays began to fly about, pretty smartly; and I +was fortunate enough to observe one gentleman attired as a Greek warrior, +catch a light-whiskered brigand on the nose (he was in the very act of +tossing up a bouquet to a young lady in a first-floor window) with a +precision that was much applauded by the bystanders. As this victorious +Greek was exchanging a facetious remark with a stout gentleman in a +doorway—one-half black and one-half white, as if he had been peeled up +the middle—who had offered him his congratulations on this achievement, +he received an orange from a housetop, full on his left ear, and was much +surprised, not to say discomfited. Especially, as he was standing up at +the time; and in consequence of the carriage moving on suddenly, at the +same moment, staggered ignominiously, and buried himself among his +flowers. + +Some quarter of an hour of this sort of progress, brought us to the +Corso; and anything so gay, so bright, and lively as the whole scene +there, it would be difficult to imagine. From all the innumerable +balconies: from the remotest and highest, no less than from the lowest +and nearest: hangings of bright red, bright green, bright blue, white and +gold, were fluttering in the brilliant sunlight. From windows, and from +parapets, and tops of houses, streamers of the richest colours, and +draperies of the gaudiest and most sparkling hues, were floating out upon +the street. The buildings seemed to have been literally turned inside +out, and to have all their gaiety towards the highway. Shop-fronts were +taken down, and the windows filled with company, like boxes at a shining +theatre; doors were carried off their hinges, and long tapestried groves, +hung with garlands of flowers and evergreens, displayed within; builders’ +scaffoldings were gorgeous temples, radiant in silver, gold, and crimson; +and in every nook and corner, from the pavement to the chimney-tops, +where women’s eyes could glisten, there they danced, and laughed, and +sparkled, like the light in water. Every sort of bewitching madness of +dress was there. Little preposterous scarlet jackets; quaint old +stomachers, more wicked than the smartest bodices; Polish pelisses, +strained and tight as ripe gooseberries; tiny Greek caps, all awry, and +clinging to the dark hair, Heaven knows how; every wild, quaint, bold, +shy, pettish, madcap fancy had its illustration in a dress; and every +fancy was as dead forgotten by its owner, in the tumult of merriment, as +if the three old aqueducts that still remain entire had brought Lethe +into Rome, upon their sturdy arches, that morning. + +The carriages were now three abreast; in broader places four; often +stationary for a long time together, always one close mass of variegated +brightness; showing, the whole street-full, through the storm of flowers, +like flowers of a larger growth themselves. In some, the horses were +richly caparisoned in magnificent trappings; in others they were decked +from head to tail, with flowing ribbons. Some were driven by coachmen +with enormous double faces: one face leering at the horses: the other +cocking its extraordinary eyes into the carriage: and both rattling +again, under the hail of sugar-plums. Other drivers were attired as +women, wearing long ringlets and no bonnets, and looking more ridiculous +in any real difficulty with the horses (of which, in such a concourse, +there were a great many) than tongue can tell, or pen describe. Instead +of sitting _in_ the carriages, upon the seats, the handsome Roman women, +to see and to be seen the better, sit in the heads of the barouches, at +this time of general licence, with their feet upon the cushions—and oh, +the flowing skirts and dainty waists, the blessed shapes and laughing +faces, the free, good-humoured, gallant figures that they make! There +were great vans, too, full of handsome girls—thirty, or more together, +perhaps—and the broadsides that were poured into, and poured out of, +these fairy fire-shops, splashed the air with flowers and bon-bons for +ten minutes at a time. Carriages, delayed long in one place, would begin +a deliberate engagement with other carriages, or with people at the lower +windows; and the spectators at some upper balcony or window, joining in +the fray, and attacking both parties, would empty down great bags of +confétti, that descended like a cloud, and in an instant made them white +as millers. Still, carriages on carriages, dresses on dresses, colours +on colours, crowds upon crowds, without end. Men and boys clinging to +the wheels of coaches, and holding on behind, and following in their +wake, and diving in among the horses’ feet to pick up scattered flowers +to sell again; maskers on foot (the drollest generally) in fantastic +exaggerations of court-dresses, surveying the throng through enormous +eye-glasses, and always transported with an ecstasy of love, on the +discovery of any particularly old lady at a window; long strings of +Policinelli, laying about them with blown bladders at the ends of sticks; +a waggon-full of madmen, screaming and tearing to the life; a coach-full +of grave mamelukes, with their horse-tail standard set up in the midst; a +party of gipsy-women engaged in terrific conflict with a shipful of +sailors; a man-monkey on a pole, surrounded by strange animals with pigs’ +faces, and lions’ tails, carried under their arms, or worn gracefully +over their shoulders; carriages on carriages, dresses on dresses, colours +on colours, crowds upon crowds, without end. Not many actual characters +sustained, or represented, perhaps, considering the number dressed, but +the main pleasure of the scene consisting in its perfect good temper; in +its bright, and infinite, and flashing variety; and in its entire +abandonment to the mad humour of the time—an abandonment so perfect, so +contagious, so irresistible, that the steadiest foreigner fights up to +his middle in flowers and sugar-plums, like the wildest Roman of them +all, and thinks of nothing else till half-past four o’clock, when he is +suddenly reminded (to his great regret) that this is not the whole +business of his existence, by hearing the trumpets sound, and seeing the +dragoons begin to clear the street. + +How it ever _is_ cleared for the race that takes place at five, or how +the horses ever go through the race, without going over the people, is +more than I can say. But the carriages get out into the by-streets, or +up into the Piázza del Popolo, and some people sit in temporary galleries +in the latter place, and tens of thousands line the Corso on both sides, +when the horses are brought out into the Piázza—to the foot of that same +column which, for centuries, looked down upon the games and chariot-races +in the Circus Maximus. + +At a given signal they are started off. Down the live lane, the whole +length of the Corso, they fly like the wind: riderless, as all the world +knows: with shining ornaments upon their backs, and twisted in their +plaited manes: and with heavy little balls stuck full of spikes, dangling +at their sides, to goad them on. The jingling of these trappings, and +the rattling of their hoofs upon the hard stones; the dash and fury of +their speed along the echoing street; nay, the very cannon that are +fired—these noises are nothing to the roaring of the multitude: their +shouts: the clapping of their hands. But it is soon over—almost +instantaneously. More cannon shake the town. The horses have plunged +into the carpets put across the street to stop them; the goal is reached; +the prizes are won (they are given, in part, by the poor Jews, as a +compromise for not running foot-races themselves); and there is an end to +that day’s sport. + +But if the scene be bright, and gay, and crowded, on the last day but +one, it attains, on the concluding day, to such a height of glittering +colour, swarming life, and frolicsome uproar, that the bare recollection +of it makes me giddy at this moment. The same diversions, greatly +heightened and intensified in the ardour with which they are pursued, go +on until the same hour. The race is repeated; the cannon are fired; the +shouting and clapping of hands are renewed; the cannon are fired again; +the race is over; and the prizes are won. But the carriages: ankle-deep +with sugar-plums within, and so be-flowered and dusty without, as to be +hardly recognisable for the same vehicles that they were, three hours +ago: instead of scampering off in all directions, throng into the Corso, +where they are soon wedged together in a scarcely moving mass. For the +diversion of the Moccoletti, the last gay madness of the Carnival, is now +at hand; and sellers of little tapers like what are called Christmas +candles in England, are shouting lustily on every side, ‘Moccoli, +Moccoli! Ecco Moccoli!’—a new item in the tumult; quite abolishing that +other item of ‘Ecco Fióri! Ecco Fior-r-r!’ which has been making itself +audible over all the rest, at intervals, the whole day through. + +As the bright hangings and dresses are all fading into one dull, heavy, +uniform colour in the decline of the day, lights begin flashing, here and +there: in the windows, on the housetops, in the balconies, in the +carriages, in the hands of the foot-passengers: little by little: +gradually, gradually: more and more: until the whole long street is one +great glare and blaze of fire. Then, everybody present has but one +engrossing object; that is, to extinguish other people’s candles, and to +keep his own alight; and everybody: man, woman, or child, gentleman or +lady, prince or peasant, native or foreigner: yells and screams, and +roars incessantly, as a taunt to the subdued, ‘Senza Moccolo, Senza +Moccolo!’ (Without a light! Without a light!) until nothing is heard +but a gigantic chorus of those two words, mingled with peals of laughter. + +The spectacle, at this time, is one of the most extraordinary that can be +imagined. Carriages coming slowly by, with everybody standing on the +seats or on the box, holding up their lights at arms’ length, for greater +safety; some in paper shades; some with a bunch of undefended little +tapers, kindled altogether; some with blazing torches; some with feeble +little candles; men on foot, creeping along, among the wheels, watching +their opportunity, to make a spring at some particular light, and dash it +out; other people climbing up into carriages, to get hold of them by main +force; others, chasing some unlucky wanderer, round and round his own +coach, to blow out the light he has begged or stolen somewhere, before he +can ascend to his own company, and enable them to light their +extinguished tapers; others, with their hats off, at a carriage-door, +humbly beseeching some kind-hearted lady to oblige them with a light for +a cigar, and when she is in the fulness of doubt whether to comply or no, +blowing out the candle she is guarding so tenderly with her little hand; +other people at the windows, fishing for candles with lines and hooks, or +letting down long willow-wands with handkerchiefs at the end, and +flapping them out, dexterously, when the bearer is at the height of his +triumph, others, biding their time in corners, with immense extinguishers +like halberds, and suddenly coming down upon glorious torches; others, +gathered round one coach, and sticking to it; others, raining oranges and +nosegays at an obdurate little lantern, or regularly storming a pyramid +of men, holding up one man among them, who carries one feeble little wick +above his head, with which he defies them all! Senza Moccolo! Senza +Moccolo! Beautiful women, standing up in coaches, pointing in derision +at extinguished lights, and clapping their hands, as they pass on, +crying, ‘Senza Moccolo! Senza Moccolo!’; low balconies full of lovely +faces and gay dresses, struggling with assailants in the streets; some +repressing them as they climb up, some bending down, some leaning over, +some shrinking back—delicate arms and bosoms—graceful figures—glowing +lights, fluttering dresses, Senza Moccolo, Senza Moccoli, Senza +Moc-co-lo-o-o-o!—when in the wildest enthusiasm of the cry, and fullest +ecstasy of the sport, the Ave Maria rings from the church steeples, and +the Carnival is over in an instant—put out like a taper, with a breath! + +There was a masquerade at the theatre at night, as dull and senseless as +a London one, and only remarkable for the summary way in which the house +was cleared at eleven o’clock: which was done by a line of soldiers +forming along the wall, at the back of the stage, and sweeping the whole +company out before them, like a broad broom. The game of the Moccoletti +(the word, in the singular, Moccoletto, is the diminutive of Moccolo, and +means a little lamp or candlesnuff) is supposed by some to be a ceremony +of burlesque mourning for the death of the Carnival: candles being +indispensable to Catholic grief. But whether it be so, or be a remnant +of the ancient Saturnalia, or an incorporation of both, or have its +origin in anything else, I shall always remember it, and the frolic, as a +brilliant and most captivating sight: no less remarkable for the unbroken +good-humour of all concerned, down to the very lowest (and among those +who scaled the carriages, were many of the commonest men and boys), than +for its innocent vivacity. For, odd as it may seem to say so, of a sport +so full of thoughtlessness and personal display, it is as free from any +taint of immodesty as any general mingling of the two sexes can possibly +be; and there seems to prevail, during its progress, a feeling of +general, almost childish, simplicity and confidence, which one thinks of +with a pang, when the Ave Maria has rung it away, for a whole year. + + * * * * * + +Availing ourselves of a part of the quiet interval between the +termination of the Carnival and the beginning of the Holy Week: when +everybody had run away from the one, and few people had yet begun to run +back again for the other: we went conscientiously to work, to see Rome. +And, by dint of going out early every morning, and coming back late every +evening, and labouring hard all day, I believe we made acquaintance with +every post and pillar in the city, and the country round; and, in +particular, explored so many churches, that I abandoned that part of the +enterprise at last, before it was half finished, lest I should never, of +my own accord, go to church again, as long as I lived. But, I managed, +almost every day, at one time or other, to get back to the Coliseum, and +out upon the open Campagna, beyond the Tomb of Cecilia Metella. + +We often encountered, in these expeditions, a company of English +Tourists, with whom I had an ardent, but ungratified longing, to +establish a speaking acquaintance. They were one Mr. Davis, and a small +circle of friends. It was impossible not to know Mrs. Davis’s name, from +her being always in great request among her party, and her party being +everywhere. During the Holy Week, they were in every part of every scene +of every ceremony. For a fortnight or three weeks before it, they were +in every tomb, and every church, and every ruin, and every Picture +Gallery; and I hardly ever observed Mrs. Davis to be silent for a moment. +Deep underground, high up in St. Peter’s, out on the Campagna, and +stifling in the Jews’ quarter, Mrs. Davis turned up, all the same. I +don’t think she ever saw anything, or ever looked at anything; and she +had always lost something out of a straw hand-basket, and was trying to +find it, with all her might and main, among an immense quantity of +English halfpence, which lay, like sands upon the sea-shore, at the +bottom of it. There was a professional Cicerone always attached to the +party (which had been brought over from London, fifteen or twenty strong, +by contract), and if he so much as looked at Mrs. Davis, she invariably +cut him short by saying, ‘There, God bless the man, don’t worrit me! I +don’t understand a word you say, and shouldn’t if you was to talk till +you was black in the face!’ Mr. Davis always had a snuff-coloured +great-coat on, and carried a great green umbrella in his hand, and had a +slow curiosity constantly devouring him, which prompted him to do +extraordinary things, such as taking the covers off urns in tombs, and +looking in at the ashes as if they were pickles—and tracing out +inscriptions with the ferrule of his umbrella, and saying, with intense +thoughtfulness, ‘Here’s a B you see, and there’s a R, and this is the way +we goes on in; is it!’ His antiquarian habits occasioned his being +frequently in the rear of the rest; and one of the agonies of Mrs. Davis, +and the party in general, was an ever-present fear that Davis would be +lost. This caused them to scream for him, in the strangest places, and +at the most improper seasons. And when he came, slowly emerging out of +some sepulchre or other, like a peaceful Ghoule, saying ‘Here I am!’ Mrs. +Davis invariably replied, ‘You’ll be buried alive in a foreign country, +Davis, and it’s no use trying to prevent you!’ + +Mr. and Mrs. Davis, and their party, had, probably, been brought from +London in about nine or ten days. Eighteen hundred years ago, the Roman +legions under Claudius, protested against being led into Mr. and Mrs. +Davis’s country, urging that it lay beyond the limits of the world. + +Among what may be called the Cubs or minor Lions of Rome, there was one +that amused me mightily. It is always to be found there; and its den is +on the great flight of steps that lead from the Piazza di Spágna, to the +church of Trínita del Monte. In plainer words, these steps are the great +place of resort for the artists’ ‘Models,’ and there they are constantly +waiting to be hired. The first time I went up there, I could not +conceive why the faces seemed familiar to me; why they appeared to have +beset me, for years, in every possible variety of action and costume; and +how it came to pass that they started up before me, in Rome, in the broad +day, like so many saddled and bridled nightmares. I soon found that we +had made acquaintance, and improved it, for several years, on the walls +of various Exhibition Galleries. There is one old gentleman, with long +white hair and an immense beard, who, to my knowledge, has gone half +through the catalogue of the Royal Academy. This is the venerable, or +patriarchal model. He carries a long staff; and every knot and twist in +that staff I have seen, faithfully delineated, innumerable times. There +is another man in a blue cloak, who always pretends to be asleep in the +sun (when there is any), and who, I need not say, is always very wide +awake, and very attentive to the disposition of his legs. This is the +_dolce far’ niente_ model. There is another man in a brown cloak, who +leans against a wall, with his arms folded in his mantle, and looks out +of the corners of his eyes: which are just visible beneath his broad +slouched hat. This is the assassin model. There is another man, who +constantly looks over his own shoulder, and is always going away, but +never does. This is the haughty, or scornful model. As to Domestic +Happiness, and Holy Families, they should come very cheap, for there are +lumps of them, all up the steps; and the cream of the thing is, that they +are all the falsest vagabonds in the world, especially made up for the +purpose, and having no counterparts in Rome or any other part of the +habitable globe. + +My recent mention of the Carnival, reminds me of its being said to be a +mock mourning (in the ceremony with which it closes), for the gaieties +and merry-makings before Lent; and this again reminds me of the real +funerals and mourning processions of Rome, which, like those in most +other parts of Italy, are rendered chiefly remarkable to a Foreigner, by +the indifference with which the mere clay is universally regarded, after +life has left it. And this is not from the survivors having had time to +dissociate the memory of the dead from their well-remembered appearance +and form on earth; for the interment follows too speedily after death, +for that: almost always taking place within four-and-twenty hours, and, +sometimes, within twelve. + +At Rome, there is the same arrangement of Pits in a great, bleak, open, +dreary space, that I have already described as existing in Genoa. When I +visited it, at noonday, I saw a solitary coffin of plain deal: uncovered +by any shroud or pall, and so slightly made, that the hoof of any +wandering mule would have crushed it in: carelessly tumbled down, all on +one side, on the door of one of the pits—and there left, by itself, in +the wind and sunshine. ‘How does it come to be left here?’ I asked the +man who showed me the place. ‘It was brought here half an hour ago, +Signore,’ he said. I remembered to have met the procession, on its +return: straggling away at a good round pace. ‘When will it be put in +the pit?’ I asked him. ‘When the cart comes, and it is opened to-night,’ +he said. ‘How much does it cost to be brought here in this way, instead +of coming in the cart?’ I asked him. ‘Ten scudi,’ he said (about two +pounds, two-and-sixpence, English). ‘The other bodies, for whom nothing +is paid, are taken to the church of the Santa Maria della Consolázione,’ +he continued, ‘and brought here altogether, in the cart at night.’ I +stood, a moment, looking at the coffin, which had two initial letters +scrawled upon the top; and turned away, with an expression in my face, I +suppose, of not much liking its exposure in that manner: for he said, +shrugging his shoulders with great vivacity, and giving a pleasant smile, +‘But he’s dead, Signore, he’s dead. Why not?’ + + * * * * * + +Among the innumerable churches, there is one I must select for separate +mention. It is the church of the Ara Coeli, supposed to be built on the +site of the old Temple of Jupiter Feretrius; and approached, on one side, +by a long steep flight of steps, which seem incomplete without some group +of bearded soothsayers on the top. It is remarkable for the possession +of a miraculous Bambíno, or wooden doll, representing the Infant Saviour; +and I first saw this miraculous Bambíno, in legal phrase, in manner +following, that is to say: + +We had strolled into the church one afternoon, and were looking down its +long vista of gloomy pillars (for all these ancient churches built upon +the ruins of old temples, are dark and sad), when the Brave came running +in, with a grin upon his face that stretched it from ear to ear, and +implored us to follow him, without a moment’s delay, as they were going +to show the Bambíno to a select party. We accordingly hurried off to a +sort of chapel, or sacristy, hard by the chief altar, but not in the +church itself, where the select party, consisting of two or three +Catholic gentlemen and ladies (not Italians), were already assembled: and +where one hollow-cheeked young monk was lighting up divers candles, while +another was putting on some clerical robes over his coarse brown habit. +The candles were on a kind of altar, and above it were two delectable +figures, such as you would see at any English fair, representing the Holy +Virgin, and Saint Joseph, as I suppose, bending in devotion over a wooden +box, or coffer; which was shut. + +The hollow-cheeked monk, number One, having finished lighting the +candles, went down on his knees, in a corner, before this set-piece; and +the monk number Two, having put on a pair of highly ornamented and +gold-bespattered gloves, lifted down the coffer, with great reverence, +and set it on the altar. Then, with many genuflexions, and muttering +certain prayers, he opened it, and let down the front, and took off +sundry coverings of satin and lace from the inside. The ladies had been +on their knees from the commencement; and the gentlemen now dropped down +devoutly, as he exposed to view a little wooden doll, in face very like +General Tom Thumb, the American Dwarf: gorgeously dressed in satin and +gold lace, and actually blazing with rich jewels. There was scarcely a +spot upon its little breast, or neck, or stomach, but was sparkling with +the costly offerings of the Faithful. Presently, he lifted it out of the +box, and carrying it round among the kneelers, set its face against the +forehead of every one, and tendered its clumsy foot to them to kiss—a +ceremony which they all performed down to a dirty little ragamuffin of a +boy who had walked in from the street. When this was done, he laid it in +the box again: and the company, rising, drew near, and commended the +jewels in whispers. In good time, he replaced the coverings, shut up the +box, put it back in its place, locked up the whole concern (Holy Family +and all) behind a pair of folding-doors; took off his priestly vestments; +and received the customary ‘small charge,’ while his companion, by means +of an extinguisher fastened to the end of a long stick, put out the +lights, one after another. The candles being all extinguished, and the +money all collected, they retired, and so did the spectators. + +I met this same Bambíno, in the street a short time afterwards, going, in +great state, to the house of some sick person. It is taken to all parts +of Rome for this purpose, constantly; but, I understand that it is not +always as successful as could be wished; for, making its appearance at +the bedside of weak and nervous people in extremity, accompanied by a +numerous escort, it not unfrequently frightens them to death. It is most +popular in cases of child-birth, where it has done such wonders, that if +a lady be longer than usual in getting through her difficulties, a +messenger is despatched, with all speed, to solicit the immediate +attendance of the Bambíno. It is a very valuable property, and much +confided in—especially by the religious body to whom it belongs. + +I am happy to know that it is not considered immaculate, by some who are +good Catholics, and who are behind the scenes, from what was told me by +the near relation of a Priest, himself a Catholic, and a gentleman of +learning and intelligence. This Priest made my informant promise that he +would, on no account, allow the Bambíno to be borne into the bedroom of a +sick lady, in whom they were both interested. ‘For,’ said he, ‘if they +(the monks) trouble her with it, and intrude themselves into her room, it +will certainly kill her.’ My informant accordingly looked out of the +window when it came; and, with many thanks, declined to open the door. +He endeavoured, in another case of which he had no other knowledge than +such as he gained as a passer-by at the moment, to prevent its being +carried into a small unwholesome chamber, where a poor girl was dying. +But, he strove against it unsuccessfully, and she expired while the crowd +were pressing round her bed. + +Among the people who drop into St. Peter’s at their leisure, to kneel on +the pavement, and say a quiet prayer, there are certain schools and +seminaries, priestly and otherwise, that come in, twenty or thirty +strong. These boys always kneel down in single file, one behind the +other, with a tall grim master in a black gown, bringing up the rear: +like a pack of cards arranged to be tumbled down at a touch, with a +disproportionately large Knave of clubs at the end. When they have had a +minute or so at the chief altar, they scramble up, and filing off to the +chapel of the Madonna, or the sacrament, flop down again in the same +order; so that if anybody did stumble against the master, a general and +sudden overthrow of the whole line must inevitably ensue. + +The scene in all the churches is the strangest possible. The same +monotonous, heartless, drowsy chaunting, always going on; the same dark +building, darker from the brightness of the street without; the same +lamps dimly burning; the selfsame people kneeling here and there; turned +towards you, from one altar or other, the same priest’s back, with the +same large cross embroidered on it; however different in size, in shape, +in wealth, in architecture, this church is from that, it is the same +thing still. There are the same dirty beggars stopping in their muttered +prayers to beg; the same miserable cripples exhibiting their deformity at +the doors; the same blind men, rattling little pots like kitchen +pepper-castors: their depositories for alms; the same preposterous crowns +of silver stuck upon the painted heads of single saints and Virgins in +crowded pictures, so that a little figure on a mountain has a head-dress +bigger than the temple in the foreground, or adjacent miles of landscape; +the same favourite shrine or figure, smothered with little silver hearts +and crosses, and the like: the staple trade and show of all the +jewellers; the same odd mixture of respect and indecorum, faith and +phlegm: kneeling on the stones, and spitting on them, loudly; getting up +from prayers to beg a little, or to pursue some other worldly matter: and +then kneeling down again, to resume the contrite supplication at the +point where it was interrupted. In one church, a kneeling lady got up +from her prayer, for a moment, to offer us her card, as a teacher of +Music; and in another, a sedate gentleman with a very thick +walking-staff, arose from his devotions to belabour his dog, who was +growling at another dog: and whose yelps and howls resounded through the +church, as his master quietly relapsed into his former train of +meditation—keeping his eye upon the dog, at the same time, nevertheless. + +Above all, there is always a receptacle for the contributions of the +Faithful, in some form or other. Sometimes, it is a money-box, set up +between the worshipper, and the wooden life-size figure of the Redeemer; +sometimes, it is a little chest for the maintenance of the Virgin; +sometimes, an appeal on behalf of a popular Bambíno; sometimes, a bag at +the end of a long stick, thrust among the people here and there, and +vigilantly jingled by an active Sacristan; but there it always is, and, +very often, in many shapes in the same church, and doing pretty well in +all. Nor, is it wanting in the open air—the streets and roads—for, often +as you are walking along, thinking about anything rather than a tin +canister, that object pounces out upon you from a little house by the +wayside; and on its top is painted, ‘For the Souls in Purgatory;’ an +appeal which the bearer repeats a great many times, as he rattles it +before you, much as Punch rattles the cracked bell which his sanguine +disposition makes an organ of. + +And this reminds me that some Roman altars of peculiar sanctity, bear the +inscription, ‘Every Mass performed at this altar frees a soul from +Purgatory.’ I have never been able to find out the charge for one of +these services, but they should needs be expensive. There are several +Crosses in Rome too, the kissing of which, confers indulgences for +varying terms. That in the centre of the Coliseum, is worth a hundred +days; and people may be seen kissing it from morning to night. It is +curious that some of these crosses seem to acquire an arbitrary +popularity: this very one among them. In another part of the Coliseum +there is a cross upon a marble slab, with the inscription, ‘Who kisses +this cross shall be entitled to Two hundred and forty days’ indulgence.’ +But I saw no one person kiss it, though, day after day, I sat in the +arena, and saw scores upon scores of peasants pass it, on their way to +kiss the other. + +To single out details from the great dream of Roman Churches, would be +the wildest occupation in the world. But St. Stefano Rotondo, a damp, +mildewed vault of an old church in the outskirts of Rome, will always +struggle uppermost in my mind, by reason of the hideous paintings with +which its walls are covered. These represent the martyrdoms of saints +and early Christians; and such a panorama of horror and butchery no man +could imagine in his sleep, though he were to eat a whole pig raw, for +supper. Grey-bearded men being boiled, fried, grilled, crimped, singed, +eaten by wild beasts, worried by dogs, buried alive, torn asunder by +horses, chopped up small with hatchets: women having their breasts torn +with iron pinchers, their tongues cut out, their ears screwed off, their +jaws broken, their bodies stretched upon the rack, or skinned upon the +stake, or crackled up and melted in the fire: these are among the mildest +subjects. So insisted on, and laboured at, besides, that every sufferer +gives you the same occasion for wonder as poor old Duncan awoke, in Lady +Macbeth, when she marvelled at his having so much blood in him. + +There is an upper chamber in the Mamertine prisons, over what is said to +have been—and very possibly may have been—the dungeon of St. Peter. This +chamber is now fitted up as an oratory, dedicated to that saint; and it +lives, as a distinct and separate place, in my recollection, too. It is +very small and low-roofed; and the dread and gloom of the ponderous, +obdurate old prison are on it, as if they had come up in a dark mist +through the floor. Hanging on the walls, among the clustered votive +offerings, are objects, at once strangely in keeping, and strangely at +variance, with the place—rusty daggers, knives, pistols, clubs, divers +instruments of violence and murder, brought here, fresh from use, and +hung up to propitiate offended Heaven: as if the blood upon them would +drain off in consecrated air, and have no voice to cry with. It is all +so silent and so close, and tomb-like; and the dungeons below are so +black and stealthy, and stagnant, and naked; that this little dark spot +becomes a dream within a dream: and in the vision of great churches which +come rolling past me like a sea, it is a small wave by itself, that melts +into no other wave, and does not flow on with the rest. + +It is an awful thing to think of the enormous caverns that are entered +from some Roman churches, and undermine the city. Many churches have +crypts and subterranean chapels of great size, which, in the ancient +time, were baths, and secret chambers of temples, and what not: but I do +not speak of them. Beneath the church of St. Giovanni and St. Paolo, +there are the jaws of a terrific range of caverns, hewn out of the rock, +and said to have another outlet underneath the Coliseum—tremendous +darknesses of vast extent, half-buried in the earth and unexplorable, +where the dull torches, flashed by the attendants, glimmer down long +ranges of distant vaults branching to the right and left, like streets in +a city of the dead; and show the cold damp stealing down the walls, +drip-drop, drip-drop, to join the pools of water that lie here and there, +and never saw, or never will see, one ray of the sun. Some accounts make +these the prisons of the wild beasts destined for the amphitheatre; some +the prisons of the condemned gladiators; some, both. But the legend most +appalling to the fancy is, that in the upper range (for there are two +stories of these caves) the Early Christians destined to be eaten at the +Coliseum Shows, heard the wild beasts, hungry for them, roaring down +below; until, upon the night and solitude of their captivity, there burst +the sudden noon and life of the vast theatre crowded to the parapet, and +of these, their dreaded neighbours, bounding in! + +Below the church of San Sebastiano, two miles beyond the gate of San +Sebastiano, on the Appian Way, is the entrance to the catacombs of +Rome—quarries in the old time, but afterwards the hiding-places of the +Christians. These ghastly passages have been explored for twenty miles; +and form a chain of labyrinths, sixty miles in circumference. + +A gaunt Franciscan friar, with a wild bright eye, was our only guide, +down into this profound and dreadful place. The narrow ways and openings +hither and thither, coupled with the dead and heavy air, soon blotted +out, in all of us, any recollection of the track by which we had come: +and I could not help thinking ‘Good Heaven, if, in a sudden fit of +madness, he should dash the torches out, or if he should be seized with a +fit, what would become of us!’ On we wandered, among martyrs’ graves: +passing great subterranean vaulted roads, diverging in all directions, +and choked up with heaps of stones, that thieves and murderers may not +take refuge there, and form a population under Rome, even worse than that +which lives between it and the sun. Graves, graves, graves; Graves of +men, of women, of their little children, who ran crying to the +persecutors, ‘We are Christians! We are Christians!’ that they might be +murdered with their parents; Graves with the palm of martyrdom roughly +cut into their stone boundaries, and little niches, made to hold a vessel +of the martyrs’ blood; Graves of some who lived down here, for years +together, ministering to the rest, and preaching truth, and hope, and +comfort, from the rude altars, that bear witness to their fortitude at +this hour; more roomy graves, but far more terrible, where hundreds, +being surprised, were hemmed in and walled up: buried before Death, and +killed by slow starvation. + +‘The Triumphs of the Faith are not above ground in our splendid +churches,’ said the friar, looking round upon us, as we stopped to rest +in one of the low passages, with bones and dust surrounding us on every +side. ‘They are here! Among the Martyrs’ Graves!’ He was a gentle, +earnest man, and said it from his heart; but when I thought how Christian +men have dealt with one another; how, perverting our most merciful +religion, they have hunted down and tortured, burnt and beheaded, +strangled, slaughtered, and oppressed each other; I pictured to myself an +agony surpassing any that this Dust had suffered with the breath of life +yet lingering in it, and how these great and constant hearts would have +been shaken—how they would have quailed and drooped—if a foreknowledge of +the deeds that professing Christians would commit in the Great Name for +which they died, could have rent them with its own unutterable anguish, +on the cruel wheel, and bitter cross, and in the fearful fire. + + [Picture: In the Catacombs] + +Such are the spots and patches in my dream of churches, that remain +apart, and keep their separate identity. I have a fainter recollection, +sometimes of the relics; of the fragments of the pillar of the Temple +that was rent in twain; of the portion of the table that was spread for +the Last Supper; of the well at which the woman of Samaria gave water to +Our Saviour; of two columns from the house of Pontius Pilate; of the +stone to which the Sacred hands were bound, when the scourging was +performed; of the grid-iron of Saint Lawrence, and the stone below it, +marked with the frying of his fat and blood; these set a shadowy mark on +some cathedrals, as an old story, or a fable might, and stop them for an +instant, as they flit before me. The rest is a vast wilderness of +consecrated buildings of all shapes and fancies, blending one with +another; of battered pillars of old Pagan temples, dug up from the +ground, and forced, like giant captives, to support the roofs of +Christian churches; of pictures, bad, and wonderful, and impious, and +ridiculous; of kneeling people, curling incense, tinkling bells, and +sometimes (but not often) of a swelling organ: of Madonne, with their +breasts stuck full of swords, arranged in a half-circle like a modern +fan; of actual skeletons of dead saints, hideously attired in gaudy +satins, silks, and velvets trimmed with gold: their withered crust of +skull adorned with precious jewels, or with chaplets of crushed flowers; +sometimes of people gathered round the pulpit, and a monk within it +stretching out the crucifix, and preaching fiercely: the sun just +streaming down through some high window on the sail-cloth stretched above +him and across the church, to keep his high-pitched voice from being lost +among the echoes of the roof. Then my tired memory comes out upon a +flight of steps, where knots of people are asleep, or basking in the +light; and strolls away, among the rags, and smells, and palaces, and +hovels, of an old Italian street. + + * * * * * + +On one Saturday morning (the eighth of March), a man was beheaded here. +Nine or ten months before, he had waylaid a Bavarian countess, travelling +as a pilgrim to Rome—alone and on foot, of course—and performing, it is +said, that act of piety for the fourth time. He saw her change a piece +of gold at Viterbo, where he lived; followed her; bore her company on her +journey for some forty miles or more, on the treacherous pretext of +protecting her; attacked her, in the fulfilment of his unrelenting +purpose, on the Campagna, within a very short distance of Rome, near to +what is called (but what is not) the Tomb of Nero; robbed her; and beat +her to death with her own pilgrim’s staff. He was newly married, and +gave some of her apparel to his wife: saying that he had bought it at a +fair. She, however, who had seen the pilgrim-countess passing through +their town, recognised some trifle as having belonged to her. Her +husband then told her what he had done. She, in confession, told a +priest; and the man was taken, within four days after the commission of +the murder. + +There are no fixed times for the administration of justice, or its +execution, in this unaccountable country; and he had been in prison ever +since. On the Friday, as he was dining with the other prisoners, they +came and told him he was to be beheaded next morning, and took him away. +It is very unusual to execute in Lent; but his crime being a very bad +one, it was deemed advisable to make an example of him at that time, when +great numbers of pilgrims were coming towards Rome, from all parts, for +the Holy Week. I heard of this on the Friday evening, and saw the bills +up at the churches, calling on the people to pray for the criminal’s +soul. So, I determined to go, and see him executed. + +The beheading was appointed for fourteen and a-half o’clock, Roman time: +or a quarter before nine in the forenoon. I had two friends with me; and +as we did not know but that the crowd might be very great, we were on the +spot by half-past seven. The place of execution was near the church of +San Giovanni decolláto (a doubtful compliment to Saint John the Baptist) +in one of the impassable back streets without any footway, of which a +great part of Rome is composed—a street of rotten houses, which do not +seem to belong to anybody, and do not seem to have ever been inhabited, +and certainly were never built on any plan, or for any particular +purpose, and have no window-sashes, and are a little like deserted +breweries, and might be warehouses but for having nothing in them. +Opposite to one of these, a white house, the scaffold was built. An +untidy, unpainted, uncouth, crazy-looking thing of course: some seven +feet high, perhaps: with a tall, gallows-shaped frame rising above it, in +which was the knife, charged with a ponderous mass of iron, all ready to +descend, and glittering brightly in the morning sun, whenever it looked +out, now and then, from behind a cloud. + +There were not many people lingering about; and these were kept at a +considerable distance from the scaffold, by parties of the Pope’s +dragoons. Two or three hundred foot-soldiers were under arms, standing +at ease in clusters here and there; and the officers were walking up and +down in twos and threes, chatting together, and smoking cigars. + +At the end of the street, was an open space, where there would be a +dust-heap, and piles of broken crockery, and mounds of vegetable refuse, +but for such things being thrown anywhere and everywhere in Rome, and +favouring no particular sort of locality. We got into a kind of +wash-house, belonging to a dwelling-house on this spot; and standing +there in an old cart, and on a heap of cartwheels piled against the wall, +looked, through a large grated window, at the scaffold, and straight down +the street beyond it until, in consequence of its turning off abruptly to +the left, our perspective was brought to a sudden termination, and had a +corpulent officer, in a cocked hat, for its crowning feature. + +Nine o’clock struck, and ten o’clock struck, and nothing happened. All +the bells of all the churches rang as usual. A little parliament of dogs +assembled in the open space, and chased each other, in and out among the +soldiers. Fierce-looking Romans of the lowest class, in blue cloaks, +russet cloaks, and rags uncloaked, came and went, and talked together. +Women and children fluttered, on the skirts of the scanty crowd. One +large muddy spot was left quite bare, like a bald place on a man’s head. +A cigar-merchant, with an earthen pot of charcoal ashes in one hand, went +up and down, crying his wares. A pastry-merchant divided his attention +between the scaffold and his customers. Boys tried to climb up walls, +and tumbled down again. Priests and monks elbowed a passage for +themselves among the people, and stood on tiptoe for a sight of the +knife: then went away. Artists, in inconceivable hats of the +middle-ages, and beards (thank Heaven!) of no age at all, flashed +picturesque scowls about them from their stations in the throng. One +gentleman (connected with the fine arts, I presume) went up and down in a +pair of Hessian-boots, with a red beard hanging down on his breast, and +his long and bright red hair, plaited into two tails, one on either side +of his head, which fell over his shoulders in front of him, very nearly +to his waist, and were carefully entwined and braided! + +Eleven o’clock struck and still nothing happened. A rumour got about, +among the crowd, that the criminal would not confess; in which case, the +priests would keep him until the Ave Maria (sunset); for it is their +merciful custom never finally to turn the crucifix away from a man at +that pass, as one refusing to be shriven, and consequently a sinner +abandoned of the Saviour, until then. People began to drop off. The +officers shrugged their shoulders and looked doubtful. The dragoons, who +came riding up below our window, every now and then, to order an unlucky +hackney-coach or cart away, as soon as it had comfortably established +itself, and was covered with exulting people (but never before), became +imperious, and quick-tempered. The bald place hadn’t a straggling hair +upon it; and the corpulent officer, crowning the perspective, took a +world of snuff. + +Suddenly, there was a noise of trumpets. ‘Attention!’ was among the +foot-soldiers instantly. They were marched up to the scaffold and formed +round it. The dragoons galloped to their nearer stations too. The +guillotine became the centre of a wood of bristling bayonets and shining +sabres. The people closed round nearer, on the flank of the soldiery. A +long straggling stream of men and boys, who had accompanied the +procession from the prison, came pouring into the open space. The bald +spot was scarcely distinguishable from the rest. The cigar and +pastry-merchants resigned all thoughts of business, for the moment, and +abandoning themselves wholly to pleasure, got good situations in the +crowd. The perspective ended, now, in a troop of dragoons. And the +corpulent officer, sword in hand, looked hard at a church close to him, +which he could see, but we, the crowd, could not. + +After a short delay, some monks were seen approaching to the scaffold +from this church; and above their heads, coming on slowly and gloomily, +the effigy of Christ upon the cross, canopied with black. This was +carried round the foot of the scaffold, to the front, and turned towards +the criminal, that he might see it to the last. It was hardly in its +place, when he appeared on the platform, bare-footed; his hands bound; +and with the collar and neck of his shirt cut away, almost to the +shoulder. A young man—six-and-twenty—vigorously made, and well-shaped. +Face pale; small dark moustache; and dark brown hair. + +He had refused to confess, it seemed, without first having his wife +brought to see him; and they had sent an escort for her, which had +occasioned the delay. + +He immediately kneeled down, below the knife. His neck fitting into a +hole, made for the purpose, in a cross plank, was shut down, by another +plank above; exactly like the pillory. Immediately below him was a +leathern bag. And into it his head rolled instantly. + +The executioner was holding it by the hair, and walking with it round the +scaffold, showing it to the people, before one quite knew that the knife +had fallen heavily, and with a rattling sound. + +When it had travelled round the four sides of the scaffold, it was set +upon a pole in front—a little patch of black and white, for the long +street to stare at, and the flies to settle on. The eyes were turned +upward, as if he had avoided the sight of the leathern bag, and looked to +the crucifix. Every tinge and hue of life had left it in that instant. +It was dull, cold, livid, wax. The body also. + +There was a great deal of blood. When we left the window, and went close +up to the scaffold, it was very dirty; one of the two men who were +throwing water over it, turning to help the other lift the body into a +shell, picked his way as through mire. A strange appearance was the +apparent annihilation of the neck. The head was taken off so close, that +it seemed as if the knife had narrowly escaped crushing the jaw, or +shaving off the ear; and the body looked as if there were nothing left +above the shoulder. + +Nobody cared, or was at all affected. There was no manifestation of +disgust, or pity, or indignation, or sorrow. My empty pockets were +tried, several times, in the crowd immediately below the scaffold, as the +corpse was being put into its coffin. It was an ugly, filthy, careless, +sickening spectacle; meaning nothing but butchery beyond the momentary +interest, to the one wretched actor. Yes! Such a sight has one meaning +and one warning. Let me not forget it. The speculators in the lottery, +station themselves at favourable points for counting the gouts of blood +that spirt out, here or there; and buy that number. It is pretty sure to +have a run upon it. + +The body was carted away in due time, the knife cleansed, the scaffold +taken down, and all the hideous apparatus removed. The executioner: an +outlaw _ex officio_ (what a satire on the Punishment!) who dare not, for +his life, cross the Bridge of St. Angelo but to do his work: retreated to +his lair, and the show was over. + + * * * * * + +At the head of the collections in the palaces of Rome, the Vatican, of +course, with its treasures of art, its enormous galleries, and +staircases, and suites upon suites of immense chambers, ranks highest and +stands foremost. Many most noble statues, and wonderful pictures, are +there; nor is it heresy to say that there is a considerable amount of +rubbish there, too. When any old piece of sculpture dug out of the +ground, finds a place in a gallery because it is old, and without any +reference to its intrinsic merits: and finds admirers by the hundred, +because it is there, and for no other reason on earth: there will be no +lack of objects, very indifferent in the plain eyesight of any one who +employs so vulgar a property, when he may wear the spectacles of Cant for +less than nothing, and establish himself as a man of taste for the mere +trouble of putting them on. + +I unreservedly confess, for myself, that I cannot leave my natural +perception of what is natural and true, at a palace-door, in Italy or +elsewhere, as I should leave my shoes if I were travelling in the East. +I cannot forget that there are certain expressions of face, natural to +certain passions, and as unchangeable in their nature as the gait of a +lion, or the flight of an eagle. I cannot dismiss from my certain +knowledge, such commonplace facts as the ordinary proportion of men’s +arms, and legs, and heads; and when I meet with performances that do +violence to these experiences and recollections, no matter where they may +be, I cannot honestly admire them, and think it best to say so; in spite +of high critical advice that we should sometimes feign an admiration, +though we have it not. + +Therefore, I freely acknowledge that when I see a jolly young Waterman +representing a cherubim, or a Barclay and Perkins’s Drayman depicted as +an Evangelist, I see nothing to commend or admire in the performance, +however great its reputed Painter. Neither am I partial to libellous +Angels, who play on fiddles and bassoons, for the edification of +sprawling monks apparently in liquor. Nor to those Monsieur Tonsons of +galleries, Saint Francis and Saint Sebastian; both of whom I submit +should have very uncommon and rare merits, as works of art, to justify +their compound multiplication by Italian Painters. + +It seems to me, too, that the indiscriminate and determined raptures in +which some critics indulge, is incompatible with the true appreciation of +the really great and transcendent works. I cannot imagine, for example, +how the resolute champion of undeserving pictures can soar to the amazing +beauty of Titian’s great picture of the Assumption of the Virgin at +Venice; or how the man who is truly affected by the sublimity of that +exquisite production, or who is truly sensible of the beauty of +Tintoretto’s great picture of the Assembly of the Blessed in the same +place, can discern in Michael Angelo’s Last Judgment, in the Sistine +chapel, any general idea, or one pervading thought, in harmony with the +stupendous subject. He who will contemplate Raphael’s masterpiece, the +Transfiguration, and will go away into another chamber of that same +Vatican, and contemplate another design of Raphael, representing (in +incredible caricature) the miraculous stopping of a great fire by Leo the +Fourth—and who will say that he admires them both, as works of +extraordinary genius—must, as I think, be wanting in his powers of +perception in one of the two instances, and, probably, in the high and +lofty one. + +It is easy to suggest a doubt, but I have a great doubt whether, +sometimes, the rules of art are not too strictly observed, and whether it +is quite well or agreeable that we should know beforehand, where this +figure will be turning round, and where that figure will be lying down, +and where there will be drapery in folds, and so forth. When I observe +heads inferior to the subject, in pictures of merit, in Italian +galleries, I do not attach that reproach to the Painter, for I have a +suspicion that these great men, who were, of necessity, very much in the +hands of monks and priests, painted monks and priests a great deal too +often. I frequently see, in pictures of real power, heads quite below +the story and the painter: and I invariably observe that those heads are +of the Convent stamp, and have their counterparts among the Convent +inmates of this hour; so, I have settled with myself that, in such cases, +the lameness was not with the painter, but with the vanity and ignorance +of certain of his employers, who would be apostles—on canvas, at all +events. + +The exquisite grace and beauty of Canova’s statues; the wonderful gravity +and repose of many of the ancient works in sculpture, both in the Capitol +and the Vatican; and the strength and fire of many others; are, in their +different ways, beyond all reach of words. They are especially +impressive and delightful, after the works of Bernini and his disciples, +in which the churches of Rome, from St. Peter’s downward, abound; and +which are, I verily believe, the most detestable class of productions in +the wide world. I would infinitely rather (as mere works of art) look +upon the three deities of the Past, the Present, and the Future, in the +Chinese Collection, than upon the best of these breezy maniacs; whose +every fold of drapery is blown inside-out; whose smallest vein, or +artery, is as big as an ordinary forefinger; whose hair is like a nest of +lively snakes; and whose attitudes put all other extravagance to shame. +Insomuch that I do honestly believe, there can be no place in the world, +where such intolerable abortions, begotten of the sculptor’s chisel, are +to be found in such profusion, as in Rome. + +There is a fine collection of Egyptian antiquities, in the Vatican; and +the ceilings of the rooms in which they are arranged, are painted to +represent a starlight sky in the Desert. It may seem an odd idea, but it +is very effective. The grim, half-human monsters from the temples, look +more grim and monstrous underneath the deep dark blue; it sheds a strange +uncertain gloomy air on everything—a mystery adapted to the objects; and +you leave them, as you find them, shrouded in a solemn night. + +In the private palaces, pictures are seen to the best advantage. There +are seldom so many in one place that the attention need become +distracted, or the eye confused. You see them very leisurely; and are +rarely interrupted by a crowd of people. There are portraits +innumerable, by Titian, and Rembrandt, and Vandyke; heads by Guido, and +Domenichino, and Carlo Dolci; various subjects by Correggio, and Murillo, +and Raphael, and Salvator Rosa, and Spagnoletto—many of which it would be +difficult, indeed, to praise too highly, or to praise enough; such is +their tenderness and grace; their noble elevation, purity, and beauty. + +The portrait of Beatrice di Cenci, in the Palazzo Berberini, is a picture +almost impossible to be forgotten. Through the transcendent sweetness +and beauty of the face, there is a something shining out, that haunts me. +I see it now, as I see this paper, or my pen. The head is loosely draped +in white; the light hair falling down below the linen folds. She has +turned suddenly towards you; and there is an expression in the +eyes—although they are very tender and gentle—as if the wildness of a +momentary terror, or distraction, had been struggled with and overcome, +that instant; and nothing but a celestial hope, and a beautiful sorrow, +and a desolate earthly helplessness remained. Some stories say that +Guido painted it, the night before her execution; some other stories, +that he painted it from memory, after having seen her, on her way to the +scaffold. I am willing to believe that, as you see her on his canvas, so +she turned towards him, in the crowd, from the first sight of the axe, +and stamped upon his mind a look which he has stamped on mine as though I +had stood beside him in the concourse. The guilty palace of the Cenci: +blighting a whole quarter of the town, as it stands withering away by +grains: had that face, to my fancy, in its dismal porch, and at its +black, blind windows, and flitting up and down its dreary stairs, and +growing out of the darkness of the ghostly galleries. The History is +written in the Painting; written, in the dying girl’s face, by Nature’s +own hand. And oh! how in that one touch she puts to flight (instead of +making kin) the puny world that claim to be related to her, in right of +poor conventional forgeries! + +I saw in the Palazzo Spada, the statue of Pompey; the statue at whose +base Cæsar fell. A stern, tremendous figure! I imagined one of greater +finish: of the last refinement: full of delicate touches: losing its +distinctness, in the giddy eyes of one whose blood was ebbing before it, +and settling into some such rigid majesty as this, as Death came creeping +over the upturned face. + +The excursions in the neighbourhood of Rome are charming, and would be +full of interest were it only for the changing views they afford, of the +wild Campagna. But, every inch of ground, in every direction, is rich in +associations, and in natural beauties. There is Albano, with its lovely +lake and wooded shore, and with its wine, that certainly has not improved +since the days of Horace, and in these times hardly justifies his +panegyric. There is squalid Tivoli, with the river Anio, diverted from +its course, and plunging down, headlong, some eighty feet in search of +it. With its picturesque Temple of the Sibyl, perched high on a crag; +its minor waterfalls glancing and sparkling in the sun; and one good +cavern yawning darkly, where the river takes a fearful plunge and shoots +on, low down under beetling rocks. There, too, is the Villa d’Este, +deserted and decaying among groves of melancholy pine and cypress trees, +where it seems to lie in state. Then, there is Frascati, and, on the +steep above it, the ruins of Tusculum, where Cicero lived, and wrote, and +adorned his favourite house (some fragments of it may yet be seen there), +and where Cato was born. We saw its ruined amphitheatre on a grey, dull +day, when a shrill March wind was blowing, and when the scattered stones +of the old city lay strewn about the lonely eminence, as desolate and +dead as the ashes of a long extinguished fire. + +One day we walked out, a little party of three, to Albano, fourteen miles +distant; possessed by a great desire to go there by the ancient Appian +way, long since ruined and overgrown. We started at half-past seven in +the morning, and within an hour or so were out upon the open Campagna. +For twelve miles we went climbing on, over an unbroken succession of +mounds, and heaps, and hills, of ruin. Tombs and temples, overthrown and +prostrate; small fragments of columns, friezes, pediments; great blocks +of granite and marble; mouldering arches, grass-grown and decayed; ruin +enough to build a spacious city from; lay strewn about us. Sometimes, +loose walls, built up from these fragments by the shepherds, came across +our path; sometimes, a ditch between two mounds of broken stones, +obstructed our progress; sometimes, the fragments themselves, rolling +from beneath our feet, made it a toilsome matter to advance; but it was +always ruin. Now, we tracked a piece of the old road, above the ground; +now traced it, underneath a grassy covering, as if that were its grave; +but all the way was ruin. In the distance, ruined aqueducts went +stalking on their giant course along the plain; and every breath of wind +that swept towards us, stirred early flowers and grasses, springing up, +spontaneously, on miles of ruin. The unseen larks above us, who alone +disturbed the awful silence, had their nests in ruin; and the fierce +herdsmen, clad in sheepskins, who now and then scowled out upon us from +their sleeping nooks, were housed in ruin. The aspect of the desolate +Campagna in one direction, where it was most level, reminded me of an +American prairie; but what is the solitude of a region where men have +never dwelt, to that of a Desert, where a mighty race have left their +footprints in the earth from which they have vanished; where the +resting-places of their Dead, have fallen like their Dead; and the broken +hour-glass of Time is but a heap of idle dust! Returning, by the road, +at sunset! and looking, from the distance, on the course we had taken in +the morning, I almost feel (as I had felt when I first saw it, at that +hour) as if the sun would never rise again, but looked its last, that +night, upon a ruined world. + +To come again on Rome, by moonlight, after such an expedition, is a +fitting close to such a day. The narrow streets, devoid of footways, and +choked, in every obscure corner, by heaps of dunghill-rubbish, contrast +so strongly, in their cramped dimensions, and their filth, and darkness, +with the broad square before some haughty church: in the centre of which, +a hieroglyphic-covered obelisk, brought from Egypt in the days of the +Emperors, looks strangely on the foreign scene about it; or perhaps an +ancient pillar, with its honoured statue overthrown, supports a Christian +saint: Marcus Aurelius giving place to Paul, and Trajan to St. Peter. +Then, there are the ponderous buildings reared from the spoliation of the +Coliseum, shutting out the moon, like mountains: while here and there, +are broken arches and rent walls, through which it gushes freely, as the +life comes pouring from a wound. The little town of miserable houses, +walled, and shut in by barred gates, is the quarter where the Jews are +locked up nightly, when the clock strikes eight—a miserable place, +densely populated, and reeking with bad odours, but where the people are +industrious and money-getting. In the day-time, as you make your way +along the narrow streets, you see them all at work: upon the pavement, +oftener than in their dark and frouzy shops: furbishing old clothes, and +driving bargains. + +Crossing from these patches of thick darkness, out into the moon once +more, the fountain of Trevi, welling from a hundred jets, and rolling +over mimic rocks, is silvery to the eye and ear. In the narrow little +throat of street, beyond, a booth, dressed out with flaring lamps, and +boughs of trees, attracts a group of sulky Romans round its smoky coppers +of hot broth, and cauliflower stew; its trays of fried fish, and its +flasks of wine. As you rattle round the sharply-twisting corner, a +lumbering sound is heard. The coachman stops abruptly, and uncovers, as +a van comes slowly by, preceded by a man who bears a large cross; by a +torch-bearer; and a priest: the latter chaunting as he goes. It is the +Dead Cart, with the bodies of the poor, on their way to burial in the +Sacred Field outside the walls, where they will be thrown into the pit +that will be covered with a stone to-night, and sealed up for a year. + +But whether, in this ride, you pass by obelisks, or columns ancient +temples, theatres, houses, porticoes, or forums: it is strange to see, +how every fragment, whenever it is possible, has been blended into some +modern structure, and made to serve some modern purpose—a wall, a +dwelling-place, a granary, a stable—some use for which it never was +designed, and associated with which it cannot otherwise than lamely +assort. It is stranger still, to see how many ruins of the old +mythology: how many fragments of obsolete legend and observance: have +been incorporated into the worship of Christian altars here; and how, in +numberless respects, the false faith and the true are fused into a +monstrous union. + +From one part of the city, looking out beyond the walls, a squat and +stunted pyramid (the burial-place of Caius Cestius) makes an opaque +triangle in the moonlight. But, to an English traveller, it serves to +mark the grave of Shelley too, whose ashes lie beneath a little garden +near it. Nearer still, almost within its shadow, lie the bones of Keats, +‘whose name is writ in water,’ that shines brightly in the landscape of a +calm Italian night. + +The Holy Week in Rome is supposed to offer great attractions to all +visitors; but, saving for the sights of Easter Sunday, I would counsel +those who go to Rome for its own interest, to avoid it at that time. The +ceremonies, in general, are of the most tedious and wearisome kind; the +heat and crowd at every one of them, painfully oppressive; the noise, +hubbub, and confusion, quite distracting. We abandoned the pursuit of +these shows, very early in the proceedings, and betook ourselves to the +Ruins again. But, we plunged into the crowd for a share of the best of +the sights; and what we saw, I will describe to you. + +At the Sistine chapel, on the Wednesday, we saw very little, for by the +time we reached it (though we were early) the besieging crowd had filled +it to the door, and overflowed into the adjoining hall, where they were +struggling, and squeezing, and mutually expostulating, and making great +rushes every time a lady was brought out faint, as if at least fifty +people could be accommodated in her vacant standing-room. Hanging in the +doorway of the chapel, was a heavy curtain, and this curtain, some twenty +people nearest to it, in their anxiety to hear the chaunting of the +Miserere, were continually plucking at, in opposition to each other, that +it might not fall down and stifle the sound of the voices. The +consequence was, that it occasioned the most extraordinary confusion, and +seemed to wind itself about the unwary, like a Serpent. Now, a lady was +wrapped up in it, and couldn’t be unwound. Now, the voice of a stifling +gentleman was heard inside it, beseeching to be let out. Now, two +muffled arms, no man could say of which sex, struggled in it as in a +sack. Now, it was carried by a rush, bodily overhead into the chapel, +like an awning. Now, it came out the other way, and blinded one of the +Pope’s Swiss Guard, who had arrived, that moment, to set things to +rights. + +Being seated at a little distance, among two or three of the Pope’s +gentlemen, who were very weary and counting the minutes—as perhaps his +Holiness was too—we had better opportunities of observing this eccentric +entertainment, than of hearing the Miserere. Sometimes, there was a +swell of mournful voices that sounded very pathetic and sad, and died +away, into a low strain again; but that was all we heard. + +At another time, there was the Exhibition of Relics in St. Peter’s, which +took place at between six and seven o’clock in the evening, and was +striking from the cathedral being dark and gloomy, and having a great +many people in it. The place into which the relics were brought, one by +one, by a party of three priests, was a high balcony near the chief +altar. This was the only lighted part of the church. There are always a +hundred and twelve lamps burning near the altar, and there were two tall +tapers, besides, near the black statue of St. Peter; but these were +nothing in such an immense edifice. The gloom, and the general upturning +of faces to the balcony, and the prostration of true believers on the +pavement, as shining objects, like pictures or looking-glasses, were +brought out and shown, had something effective in it, despite the very +preposterous manner in which they were held up for the general +edification, and the great elevation at which they were displayed; which +one would think rather calculated to diminish the comfort derivable from +a full conviction of their being genuine. + +On the Thursday, we went to see the Pope convey the Sacrament from the +Sistine chapel, to deposit it in the Capella Paolina, another chapel in +the Vatican;—a ceremony emblematical of the entombment of the Saviour +before His Resurrection. We waited in a great gallery with a great crowd +of people (three-fourths of them English) for an hour or so, while they +were chaunting the Miserere, in the Sistine chapel again. Both chapels +opened out of the gallery; and the general attention was concentrated on +the occasional opening and shutting of the door of the one for which the +Pope was ultimately bound. None of these openings disclosed anything +more tremendous than a man on a ladder, lighting a great quantity of +candles; but at each and every opening, there was a terrific rush made at +this ladder and this man, something like (I should think) a charge of the +heavy British cavalry at Waterloo. The man was never brought down, +however, nor the ladder; for it performed the strangest antics in the +world among the crowd—where it was carried by the man, when the candles +were all lighted; and finally it was stuck up against the gallery wall, +in a very disorderly manner, just before the opening of the other chapel, +and the commencement of a new chaunt, announced the approach of his +Holiness. At this crisis, the soldiers of the guard, who had been poking +the crowd into all sorts of shapes, formed down the gallery: and the +procession came up, between the two lines they made. + +There were a few choristers, and then a great many priests, walking two +and two, and carrying—the good-looking priests at least—their lighted +tapers, so as to throw the light with a good effect upon their faces: for +the room was darkened. Those who were not handsome, or who had not long +beards, carried _their_ tapers anyhow, and abandoned themselves to +spiritual contemplation. Meanwhile, the chaunting was very monotonous +and dreary. The procession passed on, slowly, into the chapel, and the +drone of voices went on, and came on, with it, until the Pope himself +appeared, walking under a white satin canopy, and bearing the covered +Sacrament in both hands; cardinals and canons clustered round him, making +a brilliant show. The soldiers of the guard knelt down as he passed; all +the bystanders bowed; and so he passed on into the chapel: the white +satin canopy being removed from over him at the door, and a white satin +parasol hoisted over his poor old head, in place of it. A few more +couples brought up the rear, and passed into the chapel also. Then, the +chapel door was shut; and it was all over; and everybody hurried off +headlong, as for life or death, to see something else, and say it wasn’t +worth the trouble. + +I think the most popular and most crowded sight (excepting those of +Easter Sunday and Monday, which are open to all classes of people) was +the Pope washing the feet of Thirteen men, representing the twelve +apostles, and Judas Iscariot. The place in which this pious office is +performed, is one of the chapels of St. Peter’s, which is gaily decorated +for the occasion; the thirteen sitting, ‘all of a row,’ on a very high +bench, and looking particularly uncomfortable, with the eyes of Heaven +knows how many English, French, Americans, Swiss, Germans, Russians, +Swedes, Norwegians, and other foreigners, nailed to their faces all the +time. They are robed in white; and on their heads they wear a stiff +white cap, like a large English porter-pot, without a handle. Each +carries in his hand, a nosegay, of the size of a fine cauliflower; and +two of them, on this occasion, wore spectacles; which, remembering the +characters they sustained, I thought a droll appendage to the costume. +There was a great eye to character. St. John was represented by a +good-looking young man. St. Peter, by a grave-looking old gentleman, +with a flowing brown beard; and Judas Iscariot by such an enormous +hypocrite (I could not make out, though, whether the expression of his +face was real or assumed) that if he had acted the part to the death and +had gone away and hanged himself, he would have left nothing to be +desired. + +As the two large boxes, appropriated to ladies at this sight, were full +to the throat, and getting near was hopeless, we posted off, along with a +great crowd, to be in time at the Table, where the Pope, in person, waits +on these Thirteen; and after a prodigious struggle at the Vatican +staircase, and several personal conflicts with the Swiss guard, the whole +crowd swept into the room. It was a long gallery hung with drapery of +white and red, with another great box for ladies (who are obliged to +dress in black at these ceremonies, and to wear black veils), a royal box +for the King of Naples and his party; and the table itself, which, set +out like a ball supper, and ornamented with golden figures of the real +apostles, was arranged on an elevated platform on one side of the +gallery. The counterfeit apostles’ knives and forks were laid out on +that side of the table which was nearest to the wall, so that they might +be stared at again, without let or hindrance. + +The body of the room was full of male strangers; the crowd immense; the +heat very great; and the pressure sometimes frightful. It was at its +height, when the stream came pouring in, from the feet-washing; and then +there were such shrieks and outcries, that a party of Piedmontese +dragoons went to the rescue of the Swiss guard, and helped them to calm +the tumult. + +The ladies were particularly ferocious, in their struggles for places. +One lady of my acquaintance was seized round the waist, in the ladies’ +box, by a strong matron, and hoisted out of her place; and there was +another lady (in a back row in the same box) who improved her position by +sticking a large pin into the ladies before her. + +The gentlemen about me were remarkably anxious to see what was on the +table; and one Englishman seemed to have embarked the whole energy of his +nature in the determination to discover whether there was any mustard. +‘By Jupiter there’s vinegar!’ I heard him say to his friend, after he had +stood on tiptoe an immense time, and had been crushed and beaten on all +sides. ‘And there’s oil! I saw them distinctly, in cruets! Can any +gentleman, in front there, see mustard on the table? Sir, will you +oblige me! _Do_ you see a Mustard-Pot?’ + +The apostles and Judas appearing on the platform, after much expectation, +were marshalled, in line, in front of the table, with Peter at the top; +and a good long stare was taken at them by the company, while twelve of +them took a long smell at their nosegays, and Judas—moving his lips very +obtrusively—engaged in inward prayer. Then, the Pope, clad in a scarlet +robe, and wearing on his head a skull-cap of white satin, appeared in the +midst of a crowd of Cardinals and other dignitaries, and took in his hand +a little golden ewer, from which he poured a little water over one of +Peter’s hands, while one attendant held a golden basin; a second, a fine +cloth; a third, Peter’s nosegay, which was taken from him during the +operation. This his Holiness performed, with considerable expedition, on +every man in the line (Judas, I observed, to be particularly overcome by +his condescension); and then the whole Thirteen sat down to dinner. +Grace said by the Pope. Peter in the chair. + +There was white wine, and red wine: and the dinner looked very good. The +courses appeared in portions, one for each apostle: and these being +presented to the Pope, by Cardinals upon their knees, were by him handed +to the Thirteen. The manner in which Judas grew more white-livered over +his victuals, and languished, with his head on one side, as if he had no +appetite, defies all description. Peter was a good, sound, old man, and +went in, as the saying is, ‘to win;’ eating everything that was given him +(he got the best: being first in the row) and saying nothing to anybody. +The dishes appeared to be chiefly composed of fish and vegetables. The +Pope helped the Thirteen to wine also; and, during the whole dinner, +somebody read something aloud, out of a large book—the Bible, I +presume—which nobody could hear, and to which nobody paid the least +attention. The Cardinals, and other attendants, smiled to each other, +from time to time, as if the thing were a great farce; and if they +thought so, there is little doubt they were perfectly right. His +Holiness did what he had to do, as a sensible man gets through a +troublesome ceremony, and seemed very glad when it was all over. + +The Pilgrims’ Suppers: where lords and ladies waited on the Pilgrims, in +token of humility, and dried their feet when they had been well washed by +deputy: were very attractive. But, of all the many spectacles of +dangerous reliance on outward observances, in themselves mere empty +forms, none struck me half so much as the Scala Santa, or Holy Staircase, +which I saw several times, but to the greatest advantage, or +disadvantage, on Good Friday. + +This holy staircase is composed of eight-and-twenty steps, said to have +belonged to Pontius Pilate’s house and to be the identical stair on which +Our Saviour trod, in coming down from the judgment-seat. Pilgrims ascend +it, only on their knees. It is steep; and, at the summit, is a chapel, +reported to be full of relics; into which they peep through some iron +bars, and then come down again, by one of two side staircases, which are +not sacred, and may be walked on. + +On Good Friday, there were, on a moderate computation, a hundred people, +slowly shuffling up these stairs, on their knees, at one time; while +others, who were going up, or had come down—and a few who had done both, +and were going up again for the second time—stood loitering in the porch +below, where an old gentleman in a sort of watch-box, rattled a tin +canister, with a slit in the top, incessantly, to remind them that he +took the money. The majority were country-people, male and female. +There were four or five Jesuit priests, however, and some half-dozen +well-dressed women. A whole school of boys, twenty at least, were about +half-way up—evidently enjoying it very much. They were all wedged +together, pretty closely; but the rest of the company gave the boys as +wide a berth as possible, in consequence of their betraying some +recklessness in the management of their boots. + +I never, in my life, saw anything at once so ridiculous, and so +unpleasant, as this sight—ridiculous in the absurd incidents inseparable +from it; and unpleasant in its senseless and unmeaning degradation. +There are two steps to begin with, and then a rather broad landing. The +more rigid climbers went along this landing on their knees, as well as up +the stairs; and the figures they cut, in their shuffling progress over +the level surface, no description can paint. Then, to see them watch +their opportunity from the porch, and cut in where there was a place next +the wall! And to see one man with an umbrella (brought on purpose, for +it was a fine day) hoisting himself, unlawfully, from stair to stair! +And to observe a demure lady of fifty-five or so, looking back, every now +and then, to assure herself that her legs were properly disposed! + +There were such odd differences in the speed of different people, too. +Some got on as if they were doing a match against time; others stopped to +say a prayer on every step. This man touched every stair with his +forehead, and kissed it; that man scratched his head all the way. The +boys got on brilliantly, and were up and down again before the old lady +had accomplished her half-dozen stairs. But most of the penitents came +down, very sprightly and fresh, as having done a real good substantial +deed which it would take a good deal of sin to counterbalance; and the +old gentleman in the watch-box was down upon them with his canister while +they were in this humour, I promise you. + +As if such a progress were not in its nature inevitably droll enough, +there lay, on the top of the stairs, a wooden figure on a crucifix, +resting on a sort of great iron saucer: so rickety and unsteady, that +whenever an enthusiastic person kissed the figure, with more than usual +devotion, or threw a coin into the saucer, with more than common +readiness (for it served in this respect as a second or supplementary +canister), it gave a great leap and rattle, and nearly shook the +attendant lamp out: horribly frightening the people further down, and +throwing the guilty party into unspeakable embarrassment. + +On Easter Sunday, as well as on the preceding Thursday, the Pope bestows +his benediction on the people, from the balcony in front of St. Peter’s. +This Easter Sunday was a day so bright and blue: so cloudless, balmy, +wonderfully bright: that all the previous bad weather vanished from the +recollection in a moment. I had seen the Thursday’s Benediction dropping +damply on some hundreds of umbrellas, but there was not a sparkle then, +in all the hundred fountains of Rome—such fountains as they are!—and on +this Sunday morning they were running diamonds. The miles of miserable +streets through which we drove (compelled to a certain course by the +Pope’s dragoons: the Roman police on such occasions) were so full of +colour, that nothing in them was capable of wearing a faded aspect. The +common people came out in their gayest dresses; the richer people in +their smartest vehicles; Cardinals rattled to the church of the Poor +Fishermen in their state carriages; shabby magnificence flaunted its +thread-bare liveries and tarnished cocked hats, in the sun; and every +coach in Rome was put in requisition for the Great Piazza of St. Peter’s. + +One hundred and fifty thousand people were there at least! Yet there was +ample room. How many carriages were there, I don’t know; yet there was +room for them too, and to spare. The great steps of the church were +densely crowded. There were many of the Contadini, from Albano (who +delight in red), in that part of the square, and the mingling of bright +colours in the crowd was beautiful. Below the steps the troops were +ranged. In the magnificent proportions of the place they looked like a +bed of flowers. Sulky Romans, lively peasants from the neighbouring +country, groups of pilgrims from distant parts of Italy, sight-seeing +foreigners of all nations, made a murmur in the clear air, like so many +insects; and high above them all, plashing and bubbling, and making +rainbow colours in the light, the two delicious fountains welled and +tumbled bountifully. + +A kind of bright carpet was hung over the front of the balcony; and the +sides of the great window were bedecked with crimson drapery. An awning +was stretched, too, over the top, to screen the old man from the hot rays +of the sun. As noon approached, all eyes were turned up to this window. +In due time, the chair was seen approaching to the front, with the +gigantic fans of peacock’s feathers, close behind. The doll within it +(for the balcony is very high) then rose up, and stretched out its tiny +arms, while all the male spectators in the square uncovered, and some, +but not by any means the greater part, kneeled down. The guns upon the +ramparts of the Castle of St. Angelo proclaimed, next moment, that the +benediction was given; drums beat; trumpets sounded; arms clashed; and +the great mass below, suddenly breaking into smaller heaps, and +scattering here and there in rills, was stirred like parti-coloured sand. + +What a bright noon it was, as we rode away! The Tiber was no longer +yellow, but blue. There was a blush on the old bridges, that made them +fresh and hale again. The Pantheon, with its majestic front, all seamed +and furrowed like an old face, had summer light upon its battered walls. +Every squalid and desolate hut in the Eternal City (bear witness every +grim old palace, to the filth and misery of the plebeian neighbour that +elbows it, as certain as Time has laid its grip on its patrician head!) +was fresh and new with some ray of the sun. The very prison in the +crowded street, a whirl of carriages and people, had some stray sense of +the day, dropping through its chinks and crevices: and dismal prisoners +who could not wind their faces round the barricading of the blocked-up +windows, stretched out their hands, and clinging to the rusty bars, +turned _them_ towards the overflowing street: as if it were a cheerful +fire, and could be shared in, that way. + +But, when the night came on, without a cloud to dim the full moon, what a +sight it was to see the Great Square full once more, and the whole +church, from the cross to the ground, lighted with innumerable lanterns, +tracing out the architecture, and winking and shining all round the +colonnade of the piazza! And what a sense of exultation, joy, delight, +it was, when the great bell struck half-past seven—on the instant—to +behold one bright red mass of fire, soar gallantly from the top of the +cupola to the extremest summit of the cross, and the moment it leaped +into its place, become the signal of a bursting out of countless lights, +as great, and red, and blazing as itself, from every part of the gigantic +church; so that every cornice, capital, and smallest ornament of stone, +expressed itself in fire: and the black, solid groundwork of the enormous +dome seemed to grow transparent as an egg-shell! + +A train of gunpowder, an electric chain—nothing could be fired, more +suddenly and swiftly, than this second illumination; and when we had got +away, and gone upon a distant height, and looked towards it two hours +afterwards, there it still stood, shining and glittering in the calm +night like a jewel! Not a line of its proportions wanting; not an angle +blunted; not an atom of its radiance lost. + +The next night—Easter Monday—there was a great display of fireworks from +the Castle of St. Angelo. We hired a room in an opposite house, and made +our way, to our places, in good time, through a dense mob of people +choking up the square in front, and all the avenues leading to it; and so +loading the bridge by which the castle is approached, that it seemed +ready to sink into the rapid Tiber below. There are statues on this +bridge (execrable works), and, among them, great vessels full of burning +tow were placed: glaring strangely on the faces of the crowd, and not +less strangely on the stone counterfeits above them. + +The show began with a tremendous discharge of cannon; and then, for +twenty minutes or half an hour, the whole castle was one incessant sheet +of fire, and labyrinth of blazing wheels of every colour, size, and +speed: while rockets streamed into the sky, not by ones or twos, or +scores, but hundreds at a time. The concluding burst—the Girandola—was +like the blowing up into the air of the whole massive castle, without +smoke or dust. + +In half an hour afterwards, the immense concourse had dispersed; the moon +was looking calmly down upon her wrinkled image in the river; and +half-a-dozen men and boys, with bits of lighted candle in their hands: +moving here and there, in search of anything worth having, that might +have been dropped in the press: had the whole scene to themselves. + +By way of contrast we rode out into old ruined Rome, after all this +firing and booming, to take our leave of the Coliseum. I had seen it by +moonlight before (I could never get through a day without going back to +it), but its tremendous solitude that night is past all telling. The +ghostly pillars in the Forum; the Triumphal Arches of Old Emperors; those +enormous masses of ruins which were once their palaces; the grass-grown +mounds that mark the graves of ruined temples; the stones of the Via +Sacra, smooth with the tread of feet in ancient Rome; even these were +dimmed, in their transcendent melancholy, by the dark ghost of its bloody +holidays, erect and grim; haunting the old scene; despoiled by pillaging +Popes and fighting Princes, but not laid; wringing wild hands of weed, +and grass, and bramble; and lamenting to the night in every gap and +broken arch—the shadow of its awful self, immovable! + +As we lay down on the grass of the Campagna, next day, on our way to +Florence, hearing the larks sing, we saw that a little wooden cross had +been erected on the spot where the poor Pilgrim Countess was murdered. +So, we piled some loose stones about it, as the beginning of a mound to +her memory, and wondered if we should ever rest there again, and look +back at Rome. + + + + +A RAPID DIORAMA + + +WE are bound for Naples! And we cross the threshold of the Eternal City +at yonder gate, the Gate of San Giovanni Laterano, where the two last +objects that attract the notice of a departing visitor, and the two first +objects that attract the notice of an arriving one, are a proud church +and a decaying ruin—good emblems of Rome. + +Our way lies over the Campagna, which looks more solemn on a bright blue +day like this, than beneath a darker sky; the great extent of ruin being +plainer to the eye: and the sunshine through the arches of the broken +aqueducts, showing other broken arches shining through them in the +melancholy distance. When we have traversed it, and look back from +Albano, its dark, undulating surface lies below us like a stagnant lake, +or like a broad, dull Lethe flowing round the walls of Rome, and +separating it from all the world! How often have the Legions, in +triumphant march, gone glittering across that purple waste, so silent and +unpeopled now! How often has the train of captives looked, with sinking +hearts, upon the distant city, and beheld its population pouring out, to +hail the return of their conqueror! What riot, sensuality and murder, +have run mad in the vast palaces now heaps of brick and shattered marble! +What glare of fires, and roar of popular tumult, and wail of pestilence +and famine, have come sweeping over the wild plain where nothing is now +heard but the wind, and where the solitary lizards gambol unmolested in +the sun! + +The train of wine-carts going into Rome, each driven by a shaggy peasant +reclining beneath a little gipsy-fashioned canopy of sheep-skin, is ended +now, and we go toiling up into a higher country where there are trees. +The next day brings us on the Pontine Marshes, wearily flat and lonesome, +and overgrown with brushwood, and swamped with water, but with a fine +road made across them, shaded by a long, long avenue. Here and there, we +pass a solitary guard-house; here and there a hovel, deserted, and walled +up. Some herdsmen loiter on the banks of the stream beside the road, and +sometimes a flat-bottomed boat, towed by a man, comes rippling idly along +it. A horseman passes occasionally, carrying a long gun cross-wise on +the saddle before him, and attended by fierce dogs; but there is nothing +else astir save the wind and the shadows, until we come in sight of +Terracina. + +How blue and bright the sea, rolling below the windows of the inn so +famous in robber stories! How picturesque the great crags and points of +rock overhanging to-morrow’s narrow road, where galley-slaves are working +in the quarries above, and the sentinels who guard them lounge on the +sea-shore! All night there is the murmur of the sea beneath the stars; +and, in the morning, just at daybreak, the prospect suddenly becoming +expanded, as if by a miracle, reveals—in the far distance, across the sea +there!—Naples with its islands, and Vesuvius spouting fire! Within a +quarter of an hour, the whole is gone as if it were a vision in the +clouds, and there is nothing but the sea and sky. + +The Neapolitan frontier crossed, after two hours’ travelling; and the +hungriest of soldiers and custom-house officers with difficulty appeased; +we enter, by a gateless portal, into the first Neapolitan town—Fondi. +Take note of Fondi, in the name of all that is wretched and beggarly. + +A filthy channel of mud and refuse meanders down the centre of the +miserable streets, fed by obscene rivulets that trickle from the abject +houses. There is not a door, a window, or a shutter; not a roof, a wall, +a post, or a pillar, in all Fondi, but is decayed, and crazy, and rotting +away. The wretched history of the town, with all its sieges and pillages +by Barbarossa and the rest, might have been acted last year. How the +gaunt dogs that sneak about the miserable streets, come to be alive, and +undevoured by the people, is one of the enigmas of the world. + +A hollow-cheeked and scowling people they are! All beggars; but that’s +nothing. Look at them as they gather round. Some, are too indolent to +come down-stairs, or are too wisely mistrustful of the stairs, perhaps, +to venture: so stretch out their lean hands from upper windows, and howl; +others, come flocking about us, fighting and jostling one another, and +demanding, incessantly, charity for the love of God, charity for the love +of the Blessed Virgin, charity for the love of all the Saints. A group +of miserable children, almost naked, screaming forth the same petition, +discover that they can see themselves reflected in the varnish of the +carriage, and begin to dance and make grimaces, that they may have the +pleasure of seeing their antics repeated in this mirror. A crippled +idiot, in the act of striking one of them who drowns his clamorous demand +for charity, observes his angry counterpart in the panel, stops short, +and thrusting out his tongue, begins to wag his head and chatter. The +shrill cry raised at this, awakens half-a-dozen wild creatures wrapped in +frowsy brown cloaks, who are lying on the church-steps with pots and pans +for sale. These, scrambling up, approach, and beg defiantly. ‘I am +hungry. Give me something. Listen to me, Signor. I am hungry!’ Then, +a ghastly old woman, fearful of being too late, comes hobbling down the +street, stretching out one hand, and scratching herself all the way with +the other, and screaming, long before she can be heard, ‘Charity, +charity! I’ll go and pray for you directly, beautiful lady, if you’ll +give me charity!’ Lastly, the members of a brotherhood for burying the +dead: hideously masked, and attired in shabby black robes, white at the +skirts, with the splashes of many muddy winters: escorted by a dirty +priest, and a congenial cross-bearer: come hurrying past. Surrounded by +this motley concourse, we move out of Fondi: bad bright eyes glaring at +us, out of the darkness of every crazy tenement, like glistening +fragments of its filth and putrefaction. + +A noble mountain-pass, with the ruins of a fort on a strong eminence, +traditionally called the Fort of Fra Diavolo; the old town of Itrí, like +a device in pastry, built up, almost perpendicularly, on a hill, and +approached by long steep flights of steps; beautiful Mola di Gaëta, whose +wines, like those of Albano, have degenerated since the days of Horace, +or his taste for wine was bad: which is not likely of one who enjoyed it +so much, and extolled it so well; another night upon the road at St. +Agatha; a rest next day at Capua, which is picturesque, but hardly so +seductive to a traveller now, as the soldiers of Prætorian Rome were wont +to find the ancient city of that name; a flat road among vines festooned +and looped from tree to tree; and Mount Vesuvius close at hand at +last!—its cone and summit whitened with snow; and its smoke hanging over +it, in the heavy atmosphere of the day, like a dense cloud. So we go, +rattling down hill, into Naples. + +A funeral is coming up the street, towards us. The body, on an open +bier, borne on a kind of palanquin, covered with a gay cloth of crimson +and gold. The mourners, in white gowns and masks. If there be death +abroad, life is well represented too, for all Naples would seem to be out +of doors, and tearing to and fro in carriages. Some of these, the common +Vetturíno vehicles, are drawn by three horses abreast, decked with smart +trappings and great abundance of brazen ornament, and always going very +fast. Not that their loads are light; for the smallest of them has at +least six people inside, four in front, four or five more hanging on +behind, and two or three more, in a net or bag below the axle-tree, where +they lie half-suffocated with mud and dust. Exhibitors of Punch, buffo +singers with guitars, reciters of poetry, reciters of stories, a row of +cheap exhibitions with clowns and showmen, drums, and trumpets, painted +cloths representing the wonders within, and admiring crowds assembled +without, assist the whirl and bustle. Ragged lazzaroni lie asleep in +doorways, archways, and kennels; the gentry, gaily dressed, are dashing +up and down in carriages on the Chiaji, or walking in the Public Gardens; +and quiet letter-writers, perched behind their little desks and inkstands +under the Portico of the Great Theatre of San Carlo, in the public +street, are waiting for clients. + +Here is a galley-slave in chains, who wants a letter written to a friend. +He approaches a clerkly-looking man, sitting under the corner arch, and +makes his bargain. He has obtained permission of the sentinel who guards +him: who stands near, leaning against the wall and cracking nuts. The +galley-slave dictates in the ear of the letter-writer, what he desires to +say; and as he can’t read writing, looks intently in his face, to read +there whether he sets down faithfully what he is told. After a time, the +galley-slave becomes discursive—incoherent. The secretary pauses and +rubs his chin. The galley-slave is voluble and energetic. The +secretary, at length, catches the idea, and with the air of a man who +knows how to word it, sets it down; stopping, now and then, to glance +back at his text admiringly. The galley-slave is silent. The soldier +stoically cracks his nuts. Is there anything more to say? inquires the +letter-writer. No more. Then listen, friend of mine. He reads it +through. The galley-slave is quite enchanted. It is folded, and +addressed, and given to him, and he pays the fee. The secretary falls +back indolently in his chair, and takes a book. The galley-slave gathers +up an empty sack. The sentinel throws away a handful of nut-shells, +shoulders his musket, and away they go together. + +Why do the beggars rap their chins constantly, with their right hands, +when you look at them? Everything is done in pantomime in Naples, and +that is the conventional sign for hunger. A man who is quarrelling with +another, yonder, lays the palm of his right hand on the back of his left, +and shakes the two thumbs—expressive of a donkey’s ears—whereat his +adversary is goaded to desperation. Two people bargaining for fish, the +buyer empties an imaginary waistcoat pocket when he is told the price, +and walks away without a word: having thoroughly conveyed to the seller +that he considers it too dear. Two people in carriages, meeting, one +touches his lips, twice or thrice, holding up the five fingers of his +right hand, and gives a horizontal cut in the air with the palm. The +other nods briskly, and goes his way. He has been invited to a friendly +dinner at half-past five o’clock, and will certainly come. + +All over Italy, a peculiar shake of the right hand from the wrist, with +the forefinger stretched out, expresses a negative—the only negative +beggars will ever understand. But, in Naples, those five fingers are a +copious language. + +All this, and every other kind of out-door life and stir, and +macaroni-eating at sunset, and flower-selling all day long, and begging +and stealing everywhere and at all hours, you see upon the bright +sea-shore, where the waves of the bay sparkle merrily. But, lovers and +hunters of the picturesque, let us not keep too studiously out of view +the miserable depravity, degradation, and wretchedness, with which this +gay Neapolitan life is inseparably associated! It is not well to find +Saint Giles’s so repulsive, and the Porta Capuana so attractive. A pair +of naked legs and a ragged red scarf, do not make _all_ the difference +between what is interesting and what is coarse and odious? Painting and +poetising for ever, if you will, the beauties of this most beautiful and +lovely spot of earth, let us, as our duty, try to associate a new +picturesque with some faint recognition of man’s destiny and +capabilities; more hopeful, I believe, among the ice and snow of the +North Pole, than in the sun and bloom of Naples. + +Capri—once made odious by the deified beast Tiberius—Ischia, Procida, and +the thousand distant beauties of the Bay, lie in the blue sea yonder, +changing in the mist and sunshine twenty times a-day: now close at hand, +now far off, now unseen. The fairest country in the world, is spread +about us. Whether we turn towards the Miseno shore of the splendid +watery amphitheatre, and go by the Grotto of Posilipo to the Grotto del +Cane and away to Baiæ: or take the other way, towards Vesuvius and +Sorrento, it is one succession of delights. In the last-named direction, +where, over doors and archways, there are countless little images of San +Gennaro, with his Canute’s hand stretched out, to check the fury of the +Burning Mountain, we are carried pleasantly, by a railroad on the +beautiful Sea Beach, past the town of Torre del Greco, built upon the +ashes of the former town destroyed by an eruption of Vesuvius, within a +hundred years; and past the flat-roofed houses, granaries, and macaroni +manufactories; to Castel-a-Mare, with its ruined castle, now inhabited by +fishermen, standing in the sea upon a heap of rocks. Here, the railroad +terminates; but, hence we may ride on, by an unbroken succession of +enchanting bays, and beautiful scenery, sloping from the highest summit +of Saint Angelo, the highest neighbouring mountain, down to the water’s +edge—among vineyards, olive-trees, gardens of oranges and lemons, +orchards, heaped-up rocks, green gorges in the hills—and by the bases of +snow-covered heights, and through small towns with handsome, dark-haired +women at the doors—and pass delicious summer villas—to Sorrento, where +the Poet Tasso drew his inspiration from the beauty surrounding him. +Returning, we may climb the heights above Castel-a-Mare, and looking down +among the boughs and leaves, see the crisp water glistening in the sun; +and clusters of white houses in distant Naples, dwindling, in the great +extent of prospect, down to dice. The coming back to the city, by the +beach again, at sunset: with the glowing sea on one side, and the +darkening mountain, with its smoke and flame, upon the other: is a +sublime conclusion to the glory of the day. + +That church by the Porta Capuana—near the old fisher-market in the +dirtiest quarter of dirty Naples, where the revolt of Masaniello began—is +memorable for having been the scene of one of his earliest proclamations +to the people, and is particularly remarkable for nothing else, unless it +be its waxen and bejewelled Saint in a glass case, with two odd hands; or +the enormous number of beggars who are constantly rapping their chins +there, like a battery of castanets. The cathedral with the beautiful +door, and the columns of African and Egyptian granite that once +ornamented the temple of Apollo, contains the famous sacred blood of San +Gennaro or Januarius: which is preserved in two phials in a silver +tabernacle, and miraculously liquefies three times a-year, to the great +admiration of the people. At the same moment, the stone (distant some +miles) where the Saint suffered martyrdom, becomes faintly red. It is +said that the officiating priests turn faintly red also, sometimes, when +these miracles occur. + +The old, old men who live in hovels at the entrance of these ancient +catacombs, and who, in their age and infirmity, seem waiting here, to be +buried themselves, are members of a curious body, called the Royal +Hospital, who are the official attendants at funerals. Two of these old +spectres totter away, with lighted tapers, to show the caverns of +death—as unconcerned as if they were immortal. They were used as +burying-places for three hundred years; and, in one part, is a large pit +full of skulls and bones, said to be the sad remains of a great mortality +occasioned by a plague. In the rest there is nothing but dust. They +consist, chiefly, of great wide corridors and labyrinths, hewn out of the +rock. At the end of some of these long passages, are unexpected glimpses +of the daylight, shining down from above. It looks as ghastly and as +strange; among the torches, and the dust, and the dark vaults: as if it, +too, were dead and buried. + +The present burial-place lies out yonder, on a hill between the city and +Vesuvius. The old Campo Santo with its three hundred and sixty-five +pits, is only used for those who die in hospitals, and prisons, and are +unclaimed by their friends. The graceful new cemetery, at no great +distance from it, though yet unfinished, has already many graves among +its shrubs and flowers, and airy colonnades. It might be reasonably +objected elsewhere, that some of the tombs are meretricious and too +fanciful; but the general brightness seems to justify it here; and Mount +Vesuvius, separated from them by a lovely slope of ground, exalts and +saddens the scene. + +If it be solemn to behold from this new City of the Dead, with its dark +smoke hanging in the clear sky, how much more awful and impressive is it, +viewed from the ghostly ruins of Herculaneum and Pompeii! + +Stand at the bottom of the great market-place of Pompeii, and look up the +silent streets, through the ruined temples of Jupiter and Isis, over the +broken houses with their inmost sanctuaries open to the day, away to +Mount Vesuvius, bright and snowy in the peaceful distance; and lose all +count of time, and heed of other things, in the strange and melancholy +sensation of seeing the Destroyed and the Destroyer making this quiet +picture in the sun. Then, ramble on, and see, at every turn, the little +familiar tokens of human habitation and every-day pursuits; the chafing +of the bucket-rope in the stone rim of the exhausted well; the track of +carriage-wheels in the pavement of the street; the marks of +drinking-vessels on the stone counter of the wine-shop; the amphoræ in +private cellars, stored away so many hundred years ago, and undisturbed +to this hour—all rendering the solitude and deadly lonesomeness of the +place, ten thousand times more solemn, than if the volcano, in its fury, +had swept the city from the earth, and sunk it in the bottom of the sea. + +After it was shaken by the earthquake which preceded the eruption, +workmen were employed in shaping out, in stone, new ornaments for temples +and other buildings that had suffered. Here lies their work, outside the +city gate, as if they would return to-morrow. + +In the cellar of Diomede’s house, where certain skeletons were found +huddled together, close to the door, the impression of their bodies on +the ashes, hardened with the ashes, and became stamped and fixed there, +after they had shrunk, inside, to scanty bones. So, in the theatre of +Herculaneum, a comic mask, floating on the stream when it was hot and +liquid, stamped its mimic features in it as it hardened into stone; and +now, it turns upon the stranger the fantastic look it turned upon the +audiences in that same theatre two thousand years ago. + +Next to the wonder of going up and down the streets, and in and out of +the houses, and traversing the secret chambers of the temples of a +religion that has vanished from the earth, and finding so many fresh +traces of remote antiquity: as if the course of Time had been stopped +after this desolation, and there had been no nights and days, months, +years, and centuries, since: nothing is more impressive and terrible than +the many evidences of the searching nature of the ashes, as bespeaking +their irresistible power, and the impossibility of escaping them. In the +wine-cellars, they forced their way into the earthen vessels: displacing +the wine and choking them, to the brim, with dust. In the tombs, they +forced the ashes of the dead from the funeral urns, and rained new ruin +even into them. The mouths, and eyes, and skulls of all the skeletons, +were stuffed with this terrible hail. In Herculaneum, where the flood +was of a different and a heavier kind, it rolled in, like a sea. Imagine +a deluge of water turned to marble, at its height—and that is what is +called ‘the lava’ here. + +Some workmen were digging the gloomy well on the brink of which we now +stand, looking down, when they came on some of the stone benches of the +theatre—those steps (for such they seem) at the bottom of the +excavation—and found the buried city of Herculaneum. Presently going +down, with lighted torches, we are perplexed by great walls of monstrous +thickness, rising up between the benches, shutting out the stage, +obtruding their shapeless forms in absurd places, confusing the whole +plan, and making it a disordered dream. We cannot, at first, believe, or +picture to ourselves, that THIS came rolling in, and drowned the city; +and that all that is not here, has been cut away, by the axe, like solid +stone. But this perceived and understood, the horror and oppression of +its presence are indescribable. + +Many of the paintings on the walls in the roofless chambers of both +cities, or carefully removed to the museum at Naples, are as fresh and +plain, as if they had been executed yesterday. Here are subjects of +still life, as provisions, dead game, bottles, glasses, and the like; +familiar classical stories, or mythological fables, always forcibly and +plainly told; conceits of cupids, quarrelling, sporting, working at +trades; theatrical rehearsals; poets reading their productions to their +friends; inscriptions chalked upon the walls; political squibs, +advertisements, rough drawings by schoolboys; everything to people and +restore the ancient cities, in the fancy of their wondering visitor. +Furniture, too, you see, of every kind—lamps, tables, couches; vessels +for eating, drinking, and cooking; workmen’s tools, surgical instruments, +tickets for the theatre, pieces of money, personal ornaments, bunches of +keys found clenched in the grasp of skeletons, helmets of guards and +warriors; little household bells, yet musical with their old domestic +tones. + +The least among these objects, lends its aid to swell the interest of +Vesuvius, and invest it with a perfect fascination. The looking, from +either ruined city, into the neighbouring grounds overgrown with +beautiful vines and luxuriant trees; and remembering that house upon +house, temple on temple, building after building, and street after +street, are still lying underneath the roots of all the quiet +cultivation, waiting to be turned up to the light of day; is something so +wonderful, so full of mystery, so captivating to the imagination, that +one would think it would be paramount, and yield to nothing else. To +nothing but Vesuvius; but the mountain is the genius of the scene. From +every indication of the ruin it has worked, we look, again, with an +absorbing interest to where its smoke is rising up into the sky. It is +beyond us, as we thread the ruined streets: above us, as we stand upon +the ruined walls, we follow it through every vista of broken columns, as +we wander through the empty court-yards of the houses; and through the +garlandings and interlacings of every wanton vine. Turning away to +Pæstum yonder, to see the awful structures built, the least aged of them, +hundreds of years before the birth of Christ, and standing yet, erect in +lonely majesty, upon the wild, malaria-blighted plain—we watch Vesuvius +as it disappears from the prospect, and watch for it again, on our +return, with the same thrill of interest: as the doom and destiny of all +this beautiful country, biding its terrible time. + +It is very warm in the sun, on this early spring-day, when we return from +Pæstum, but very cold in the shade: insomuch, that although we may lunch, +pleasantly, at noon, in the open air, by the gate of Pompeii, the +neighbouring rivulet supplies thick ice for our wine. But, the sun is +shining brightly; there is not a cloud or speck of vapour in the whole +blue sky, looking down upon the bay of Naples; and the moon will be at +the full to-night. No matter that the snow and ice lie thick upon the +summit of Vesuvius, or that we have been on foot all day at Pompeii, or +that croakers maintain that strangers should not be on the mountain by +night, in such an unusual season. Let us take advantage of the fine +weather; make the best of our way to Resina, the little village at the +foot of the mountain; prepare ourselves, as well as we can, on so short a +notice, at the guide’s house; ascend at once, and have sunset half-way +up, moonlight at the top, and midnight to come down in! + +At four o’clock in the afternoon, there is a terrible uproar in the +little stable-yard of Signior Salvatore, the recognised head-guide, with +the gold band round his cap; and thirty under-guides who are all +scuffling and screaming at once, are preparing half-a-dozen saddled +ponies, three litters, and some stout staves, for the journey. Every one +of the thirty, quarrels with the other twenty-nine, and frightens the six +ponies; and as much of the village as can possibly squeeze itself into +the little stable-yard, participates in the tumult, and gets trodden on +by the cattle. + +After much violent skirmishing, and more noise than would suffice for the +storming of Naples, the procession starts. The head-guide, who is +liberally paid for all the attendants, rides a little in advance of the +party; the other thirty guides proceed on foot. Eight go forward with +the litters that are to be used by-and-by; and the remaining +two-and-twenty beg. + +We ascend, gradually, by stony lanes like rough broad flights of stairs, +for some time. At length, we leave these, and the vineyards on either +side of them, and emerge upon a bleak bare region where the lava lies +confusedly, in enormous rusty masses; as if the earth had been ploughed +up by burning thunderbolts. And now, we halt to see the sun set. The +change that falls upon the dreary region, and on the whole mountain, as +its red light fades, and the night comes on—and the unutterable solemnity +and dreariness that reign around, who that has witnessed it, can ever +forget! + +It is dark, when after winding, for some time, over the broken ground, we +arrive at the foot of the cone: which is extremely steep, and seems to +rise, almost perpendicularly, from the spot where we dismount. The only +light is reflected from the snow, deep, hard, and white, with which the +cone is covered. It is now intensely cold, and the air is piercing. The +thirty-one have brought no torches, knowing that the moon will rise +before we reach the top. Two of the litters are devoted to the two +ladies; the third, to a rather heavy gentleman from Naples, whose +hospitality and good-nature have attached him to the expedition, and +determined him to assist in doing the honours of the mountain. The +rather heavy gentleman is carried by fifteen men; each of the ladies by +half-a-dozen. We who walk, make the best use of our staves; and so the +whole party begin to labour upward over the snow,—as if they were toiling +to the summit of an antediluvian Twelfth-cake. + +We are a long time toiling up; and the head-guide looks oddly about him +when one of the company—not an Italian, though an habitué of the mountain +for many years: whom we will call, for our present purpose, Mr. Pickle of +Portici—suggests that, as it is freezing hard, and the usual footing of +ashes is covered by the snow and ice, it will surely be difficult to +descend. But the sight of the litters above, tilting up and down, and +jerking from this side to that, as the bearers continually slip and +tumble, diverts our attention; more especially as the whole length of the +rather heavy gentleman is, at that moment, presented to us alarmingly +foreshortened, with his head downwards. + +The rising of the moon soon afterwards, revives the flagging spirits of +the bearers. Stimulating each other with their usual watchword, +‘Courage, friend! It is to eat macaroni!’ they press on, gallantly, for +the summit. + +From tingeing the top of the snow above us, with a band of light, and +pouring it in a stream through the valley below, while we have been +ascending in the dark, the moon soon lights the whole white +mountain-side, and the broad sea down below, and tiny Naples in the +distance, and every village in the country round. The whole prospect is +in this lovely state, when we come upon the platform on the +mountain-top—the region of Fire—an exhausted crater formed of great +masses of gigantic cinders, like blocks of stone from some tremendous +waterfall, burnt up; from every chink and crevice of which, hot, +sulphurous smoke is pouring out: while, from another conical-shaped hill, +the present crater, rising abruptly from this platform at the end, great +sheets of fire are streaming forth: reddening the night with flame, +blackening it with smoke, and spotting it with red-hot stones and +cinders, that fly up into the air like feathers, and fall down like lead. +What words can paint the gloom and grandeur of this scene! + +The broken ground; the smoke; the sense of suffocation from the sulphur: +the fear of falling down through the crevices in the yawning ground; the +stopping, every now and then, for somebody who is missing in the dark +(for the dense smoke now obscures the moon); the intolerable noise of the +thirty; and the hoarse roaring of the mountain; make it a scene of such +confusion, at the same time, that we reel again. But, dragging the +ladies through it, and across another exhausted crater to the foot of the +present Volcano, we approach close to it on the windy side, and then sit +down among the hot ashes at its foot, and look up in silence; faintly +estimating the action that is going on within, from its being full a +hundred feet higher, at this minute, than it was six weeks ago. + +There is something in the fire and roar, that generates an irresistible +desire to get nearer to it. We cannot rest long, without starting off, +two of us, on our hands and knees, accompanied by the head-guide, to +climb to the brim of the flaming crater, and try to look in. Meanwhile, +the thirty yell, as with one voice, that it is a dangerous proceeding, +and call to us to come back; frightening the rest of the party out of +their wits. + +What with their noise, and what with the trembling of the thin crust of +ground, that seems about to open underneath our feet and plunge us in the +burning gulf below (which is the real danger, if there be any); and what +with the flashing of the fire in our faces, and the shower of red-hot +ashes that is raining down, and the choking smoke and sulphur; we may +well feel giddy and irrational, like drunken men. But, we contrive to +climb up to the brim, and look down, for a moment, into the Hell of +boiling fire below. Then, we all three come rolling down; blackened, and +singed, and scorched, and hot, and giddy: and each with his dress alight +in half-a-dozen places. + +You have read, a thousand times, that the usual way of descending, is, by +sliding down the ashes: which, forming a gradually-increasing ledge below +the feet, prevent too rapid a descent. But, when we have crossed the two +exhausted craters on our way back and are come to this precipitous place, +there is (as Mr. Pickle has foretold) no vestige of ashes to be seen; the +whole being a smooth sheet of ice. + +In this dilemma, ten or a dozen of the guides cautiously join hands, and +make a chain of men; of whom the foremost beat, as well as they can, a +rough track with their sticks, down which we prepare to follow. The way +being fearfully steep, and none of the party: even of the thirty: being +able to keep their feet for six paces together, the ladies are taken out +of their litters, and placed, each between two careful persons; while +others of the thirty hold by their skirts, to prevent their falling +forward—a necessary precaution, tending to the immediate and hopeless +dilapidation of their apparel. The rather heavy gentleman is abjured to +leave his litter too, and be escorted in a similar manner; but he +resolves to be brought down as he was brought up, on the principle that +his fifteen bearers are not likely to tumble all at once, and that he is +safer so, than trusting to his own legs. + +In this order, we begin the descent: sometimes on foot, sometimes +shuffling on the ice: always proceeding much more quietly and slowly, +than on our upward way: and constantly alarmed by the falling among us of +somebody from behind, who endangers the footing of the whole party, and +clings pertinaciously to anybody’s ankles. It is impossible for the +litter to be in advance, too, as the track has to be made; and its +appearance behind us, overhead—with some one or other of the bearers +always down, and the rather heavy gentleman with his legs always in the +air—is very threatening and frightful. We have gone on thus, a very +little way, painfully and anxiously, but quite merrily, and regarding it +as a great success—and have all fallen several times, and have all been +stopped, somehow or other, as we were sliding away—when Mr. Pickle of +Portici, in the act of remarking on these uncommon circumstances as quite +beyond his experience, stumbles, falls, disengages himself, with quick +presence of mind, from those about him, plunges away head foremost, and +rolls, over and over, down the whole surface of the cone! + +Sickening as it is to look, and be so powerless to help him, I see him +there, in the moonlight—I have had such a dream often—skimming over the +white ice, like a cannon-ball. Almost at the same moment, there is a cry +from behind; and a man who has carried a light basket of spare cloaks on +his head, comes rolling past, at the same frightful speed, closely +followed by a boy. At this climax of the chapter of accidents, the +remaining eight-and-twenty vociferate to that degree, that a pack of +wolves would be music to them! + +Giddy, and bloody, and a mere bundle of rags, is Pickle of Portici when +we reach the place where we dismounted, and where the horses are waiting; +but, thank God, sound in limb! And never are we likely to be more glad +to see a man alive and on his feet, than to see him now—making light of +it too, though sorely bruised and in great pain. The boy is brought into +the Hermitage on the Mountain, while we are at supper, with his head tied +up; and the man is heard of, some hours afterwards. He too is bruised +and stunned, but has broken no bones; the snow having, fortunately, +covered all the larger blocks of rock and stone, and rendered them +harmless. + +After a cheerful meal, and a good rest before a blazing fire, we again +take horse, and continue our descent to Salvatore’s house—very slowly, by +reason of our bruised friend being hardly able to keep the saddle, or +endure the pain of motion. Though it is so late at night, or early in +the morning, all the people of the village are waiting about the little +stable-yard when we arrive, and looking up the road by which we are +expected. Our appearance is hailed with a great clamour of tongues, and +a general sensation for which in our modesty we are somewhat at a loss to +account, until, turning into the yard, we find that one of a party of +French gentlemen who were on the mountain at the same time is lying on +some straw in the stable, with a broken limb: looking like Death, and +suffering great torture; and that we were confidently supposed to have +encountered some worse accident. + +So ‘well returned, and Heaven be praised!’ as the cheerful Vetturíno, who +has borne us company all the way from Pisa, says, with all his heart! +And away with his ready horses, into sleeping Naples! + +It wakes again to Policinelli and pickpockets, buffo singers and beggars, +rags, puppets, flowers, brightness, dirt, and universal degradation; +airing its Harlequin suit in the sunshine, next day and every day; +singing, starving, dancing, gaming, on the sea-shore; and leaving all +labour to the burning mountain, which is ever at its work. + +Our English dilettanti would be very pathetic on the subject of the +national taste, if they could hear an Italian opera half as badly sung in +England as we may hear the Foscari performed, to-night, in the splendid +theatre of San Carlo. But, for astonishing truth and spirit in seizing +and embodying the real life about it, the shabby little San Carlino +Theatre—the rickety house one story high, with a staring picture outside: +down among the drums and trumpets, and the tumblers, and the lady +conjurer—is without a rival anywhere. + +There is one extraordinary feature in the real life of Naples, at which +we may take a glance before we go—the Lotteries. + +They prevail in most parts of Italy, but are particularly obvious, in +their effects and influences, here. They are drawn every Saturday. They +bring an immense revenue to the Government; and diffuse a taste for +gambling among the poorest of the poor, which is very comfortable to the +coffers of the State, and very ruinous to themselves. The lowest stake +is one grain; less than a farthing. One hundred numbers—from one to a +hundred, inclusive—are put into a box. Five are drawn. Those are the +prizes. I buy three numbers. If one of them come up, I win a small +prize. If two, some hundreds of times my stake. If three, three +thousand five hundred times my stake. I stake (or play as they call it) +what I can upon my numbers, and buy what numbers I please. The amount I +play, I pay at the lottery office, where I purchase the ticket; and it is +stated on the ticket itself. + +Every lottery office keeps a printed book, an Universal Lottery Diviner, +where every possible accident and circumstance is provided for, and has a +number against it. For instance, let us take two carlini—about +sevenpence. On our way to the lottery office, we run against a black +man. When we get there, we say gravely, ‘The Diviner.’ It is handed +over the counter, as a serious matter of business. We look at black man. +Such a number. ‘Give us that.’ We look at running against a person in +the street. ‘Give us that.’ We look at the name of the street itself. +‘Give us that.’ Now, we have our three numbers. + +If the roof of the theatre of San Carlo were to fall in, so many people +would play upon the numbers attached to such an accident in the Diviner, +that the Government would soon close those numbers, and decline to run +the risk of losing any more upon them. This often happens. Not long +ago, when there was a fire in the King’s Palace, there was such a +desperate run on fire, and king, and palace, that further stakes on the +numbers attached to those words in the Golden Book were forbidden. Every +accident or event, is supposed, by the ignorant populace, to be a +revelation to the beholder, or party concerned, in connection with the +lottery. Certain people who have a talent for dreaming fortunately, are +much sought after; and there are some priests who are constantly favoured +with visions of the lucky numbers. + +I heard of a horse running away with a man, and dashing him down, dead, +at the corner of a street. Pursuing the horse with incredible speed, was +another man, who ran so fast, that he came up, immediately after the +accident. He threw himself upon his knees beside the unfortunate rider, +and clasped his hand with an expression of the wildest grief. ‘If you +have life,’ he said, ‘speak one word to me! If you have one gasp of +breath left, mention your age for Heaven’s sake, that I may play that +number in the lottery.’ + +It is four o’clock in the afternoon, and we may go to see our lottery +drawn. The ceremony takes place every Saturday, in the Tribunale, or +Court of Justice—this singular, earthy-smelling room, or gallery, as +mouldy as an old cellar, and as damp as a dungeon. At the upper end is a +platform, with a large horse-shoe table upon it; and a President and +Council sitting round—all judges of the Law. The man on the little stool +behind the President, is the Capo Lazzarone, a kind of tribune of the +people, appointed on their behalf to see that all is fairly conducted: +attended by a few personal friends. A ragged, swarthy fellow he is: with +long matted hair hanging down all over his face: and covered, from head +to foot, with most unquestionably genuine dirt. All the body of the room +is filled with the commonest of the Neapolitan people: and between them +and the platform, guarding the steps leading to the latter, is a small +body of soldiers. + +There is some delay in the arrival of the necessary number of judges; +during which, the box, in which the numbers are being placed, is a source +of the deepest interest. When the box is full, the boy who is to draw +the numbers out of it becomes the prominent feature of the proceedings. +He is already dressed for his part, in a tight brown Holland coat, with +only one (the left) sleeve to it, which leaves his right arm bared to the +shoulder, ready for plunging down into the mysterious chest. + +During the hush and whisper that pervade the room, all eyes are turned on +this young minister of fortune. People begin to inquire his age, with a +view to the next lottery; and the number of his brothers and sisters; and +the age of his father and mother; and whether he has any moles or pimples +upon him; and where, and how many; when the arrival of the last judge but +one (a little old man, universally dreaded as possessing the Evil Eye) +makes a slight diversion, and would occasion a greater one, but that he +is immediately deposed, as a source of interest, by the officiating +priest, who advances gravely to his place, followed by a very dirty +little boy, carrying his sacred vestments, and a pot of Holy Water. + +Here is the last judge come at last, and now he takes his place at the +horse-shoe table. + +There is a murmur of irrepressible agitation. In the midst of it, the +priest puts his head into the sacred vestments, and pulls the same over +his shoulders. Then he says a silent prayer; and dipping a brush into +the pot of Holy Water, sprinkles it over the box—and over the boy, and +gives them a double-barrelled blessing, which the box and the boy are +both hoisted on the table to receive. The boy remaining on the table, +the box is now carried round the front of the platform, by an attendant, +who holds it up and shakes it lustily all the time; seeming to say, like +the conjurer, ‘There is no deception, ladies and gentlemen; keep your +eyes upon me, if you please!’ + +At last, the box is set before the boy; and the boy, first holding up his +naked arm and open hand, dives down into the hole (it is made like a +ballot-box) and pulls out a number, which is rolled up, round something +hard, like a bonbon. This he hands to the judge next him, who unrolls a +little bit, and hands it to the President, next to whom he sits. The +President unrolls it, very slowly. The Capo Lazzarone leans over his +shoulder. The President holds it up, unrolled, to the Capo Lazzarone. +The Capo Lazzarone, looking at it eagerly, cries out, in a shrill, loud +voice, ‘Sessantadue!’ (sixty-two), expressing the two upon his fingers, +as he calls it out. Alas! the Capo Lazzarone himself has not staked on +sixty-two. His face is very long, and his eyes roll wildly. + +As it happens to be a favourite number, however, it is pretty well +received, which is not always the case. They are all drawn with the same +ceremony, omitting the blessing. One blessing is enough for the whole +multiplication-table. The only new incident in the proceedings, is the +gradually deepening intensity of the change in the Cape Lazzarone, who +has, evidently, speculated to the very utmost extent of his means; and +who, when he sees the last number, and finds that it is not one of his, +clasps his hands, and raises his eyes to the ceiling before proclaiming +it, as though remonstrating, in a secret agony, with his patron saint, +for having committed so gross a breach of confidence. I hope the Capo +Lazzarone may not desert him for some other member of the Calendar, but +he seems to threaten it. + +Where the winners may be, nobody knows. They certainly are not present; +the general disappointment filling one with pity for the poor people. +They look: when we stand aside, observing them, in their passage through +the court-yard down below: as miserable as the prisoners in the gaol (it +forms a part of the building), who are peeping down upon them, from +between their bars; or, as the fragments of human heads which are still +dangling in chains outside, in memory of the good old times, when their +owners were strung up there, for the popular edification. + +Away from Naples in a glorious sunrise, by the road to Capua, and then on +a three days’ journey along by-roads, that we may see, on the way, the +monastery of Monte Cassino, which is perched on the steep and lofty hill +above the little town of San Germano, and is lost on a misty morning in +the clouds. + +So much the better, for the deep sounding of its bell, which, as we go +winding up, on mules, towards the convent, is heard mysteriously in the +still air, while nothing is seen but the grey mist, moving solemnly and +slowly, like a funeral procession. Behold, at length the shadowy pile of +building close before us: its grey walls and towers dimly seen, though so +near and so vast: and the raw vapour rolling through its cloisters +heavily. + +There are two black shadows walking to and fro in the quadrangle, near +the statues of the Patron Saint and his sister; and hopping on behind +them, in and out of the old arches, is a raven, croaking in answer to the +bell, and uttering, at intervals, the purest Tuscan. How like a Jesuit +he looks! There never was a sly and stealthy fellow so at home as is +this raven, standing now at the refectory door, with his head on one +side, and pretending to glance another way, while he is scrutinizing the +visitors keenly, and listening with fixed attention. What a dull-headed +monk the porter becomes in comparison! + +‘He speaks like us!’ says the porter: ‘quite as plainly.’ Quite as +plainly, Porter. Nothing could be more expressive than his reception of +the peasants who are entering the gate with baskets and burdens. There +is a roll in his eye, and a chuckle in his throat, which should qualify +him to be chosen Superior of an Order of Ravens. He knows all about it. +‘It’s all right,’ he says. ‘We know what we know. Come along, good +people. Glad to see you!’ How was this extraordinary structure ever +built in such a situation, where the labour of conveying the stone, and +iron, and marble, so great a height, must have been prodigious? ‘Caw!’ +says the raven, welcoming the peasants. How, being despoiled by plunder, +fire and earthquake, has it risen from its ruins, and been again made +what we now see it, with its church so sumptuous and magnificent? ‘Caw!’ +says the raven, welcoming the peasants. These people have a miserable +appearance, and (as usual) are densely ignorant, and all beg, while the +monks are chaunting in the chapel. ‘Caw!’ says the raven, ‘Cuckoo!’ + +So we leave him, chuckling and rolling his eye at the convent gate, and +wind slowly down again through the cloud. At last emerging from it, we +come in sight of the village far below, and the flat green country +intersected by rivulets; which is pleasant and fresh to see after the +obscurity and haze of the convent—no disrespect to the raven, or the holy +friars. + +Away we go again, by muddy roads, and through the most shattered and +tattered of villages, where there is not a whole window among all the +houses, or a whole garment among all the peasants, or the least +appearance of anything to eat, in any of the wretched hucksters’ shops. +The women wear a bright red bodice laced before and behind, a white +skirt, and the Neapolitan head-dress of square folds of linen, +primitively meant to carry loads on. The men and children wear anything +they can get. The soldiers are as dirty and rapacious as the dogs. The +inns are such hobgoblin places, that they are infinitely more attractive +and amusing than the best hotels in Paris. Here is one near Valmontone +(that is Valmontone the round, walled town on the mount opposite), which +is approached by a quagmire almost knee-deep. There is a wild colonnade +below, and a dark yard full of empty stables and lofts, and a great long +kitchen with a great long bench and a great long form, where a party of +travellers, with two priests among them, are crowding round the fire +while their supper is cooking. Above stairs, is a rough brick gallery to +sit in, with very little windows with very small patches of knotty glass +in them, and all the doors that open from it (a dozen or two) off their +hinges, and a bare board on tressels for a table, at which thirty people +might dine easily, and a fireplace large enough in itself for a +breakfast-parlour, where, as the faggots blaze and crackle, they +illuminate the ugliest and grimmest of faces, drawn in charcoal on the +whitewashed chimney-sides by previous travellers. There is a flaring +country lamp on the table; and, hovering about it, scratching her thick +black hair continually, a yellow dwarf of a woman, who stands on tiptoe +to arrange the hatchet knives, and takes a flying leap to look into the +water-jug. The beds in the adjoining rooms are of the liveliest kind. +There is not a solitary scrap of looking-glass in the house, and the +washing apparatus is identical with the cooking utensils. But the yellow +dwarf sets on the table a good flask of excellent wine, holding a quart +at least; and produces, among half-a-dozen other dishes, two-thirds of a +roasted kid, smoking hot. She is as good-humoured, too, as dirty, which +is saying a great deal. So here’s long life to her, in the flask of +wine, and prosperity to the establishment. + +Rome gained and left behind, and with it the Pilgrims who are now +repairing to their own homes again—each with his scallop shell and staff, +and soliciting alms for the love of God—we come, by a fair country, to +the Falls of Terni, where the whole Velino river dashes, headlong, from a +rocky height, amidst shining spray and rainbows. Perugia, strongly +fortified by art and nature, on a lofty eminence, rising abruptly from +the plain where purple mountains mingle with the distant sky, is glowing, +on its market-day, with radiant colours. They set off its sombre but +rich Gothic buildings admirably. The pavement of its market-place is +strewn with country goods. All along the steep hill leading from the +town, under the town wall, there is a noisy fair of calves, lambs, pigs, +horses, mules, and oxen. Fowls, geese, and turkeys, flutter vigorously +among their very hoofs; and buyers, sellers, and spectators, clustering +everywhere, block up the road as we come shouting down upon them. + +Suddenly, there is a ringing sound among our horses. The driver stops +them. Sinking in his saddle, and casting up his eyes to Heaven, he +delivers this apostrophe, ‘Oh Jove Omnipotent! here is a horse has lost +his shoe!’ + +Notwithstanding the tremendous nature of this accident, and the utterly +forlorn look and gesture (impossible in any one but an Italian Vetturíno) +with which it is announced, it is not long in being repaired by a mortal +Farrier, by whose assistance we reach Castiglione the same night, and +Arezzo next day. Mass is, of course, performing in its fine cathedral, +where the sun shines in among the clustered pillars, through rich +stained-glass windows: half revealing, half concealing the kneeling +figures on the pavement, and striking out paths of spotted light in the +long aisles. + +But, how much beauty of another kind is here, when, on a fair clear +morning, we look, from the summit of a hill, on Florence! See where it +lies before us in a sun-lighted valley, bright with the winding Arno, and +shut in by swelling hills; its domes, and towers, and palaces, rising +from the rich country in a glittering heap, and shining in the sun like +gold! + +Magnificently stern and sombre are the streets of beautiful Florence; and +the strong old piles of building make such heaps of shadow, on the ground +and in the river, that there is another and a different city of rich +forms and fancies, always lying at our feet. Prodigious palaces, +constructed for defence, with small distrustful windows heavily barred, +and walls of great thickness formed of huge masses of rough stone, frown, +in their old sulky state, on every street. In the midst of the city—in +the Piazza of the Grand Duke, adorned with beautiful statues and the +Fountain of Neptune—rises the Palazzo Vecchio, with its enormous +overhanging battlements, and the Great Tower that watches over the whole +town. In its court-yard—worthy of the Castle of Otranto in its ponderous +gloom—is a massive staircase that the heaviest waggon and the stoutest +team of horses might be driven up. Within it, is a Great Saloon, faded +and tarnished in its stately decorations, and mouldering by grains, but +recording yet, in pictures on its walls, the triumphs of the Medici and +the wars of the old Florentine people. The prison is hard by, in an +adjacent court-yard of the building—a foul and dismal place, where some +men are shut up close, in small cells like ovens; and where others look +through bars and beg; where some are playing draughts, and some are +talking to their friends, who smoke, the while, to purify the air; and +some are buying wine and fruit of women-vendors; and all are squalid, +dirty, and vile to look at. ‘They are merry enough, Signore,’ says the +jailer. ‘They are all blood-stained here,’ he adds, indicating, with his +hand, three-fourths of the whole building. Before the hour is out, an +old man, eighty years of age, quarrelling over a bargain with a young +girl of seventeen, stabs her dead, in the market-place full of bright +flowers; and is brought in prisoner, to swell the number. + +Among the four old bridges that span the river, the Ponte Vecchio—that +bridge which is covered with the shops of Jewellers and Goldsmiths—is a +most enchanting feature in the scene. The space of one house, in the +centre, being left open, the view beyond is shown as in a frame; and that +precious glimpse of sky, and water, and rich buildings, shining so +quietly among the huddled roofs and gables on the bridge, is exquisite. +Above it, the Gallery of the Grand Duke crosses the river. It was built +to connect the two Great Palaces by a secret passage; and it takes its +jealous course among the streets and houses, with true despotism: going +where it lists, and spurning every obstacle away, before it. + +The Grand Duke has a worthier secret passage through the streets, in his +black robe and hood, as a member of the Compagnia della Misericordia, +which brotherhood includes all ranks of men. If an accident take place, +their office is, to raise the sufferer, and bear him tenderly to the +Hospital. If a fire break out, it is one of their functions to repair to +the spot, and render their assistance and protection. It is, also, among +their commonest offices, to attend and console the sick; and they neither +receive money, nor eat, nor drink, in any house they visit for this +purpose. Those who are on duty for the time, are all called together, on +a moment’s notice, by the tolling of the great bell of the Tower; and it +is said that the Grand Duke has been seen, at this sound, to rise from +his seat at table, and quietly withdraw to attend the summons. + +In this other large Piazza, where an irregular kind of market is held, +and stores of old iron and other small merchandise are set out on stalls, +or scattered on the pavement, are grouped together, the Cathedral with +its great Dome, the beautiful Italian Gothic Tower the Campanile, and the +Baptistery with its wrought bronze doors. And here, a small untrodden +square in the pavement, is ‘the Stone of DANTE,’ where (so runs the +story) he was used to bring his stool, and sit in contemplation. I +wonder was he ever, in his bitter exile, withheld from cursing the very +stones in the streets of Florence the ungrateful, by any kind remembrance +of this old musing-place, and its association with gentle thoughts of +little Beatrice! + +The chapel of the Medici, the Good and Bad Angels, of Florence; the +church of Santa Croce where Michael Angelo lies buried, and where every +stone in the cloisters is eloquent on great men’s deaths; innumerable +churches, often masses of unfinished heavy brickwork externally, but +solemn and serene within; arrest our lingering steps, in strolling +through the city. + +In keeping with the tombs among the cloisters, is the Museum of Natural +History, famous through the world for its preparations in wax; beginning +with models of leaves, seeds, plants, inferior animals; and gradually +ascending, through separate organs of the human frame, up to the whole +structure of that wonderful creation, exquisitely presented, as in recent +death. Few admonitions of our frail mortality can be more solemn and +more sad, or strike so home upon the heart, as the counterfeits of Youth +and Beauty that are lying there, upon their beds, in their last sleep. + +Beyond the walls, the whole sweet Valley of the Arno, the convent at +Fiesole, the Tower of Galileo, BOCCACCIO’S house, old villas and +retreats; innumerable spots of interest, all glowing in a landscape of +surpassing beauty steeped in the richest light; are spread before us. +Returning from so much brightness, how solemn and how grand the streets +again, with their great, dark, mournful palaces, and many legends: not of +siege, and war, and might, and Iron Hand alone, but of the triumphant +growth of peaceful Arts and Sciences. + +What light is shed upon the world, at this day, from amidst these rugged +Palaces of Florence! Here, open to all comers, in their beautiful and +calm retreats, the ancient Sculptors are immortal, side by side with +Michael Angelo, Canova, Titian, Rembrandt, Raphael, Poets, Historians, +Philosophers—those illustrious men of history, beside whom its crowned +heads and harnessed warriors show so poor and small, and are so soon +forgotten. Here, the imperishable part of noble minds survives, placid +and equal, when strongholds of assault and defence are overthrown; when +the tyranny of the many, or the few, or both, is but a tale; when Pride +and Power are so much cloistered dust. The fire within the stern +streets, and among the massive Palaces and Towers, kindled by rays from +Heaven, is still burning brightly, when the flickering of war is +extinguished and the household fires of generations have decayed; as +thousands upon thousands of faces, rigid with the strife and passion of +the hour, have faded out of the old Squares and public haunts, while the +nameless Florentine Lady, preserved from oblivion by a Painter’s hand, +yet lives on, in enduring grace and youth. + +Let us look back on Florence while we may, and when its shining Dome is +seen no more, go travelling through cheerful Tuscany, with a bright +remembrance of it; for Italy will be the fairer for the recollection. +The summer-time being come: and Genoa, and Milan, and the Lake of Como +lying far behind us: and we resting at Faido, a Swiss village, near the +awful rocks and mountains, the everlasting snows and roaring cataracts, +of the Great Saint Gothard: hearing the Italian tongue for the last time +on this journey: let us part from Italy, with all its miseries and +wrongs, affectionately, in our admiration of the beauties, natural and +artificial, of which it is full to overflowing, and in our tenderness +towards a people, naturally well-disposed, and patient, and +sweet-tempered. Years of neglect, oppression, and misrule, have been at +work, to change their nature and reduce their spirit; miserable +jealousies, fomented by petty Princes to whom union was destruction, and +division strength, have been a canker at their root of nationality, and +have barbarized their language; but the good that was in them ever, is in +them yet, and a noble people may be, one day, raised up from these ashes. +Let us entertain that hope! And let us not remember Italy the less +regardfully, because, in every fragment of her fallen Temples, and every +stone of her deserted palaces and prisons, she helps to inculcate the +lesson that the wheel of Time is rolling for an end, and that the world +is, in all great essentials, better, gentler, more forbearing, and more +hopeful, as it rolls! + + * * * * * + + THE END + + * * * * * + + PRINTED BY + WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, + LONDON AND BECCLES. + + + + +FOOTNOTES + + +{1} This Project Gutenberg eText contains just _Pictures from Italy_. +_American Notes_ is also available from Project Gutenberg as a separate +eText.—DP. + +{216} This was written in 1846. + +{272} A far more liberal and just recognition of the public has arisen +in Westminster Abbey since this was written. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PICTURES FROM ITALY*** + + +******* This file should be named 650-0.txt or 650-0.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/5/650 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at + www.gutenberg.org/license. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 +North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email +contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the +Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/650-0.zip b/650-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e17b770 --- /dev/null +++ b/650-0.zip diff --git a/650-h.zip b/650-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6e99262 --- /dev/null +++ b/650-h.zip diff --git a/650-h/650-h.htm b/650-h/650-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a541cbc --- /dev/null +++ b/650-h/650-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7872 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>Pictures from Italy, by Charles Dickens</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + P.gutsumm { margin-left: 5%;} + P.poetry {margin-left: 3%; } + .GutSmall { font-size: 0.7em; } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } +table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-weight: normal; + color: gray; + } + img { border: none; } + img.dc { float: left; width: 50px; height: 50px; } + p.gutindent { margin-left: 2em; } + div.gapspace { height: 0.8em; } + div.gapline { height: 0.8em; width: 100%; border-top: 1px solid;} + div.gapmediumline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + div.gapmediumdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; + margin-left: 40%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid; } + div.gapdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 50%; + margin-left: 25%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; margin-left:40%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + img.floatleft { float: left; + margin-right: 1em; + margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.floatright { float: right; + margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.clearcenter {display: block; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em} + --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Pictures from Italy, by Charles Dickens, +Illustrated by Marcus Stone + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Pictures from Italy + + +Author: Charles Dickens + + + +Release Date: February 17, 2013 [eBook #650] +[This file was first posted on September 17, 1996] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PICTURES FROM ITALY*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the 1913 Chapman & Hall, Ltd. edition by +David Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<h1>AMERICAN NOTES<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">FOR</span><br /> +GENERAL CIRCULATION <a name="citation1"></a><a href="#footnote1" +class="citation">[1]</a><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">AND</span><br /> +PICTURES FROM ITALY</h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">BY</span><br +/> +CHARLES DICKENS</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">WITH 8 +ILLUSTRATIONS BY</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">MARCUS STONE, R.A.</span></p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">LONDON</span><br /> +CHAPMAN & HALL, <span class="smcap">Ltd.</span><br /> +1913</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p>The Reader’s Passport</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page215">215</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Going through France</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page218">218</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Lyons, the Rhone, and the Goblin of Avignon</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page225">225</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Avignon to Genoa</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page233">233</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Genoa and its Neighbourhood</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page238">238</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>To Parma, Modena, and Bologna</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page264">264</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Through Bologna and Ferrara</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page272">272</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>An Italian Dream</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page277">277</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>By Verona, Mantua, and Milan, across the Pass of the +Simplon into Switzerland</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page284">284</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>To Rome by Pisa and Siena</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page297">297</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Rome</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page308">308</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>A Rapid Diorama</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page345">345</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Civil and Military</span></p> +</td> +<td><p><i>Marcus Stone</i>, <i>R.A.</i></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page218">218</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">Italian Peasants</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center">,, ,, ,,</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page250">250</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">The Chiffonier</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center">,, ,, ,,</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page294">294</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><span class="smcap">In the Catacombs</span></p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: center">,, ,, ,,</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page326">326</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2><a name="page215"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 215</span>THE +READER’S PASSPORT</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">If</span> the readers of this volume will +be so kind as to take their credentials for the different places +which are the subject of its author’s reminiscences, from +the Author himself, perhaps they may visit them, in fancy, the +more agreeably, and with a better understanding of what they are +to expect.</p> +<p>Many books have been written upon Italy, affording many means +of studying the history of that interesting country, and the +innumerable associations entwined about it. I make but +little reference to that stock of information; not at all +regarding it as a necessary consequence of my having had recourse +to the storehouse for my own benefit, that I should reproduce its +easily accessible contents before the eyes of my readers.</p> +<p>Neither will there be found, in these pages, any grave +examination into the government or misgovernment of any portion +of the country. No visitor of that beautiful land can fail +to have a strong conviction on the subject; but as I chose when +residing there, a Foreigner, to abstain from the discussion of +any such questions with any order of Italians, so I would rather +not enter on the inquiry now. During my twelve +months’ occupation of a house at Genoa, I never found that +authorities constitutionally jealous were distrustful of me; and +I should be sorry to give them occasion to regret their free +courtesy, either to myself or any of my countrymen.</p> +<p>There is, probably, not a famous Picture or Statue in all +Italy, but could be easily buried under a mountain of printed +paper devoted to dissertations on it. I do not, therefore, +though an earnest admirer of Painting and Sculpture, expatiate at +any length on famous Pictures and Statues.</p> +<p>This Book is a series of faint reflections—mere shadows +in the water—of places to which the imaginations of most +people are attracted in a greater or less degree, on which mine +had dwelt for years, and which have some interest for all. +The greater part of the descriptions were written on the spot, +and sent home, from time to time, in private letters. I do +not mention the circumstance as an excuse for any defects they +may present, for it would be none; but as a guarantee to the +Reader that they were at least penned in the fulness of the +subject, and with the liveliest impressions of novelty and +freshness.</p> +<p>If they have ever a fanciful and idle air, perhaps the reader +will suppose them written in the shade of a Sunny Day, in the +midst of the objects of which they treat, and will like them none +the worse for having such influences of the country upon +them.</p> +<p>I hope I am not likely to be misunderstood by Professors of +the Roman Catholic faith, on account of anything contained in +these pages. I have done my best, in one of my former +productions, to do justice to them; and I trust, in this, they +will do justice to me. When I mention any exhibition that +impressed me as absurd or disagreeable, I do not seek to connect +it, or recognise it as necessarily connected with, any essentials +of their creed. When I treat of the ceremonies of the Holy +Week, I merely treat of their effect, and do not challenge the +good and learned Dr. Wiseman’s interpretation of their +meaning. When I hint a dislike of nunneries for young girls +who abjure the world before they have ever proved or known it; or +doubt the <i>ex officio</i> sanctity of all Priests and Friars; I +do no more than many conscientious Catholics both abroad and at +home.</p> +<p>I have likened these Pictures to shadows in the water, and +would fain hope that I have, nowhere, stirred the water so +roughly, as to mar the shadows. I could never desire to be +on better terms with all my friends than now, when distant +mountains rise, once more, in my path. For I need not +hesitate to avow, that, bent on correcting a brief mistake I +made, not long ago, in disturbing the old relations between +myself and my readers, and departing for a moment from my old +pursuits, I am about to resume them, joyfully, in Switzerland; +where during another year of absence, I can at once work out the +themes I have now in my mind, without interruption: and while I +keep my English audience within speaking distance, extend my +knowledge of a noble country, inexpressibly attractive to me. <a +name="citation216"></a><a href="#footnote216" +class="citation">[216]</a></p> +<p>This book is made as accessible as possible, because it would +be a great pleasure to me if I could hope, through its means, to +compare impressions with some among the multitudes who will +hereafter visit the scenes described with interest and +delight.</p> +<p>And I have only now, in passport wise, to sketch my +reader’s portrait, which I hope may be thus +supposititiously traced for either sex:</p> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p>Complexion</p> +</td> +<td><p>Fair.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Eyes</p> +</td> +<td><p>Very cheerful.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Nose</p> +</td> +<td><p>Not supercilious.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Mouth</p> +</td> +<td><p>Smiling.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Visage</p> +</td> +<td><p>Beaming.</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>General Expression</p> +</td> +<td><p>Extremely agreeable.</p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2><a name="page218"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +218</span>GOING THROUGH FRANCE</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">On</span> a fine Sunday morning in the +Midsummer time and weather of eighteen hundred and forty-four, it +was, my good friend, when—don’t be alarmed; not when +two travellers might have been observed slowly making their way +over that picturesque and broken ground by which the first +chapter of a Middle Aged novel is usually attained—but when +an English travelling-carriage of considerable proportions, fresh +from the shady halls of the Pantechnicon near Belgrave Square, +London, was observed (by a very small French soldier; for I saw +him look at it) to issue from the gate of the Hôtel Meurice +in the Rue Rivoli at Paris.</p> +<p>I am no more bound to explain why the English family +travelling by this carriage, inside and out, should be starting +for Italy on a Sunday morning, of all good days in the week, than +I am to assign a reason for all the little men in France being +soldiers, and all the big men postilions; which is the invariable +rule. But, they had some sort of reason for what they did, +I have no doubt; and their reason for being there at all, was, as +you know, that they were going to live in fair Genoa for a year; +and that the head of the family purposed, in that space of time, +to stroll about, wherever his restless humour carried him.</p> +<p>And it would have been small comfort to me to have explained +to the population of Paris generally, that I was that Head and +Chief; and not the radiant embodiment of good humour who sat +beside me in the person of a French Courier—best of +servants and most beaming of men! Truth to say, he looked a +great deal more patriarchal than I, who, in the shadow of his +portly presence, dwindled down to no account at all.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p218b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Civil and military" +title= +"Civil and military" +src="images/p218s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>There was, of course, very little in the aspect of +Paris—as we rattled near the dismal Morgue and over the +Pont Neuf—to reproach us for our Sunday travelling. +The wine-shops (every second house) were driving a roaring trade; +awnings were spreading, and chairs and tables arranging, outside +the cafés, preparatory to the eating of ices, and drinking +of cool liquids, later in the day; shoe-blacks were busy on the +bridges; shops were open; carts and waggons clattered to and fro; +the narrow, up-hill, funnel-like streets across the River, were +so many dense perspectives of crowd and bustle, parti-coloured +nightcaps, tobacco-pipes, blouses, large boots, and shaggy heads +of hair; nothing at that hour denoted a day of rest, unless it +were the appearance, here and there, of a family pleasure-party, +crammed into a bulky old lumbering cab; or of some contemplative +holiday-maker in the freest and easiest dishabille, leaning out +of a low garret window, watching the drying of his newly polished +shoes on the little parapet outside (if a gentleman), or the +airing of her stockings in the sun (if a lady), with calm +anticipation.</p> +<p>Once clear of the never-to-be-forgotten-or-forgiven pavement +which surrounds Paris, the first three days of travelling towards +Marseilles are quiet and monotonous enough. To Sens. +To Avallon. To Chalons. A sketch of one day’s +proceedings is a sketch of all three; and here it is.</p> +<p>We have four horses, and one postilion, who has a very long +whip, and drives his team, something like the Courier of Saint +Petersburgh in the circle at Astley’s or Franconi’s: +only he sits his own horse instead of standing on him. The +immense jack-boots worn by these postilions, are sometimes a +century or two old; and are so ludicrously disproportionate to +the wearer’s foot, that the spur, which is put where his +own heel comes, is generally halfway up the leg of the +boots. The man often comes out of the stable-yard, with his +whip in his hand and his shoes on, and brings out, in both hands, +one boot at a time, which he plants on the ground by the side of +his horse, with great gravity, until everything is ready. +When it is—and oh Heaven! the noise they make about +it!—he gets into the boots, shoes and all, or is hoisted +into them by a couple of friends; adjusts the rope harness, +embossed by the labours of innumerable pigeons in the stables; +makes all the horses kick and plunge; cracks his whip like a +madman; shouts ‘En route—Hi!’ and away we +go. He is sure to have a contest with his horse before we +have gone very far; and then he calls him a Thief, and a Brigand, +and a Pig, and what not; and beats him about the head as if he +were made of wood.</p> +<p>There is little more than one variety in the appearance of the +country, for the first two days. From a dreary plain, to an +interminable avenue, and from an interminable avenue to a dreary +plain again. Plenty of vines there are in the open fields, +but of a short low kind, and not trained in festoons, but about +straight sticks. Beggars innumerable there are, everywhere; +but an extraordinarily scanty population, and fewer children than +I ever encountered. I don’t believe we saw a hundred +children between Paris and Chalons. Queer old towns, +draw-bridged and walled: with odd little towers at the angles, +like grotesque faces, as if the wall had put a mask on, and were +staring down into the moat; other strange little towers, in +gardens and fields, and down lanes, and in farm-yards: all alone, +and always round, with a peaked roof, and never used for any +purpose at all; ruinous buildings of all sorts; sometimes an +hôtel de ville, sometimes a guard-house, sometimes a +dwelling-house, sometimes a château with a rank garden, +prolific in dandelion, and watched over by extinguisher-topped +turrets, and blink-eyed little casements; are the standard +objects, repeated over and over again. Sometimes we pass a +village inn, with a crumbling wall belonging to it, and a perfect +town of out-houses; and painted over the gateway, ‘Stabling +for Sixty Horses;’ as indeed there might be stabling for +sixty score, were there any horses to be stabled there, or +anybody resting there, or anything stirring about the place but a +dangling bush, indicative of the wine inside: which flutters idly +in the wind, in lazy keeping with everything else, and certainly +is never in a green old age, though always so old as to be +dropping to pieces. And all day long, strange little narrow +waggons, in strings of six or eight, bringing cheese from +Switzerland, and frequently in charge, the whole line, of one +man, or even boy—and he very often asleep in the foremost +cart—come jingling past: the horses drowsily ringing the +bells upon their harness, and looking as if they thought (no +doubt they do) their great blue woolly furniture, of immense +weight and thickness, with a pair of grotesque horns growing out +of the collar, very much too warm for the Midsummer weather.</p> +<p>Then, there is the Diligence, twice or thrice a-day; with the +dusty outsides in blue frocks, like butchers; and the insides in +white nightcaps; and its cabriolet head on the roof, nodding and +shaking, like an idiot’s head; and its Young-France +passengers staring out of window, with beards down to their +waists, and blue spectacles awfully shading their warlike eyes, +and very big sticks clenched in their National grasp. Also +the Malle Poste, with only a couple of passengers, tearing along +at a real good dare-devil pace, and out of sight in no +time. Steady old Curés come jolting past, now and +then, in such ramshackle, rusty, musty, clattering coaches as no +Englishman would believe in; and bony women dawdle about in +solitary places, holding cows by ropes while they feed, or +digging and hoeing or doing field-work of a more laborious kind, +or representing real shepherdesses with their flocks—to +obtain an adequate idea of which pursuit and its followers, in +any country, it is only necessary to take any pastoral poem, or +picture, and imagine to yourself whatever is most exquisitely and +widely unlike the descriptions therein contained.</p> +<p>You have been travelling along, stupidly enough, as you +generally do in the last stage of the day; and the ninety-six +bells upon the horses—twenty-four apiece—have been +ringing sleepily in your ears for half an hour or so; and it has +become a very jog-trot, monotonous, tiresome sort of business; +and you have been thinking deeply about the dinner you will have +at the next stage; when, down at the end of the long avenue of +trees through which you are travelling, the first indication of a +town appears, in the shape of some straggling cottages: and the +carriage begins to rattle and roll over a horribly uneven +pavement. As if the equipage were a great firework, and the +mere sight of a smoking cottage chimney had lighted it, instantly +it begins to crack and splutter, as if the very devil were in +it. Crack, crack, crack, crack. +Crack-crack-crack. Crick-crack. Crick-crack. +Helo! Hola! Vite! Voleur! Brigand! +Hi hi hi! En r-r-r-r-r-route! Whip, wheels, driver, +stones, beggars, children, crack, crack, crack; helo! hola! +charité pour l’amour de Dieu! +crick-crack-crick-crack; crick, crick, crick; bump, jolt, crack, +bump, crick-crack; round the corner, up the narrow street, down +the paved hill on the other side; in the gutter; bump, bump; +jolt, jog, crick, crick, crick; crack, crack, crack; into the +shop-windows on the left-hand side of the street, preliminary to +a sweeping turn into the wooden archway on the right; rumble, +rumble, rumble; clatter, clatter, clatter; crick, crick, crick; +and here we are in the yard of the Hôtel de l’Ecu +d’Or; used up, gone out, smoking, spent, exhausted; but +sometimes making a false start unexpectedly, with nothing coming +of it—like a firework to the last!</p> +<p>The landlady of the Hôtel de l’Ecu d’Or is +here; and the landlord of the Hôtel de l’Ecu +d’Or is here; and the femme de chambre of the Hôtel +de l’Ecu d’Or is here; and a gentleman in a glazed +cap, with a red beard like a bosom friend, who is staying at the +Hôtel de l’Ecu d’Or, is here; and Monsieur le +Curé is walking up and down in a corner of the yard by +himself, with a shovel hat upon his head, and a black gown on his +back, and a book in one hand, and an umbrella in the other; and +everybody, except Monsieur le Curé, is open-mouthed and +open-eyed, for the opening of the carriage-door. The +landlord of the Hôtel de l’Ecu d’Or, dotes to +that extent upon the Courier, that he can hardly wait for his +coming down from the box, but embraces his very legs and +boot-heels as he descends. ‘My Courier! My +brave Courier! My friend! My brother!’ +The landlady loves him, the femme de chambre blesses him, the +garçon worships him. The Courier asks if his letter +has been received? It has, it has. Are the rooms +prepared? They are, they are. The best rooms for my +noble Courier. The rooms of state for my gallant Courier; +the whole house is at the service of my best of friends! He +keeps his hand upon the carriage-door, and asks some other +question to enhance the expectation. He carries a green +leathern purse outside his coat, suspended by a belt. The +idlers look at it; one touches it. It is full of five-franc +pieces. Murmurs of admiration are heard among the +boys. The landlord falls upon the Courier’s neck, and +folds him to his breast. He is so much fatter than he was, +he says! He looks so rosy and so well!</p> +<p>The door is opened. Breathless expectation. The +lady of the family gets out. Ah sweet lady! Beautiful +lady! The sister of the lady of the family gets out. +Great Heaven, Ma’amselle is charming! First little +boy gets out. Ah, what a beautiful little boy! First +little girl gets out. Oh, but this is an enchanting +child! Second little girl gets out. The landlady, +yielding to the finest impulse of our common nature, catches her +up in her arms! Second little boy gets out. Oh, the +sweet boy! Oh, the tender little family! The baby is +handed out. Angelic baby! The baby has topped +everything. All the rapture is expended on the baby! +Then the two nurses tumble out; and the enthusiasm swelling into +madness, the whole family are swept up-stairs as on a cloud; +while the idlers press about the carriage, and look into it, and +walk round it, and touch it. For it is something to touch a +carriage that has held so many people. It is a legacy to +leave one’s children.</p> +<p>The rooms are on the first floor, except the nursery for the +night, which is a great rambling chamber, with four or five beds +in it: through a dark passage, up two steps, down four, past a +pump, across a balcony, and next door to the stable. The +other sleeping apartments are large and lofty; each with two +small bedsteads, tastefully hung, like the windows, with red and +white drapery. The sitting-room is famous. Dinner is +already laid in it for three; and the napkins are folded in +cocked-hat fashion. The floors are of red tile. There +are no carpets, and not much furniture to speak of; but there is +abundance of looking-glass, and there are large vases under glass +shades, filled with artificial flowers; and there are plenty of +clocks. The whole party are in motion. The brave +Courier, in particular, is everywhere: looking after the beds, +having wine poured down his throat by his dear brother the +landlord, and picking up green cucumbers—always cucumbers; +Heaven knows where he gets them—with which he walks about, +one in each hand, like truncheons.</p> +<p>Dinner is announced. There is very thin soup; there are +very large loaves—one apiece; a fish; four dishes +afterwards; some poultry afterwards; a dessert afterwards; and no +lack of wine. There is not much in the dishes; but they are +very good, and always ready instantly. When it is nearly +dark, the brave Courier, having eaten the two cucumbers, sliced +up in the contents of a pretty large decanter of oil, and another +of vinegar, emerges from his retreat below, and proposes a visit +to the Cathedral, whose massive tower frowns down upon the +court-yard of the inn. Off we go; and very solemn and grand +it is, in the dim light: so dim at last, that the polite, old, +lanthorn-jawed Sacristan has a feeble little bit of candle in his +hand, to grope among the tombs with—and looks among the +grim columns, very like a lost ghost who is searching for his +own.</p> +<p>Underneath the balcony, when we return, the inferior servants +of the inn are supping in the open air, at a great table; the +dish, a stew of meat and vegetables, smoking hot, and served in +the iron cauldron it was boiled in. They have a pitcher of +thin wine, and are very merry; merrier than the gentleman with +the red beard, who is playing billiards in the light room on the +left of the yard, where shadows, with cues in their hands, and +cigars in their mouths, cross and recross the window, +constantly. Still the thin Curé walks up and down +alone, with his book and umbrella. And there he walks, and +there the billiard-balls rattle, long after we are fast +asleep.</p> +<p>We are astir at six next morning. It is a delightful +day, shaming yesterday’s mud upon the carriage, if anything +could shame a carriage, in a land where carriages are never +cleaned. Everybody is brisk; and as we finish breakfast, +the horses come jingling into the yard from the Post-house. +Everything taken out of the carriage is put back again. The +brave Courier announces that all is ready, after walking into +every room, and looking all round it, to be certain that nothing +is left behind. Everybody gets in. Everybody +connected with the Hôtel de l’Ecu d’Or is again +enchanted. The brave Courier runs into the house for a +parcel containing cold fowl, sliced ham, bread, and biscuits, for +lunch; hands it into the coach; and runs back again.</p> +<p>What has he got in his hand now? More cucumbers? +No. A long strip of paper. It’s the bill.</p> +<p>The brave Courier has two belts on, this morning: one +supporting the purse: another, a mighty good sort of leathern +bottle, filled to the throat with the best light Bordeaux wine in +the house. He never pays the bill till this bottle is +full. Then he disputes it.</p> +<p>He disputes it now, violently. He is still the +landlord’s brother, but by another father or mother. +He is not so nearly related to him as he was last night. +The landlord scratches his head. The brave Courier points +to certain figures in the bill, and intimates that if they remain +there, the Hôtel de l’Ecu d’Or is thenceforth +and for ever an hôtel de l’Ecu de cuivre. The +landlord goes into a little counting-house. The brave +Courier follows, forces the bill and a pen into his hand, and +talks more rapidly than ever. The landlord takes the +pen. The Courier smiles. The landlord makes an +alteration. The Courier cuts a joke. The landlord is +affectionate, but not weakly so. He bears it like a +man. He shakes hands with his brave brother, but he +don’t hug him. Still, he loves his brother; for he +knows that he will be returning that way, one of these fine days, +with another family, and he foresees that his heart will yearn +towards him again. The brave Courier traverses all round +the carriage once, looks at the drag, inspects the wheels, jumps +up, gives the word, and away we go!</p> +<p>It is market morning. The market is held in the little +square outside in front of the cathedral. It is crowded +with men and women, in blue, in red, in green, in white; with +canvassed stalls; and fluttering merchandise. The country +people are grouped about, with their clean baskets before +them. Here, the lace-sellers; there, the butter and +egg-sellers; there, the fruit-sellers; there, the +shoe-makers. The whole place looks as if it were the stage +of some great theatre, and the curtain had just run up, for a +picturesque ballet. And there is the cathedral to boot: +scene-like: all grim, and swarthy, and mouldering, and cold: just +splashing the pavement in one place with faint purple drops, as +the morning sun, entering by a little window on the eastern side, +struggles through some stained glass panes, on the western.</p> +<p>In five minutes we have passed the iron cross, with a little +ragged kneeling-place of turf before it, in the outskirts of the +town; and are again upon the road.</p> +<h2><a name="page225"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +225</span>LYONS, THE RHONE, AND THE GOBLIN OF AVIGNON</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Chalons</span> is a fair resting-place, in +right of its good inn on the bank of the river, and the little +steamboats, gay with green and red paint, that come and go upon +it: which make up a pleasant and refreshing scene, after the +dusty roads. But, unless you would like to dwell on an +enormous plain, with jagged rows of irregular poplars on it, that +look in the distance like so many combs with broken teeth: and +unless you would like to pass your life without the possibility +of going up-hill, or going up anything but stairs: you would +hardly approve of Chalons as a place of residence.</p> +<p>You would probably like it better, however, than Lyons: which +you may reach, if you will, in one of the before-mentioned +steamboats, in eight hours.</p> +<p>What a city Lyons is! Talk about people feeling, at +certain unlucky times, as if they had tumbled from the +clouds! Here is a whole town that is tumbled, anyhow, out +of the sky; having been first caught up, like other stones that +tumble down from that region, out of fens and barren places, +dismal to behold! The two great streets through which the +two great rivers dash, and all the little streets whose name is +Legion, were scorching, blistering, and sweltering. The +houses, high and vast, dirty to excess, rotten as old cheeses, +and as thickly peopled. All up the hills that hem the city +in, these houses swarm; and the mites inside were lolling out of +the windows, and drying their ragged clothes on poles, and +crawling in and out at the doors, and coming out to pant and gasp +upon the pavement, and creeping in and out among huge piles and +bales of fusty, musty, stifling goods; and living, or rather not +dying till their time should come, in an exhausted +receiver. Every manufacturing town, melted into one, would +hardly convey an impression of Lyons as it presented itself to +me: for all the undrained, unscavengered qualities of a foreign +town, seemed grafted, there, upon the native miseries of a +manufacturing one; and it bears such fruit as I would go some +miles out of my way to avoid encountering again.</p> +<p>In the cool of the evening: or rather in the faded heat of the +day: we went to see the Cathedral, where divers old women, and a +few dogs, were engaged in contemplation. There was no +difference, in point of cleanliness, between its stone pavement +and that of the streets; and there was a wax saint, in a little +box like a berth aboard ship, with a glass front to it, whom +Madame Tussaud would have nothing to say to, on any terms, and +which even Westminster Abbey might be ashamed of. If you +would know all about the architecture of this church, or any +other, its dates, dimensions, endowments, and history, is it not +written in Mr. Murray’s Guide-Book, and may you not read it +there, with thanks to him, as I did!</p> +<p>For this reason, I should abstain from mentioning the curious +clock in Lyons Cathedral, if it were not for a small mistake I +made, in connection with that piece of mechanism. The +keeper of the church was very anxious it should be shown; partly +for the honour of the establishment and the town; and partly, +perhaps, because of his deriving a percentage from the additional +consideration. However that may be, it was set in motion, +and thereupon a host of little doors flew open, and innumerable +little figures staggered out of them, and jerked themselves back +again, with that special unsteadiness of purpose, and hitching in +the gait, which usually attaches to figures that are moved by +clock-work. Meanwhile, the Sacristan stood explaining these +wonders, and pointing them out, severally, with a wand. +There was a centre puppet of the Virgin Mary; and close to her, a +small pigeon-hole, out of which another and a very ill-looking +puppet made one of the most sudden plunges I ever saw +accomplished: instantly flopping back again at sight of her, and +banging his little door violently after him. Taking this to +be emblematic of the victory over Sin and Death, and not at all +unwilling to show that I perfectly understood the subject, in +anticipation of the showman, I rashly said, ‘Aha! The +Evil Spirit. To be sure. He is very soon disposed +of.’ ‘Pardon, Monsieur,’ said the +Sacristan, with a polite motion of his hand towards the little +door, as if introducing somebody—‘The Angel +Gabriel!’</p> +<p>Soon after daybreak next morning, we were steaming down the +Arrowy Rhone, at the rate of twenty miles an hour, in a very +dirty vessel full of merchandise, and with only three or four +other passengers for our companions: among whom, the most +remarkable was a silly, old, meek-faced, garlic-eating, +immeasurably polite Chevalier, with a dirty scrap of red ribbon +hanging at his button-hole, as if he had tied it there to remind +himself of something; as Tom Noddy, in the farce, ties knots in +his pocket-handkerchief.</p> +<p>For the last two days, we had seen great sullen hills, the +first indications of the Alps, lowering in the distance. +Now, we were rushing on beside them: sometimes close beside them: +sometimes with an intervening slope, covered with +vineyards. Villages and small towns hanging in mid-air, +with great woods of olives seen through the light open towers of +their churches, and clouds moving slowly on, upon the steep +acclivity behind them; ruined castles perched on every eminence; +and scattered houses in the clefts and gullies of the hills; made +it very beautiful. The great height of these, too, making +the buildings look so tiny, that they had all the charm of +elegant models; their excessive whiteness, as contrasted with the +brown rocks, or the sombre, deep, dull, heavy green of the +olive-tree; and the puny size, and little slow walk of the +Lilliputian men and women on the bank; made a charming +picture. There were ferries out of number, too; bridges; +the famous Pont d’Esprit, with I don’t know how many +arches; towns where memorable wines are made; Vallence, where +Napoleon studied; and the noble river, bringing at every winding +turn, new beauties into view.</p> +<p>There lay before us, that same afternoon, the broken bridge of +Avignon, and all the city baking in the sun; yet with an +under-done-pie-crust, battlemented wall, that never will be +brown, though it bake for centuries.</p> +<p>The grapes were hanging in clusters in the streets, and the +brilliant Oleander was in full bloom everywhere. The +streets are old and very narrow, but tolerably clean, and shaded +by awnings stretched from house to house. Bright stuffs and +handkerchiefs, curiosities, ancient frames of carved wood, old +chairs, ghostly tables, saints, virgins, angels, and staring +daubs of portraits, being exposed for sale beneath, it was very +quaint and lively. All this was much set off, too, by the +glimpses one caught, through a rusty gate standing ajar, of quiet +sleepy court-yards, having stately old houses within, as silent +as tombs. It was all very like one of the descriptions in +the Arabian Nights. The three one-eyed Calenders might have +knocked at any one of those doors till the street rang again, and +the porter who persisted in asking questions—the man who +had the delicious purchases put into his basket in the +morning—might have opened it quite naturally.</p> +<p>After breakfast next morning, we sallied forth to see the +lions. Such a delicious breeze was blowing in, from the +north, as made the walk delightful: though the pavement-stones, +and stones of the walls and houses, were far too hot to have a +hand laid on them comfortably.</p> +<p>We went, first of all, up a rocky height, to the cathedral: +where Mass was performing to an auditory very like that of Lyons, +namely, several old women, a baby, and a very self-possessed dog, +who had marked out for himself a little course or platform for +exercise, beginning at the altar-rails and ending at the door, up +and down which constitutional walk he trotted, during the +service, as methodically and calmly, as any old gentleman out of +doors.</p> +<p>It is a bare old church, and the paintings in the roof are +sadly defaced by time and damp weather; but the sun was shining +in, splendidly, through the red curtains of the windows, and +glittering on the altar furniture; and it looked as bright and +cheerful as need be.</p> +<p>Going apart, in this church, to see some painting which was +being executed in fresco by a French artist and his pupil, I was +led to observe more closely than I might otherwise have done, a +great number of votive offerings with which the walls of the +different chapels were profusely hung. I will not say +decorated, for they were very roughly and comically got up; most +likely by poor sign-painters, who eke out their living in that +way. They were all little pictures: each representing some +sickness or calamity from which the person placing it there, had +escaped, through the interposition of his or her patron saint, or +of the Madonna; and I may refer to them as good specimens of the +class generally. They are abundant in Italy.</p> +<p>In a grotesque squareness of outline, and impossibility of +perspective, they are not unlike the woodcuts in old books; but +they were oil-paintings, and the artist, like the painter of the +Primrose family, had not been sparing of his colours. In +one, a lady was having a toe amputated—an operation which a +saintly personage had sailed into the room, upon a couch, to +superintend. In another, a lady was lying in bed, tucked up +very tight and prim, and staring with much composure at a tripod, +with a slop-basin on it; the usual form of washing-stand, and the +only piece of furniture, besides the bedstead, in her +chamber. One would never have supposed her to be labouring +under any complaint, beyond the inconvenience of being +miraculously wide awake, if the painter had not hit upon the idea +of putting all her family on their knees in one corner, with +their legs sticking out behind them on the floor, like +boot-trees. Above whom, the Virgin, on a kind of blue +divan, promised to restore the patient. In another case, a +lady was in the very act of being run over, immediately outside +the city walls, by a sort of piano-forte van. But the +Madonna was there again. Whether the supernatural +appearance had startled the horse (a bay griffin), or whether it +was invisible to him, I don’t know; but he was galloping +away, ding dong, without the smallest reverence or +compunction. On every picture ‘Ex voto’ was +painted in yellow capitals in the sky.</p> +<p>Though votive offerings were not unknown in Pagan Temples, and +are evidently among the many compromises made between the false +religion and the true, when the true was in its infancy, I could +wish that all the other compromises were as harmless. +Gratitude and Devotion are Christian qualities; and a grateful, +humble, Christian spirit may dictate the observance.</p> +<p>Hard by the cathedral stands the ancient Palace of the Popes, +of which one portion is now a common jail, and another a noisy +barrack: while gloomy suites of state apartments, shut up and +deserted, mock their own old state and glory, like the embalmed +bodies of kings. But we neither went there, to see state +rooms, nor soldiers’ quarters, nor a common jail, though we +dropped some money into a prisoners’ box outside, whilst +the prisoners, themselves, looked through the iron bars, high up, +and watched us eagerly. We went to see the ruins of the +dreadful rooms in which the Inquisition used to sit.</p> +<p>A little, old, swarthy woman, with a pair of flashing black +eyes,—proof that the world hadn’t conjured down the +devil within her, though it had had between sixty and seventy +years to do it in,—came out of the Barrack Cabaret, of +which she was the keeper, with some large keys in her hands, and +marshalled us the way that we should go. How she told us, +on the way, that she was a Government Officer (<i>concierge du +palais a apostolique</i>), and had been, for I don’t know +how many years; and how she had shown these dungeons to princes; +and how she was the best of dungeon demonstrators; and how she +had resided in the palace from an infant,—had been born +there, if I recollect right,—I needn’t relate. +But such a fierce, little, rapid, sparkling, energetic she-devil +I never beheld. She was alight and flaming, all the +time. Her action was violent in the extreme. She +never spoke, without stopping expressly for the purpose. +She stamped her feet, clutched us by the arms, flung herself into +attitudes, hammered against walls with her keys, for mere +emphasis: now whispered as if the Inquisition were there still: +now shrieked as if she were on the rack herself; and had a +mysterious, hag-like way with her forefinger, when approaching +the remains of some new horror—looking back and walking +stealthily, and making horrible grimaces—that might alone +have qualified her to walk up and down a sick man’s +counterpane, to the exclusion of all other figures, through a +whole fever.</p> +<p>Passing through the court-yard, among groups of idle soldiers, +we turned off by a gate, which this She-Goblin unlocked for our +admission, and locked again behind us: and entered a narrow +court, rendered narrower by fallen stones and heaps of rubbish; +part of it choking up the mouth of a ruined subterranean passage, +that once communicated (or is said to have done so) with another +castle on the opposite bank of the river. Close to this +court-yard is a dungeon—we stood within it, in another +minute—in the dismal tower <i>des oubliettes</i>, where +Rienzi was imprisoned, fastened by an iron chain to the very wall +that stands there now, but shut out from the sky which now looks +down into it. A few steps brought us to the Cachots, in +which the prisoners of the Inquisition were confined for +forty-eight hours after their capture, without food or drink, +that their constancy might be shaken, even before they were +confronted with their gloomy judges. The day has not got in +there yet. They are still small cells, shut in by four +unyielding, close, hard walls; still profoundly dark; still +massively doored and fastened, as of old.</p> +<p>Goblin, looking back as I have described, went softly on, into +a vaulted chamber, now used as a store-room: once the chapel of +the Holy Office. The place where the tribunal sat, was +plain. The platform might have been removed but +yesterday. Conceive the parable of the Good Samaritan +having been painted on the wall of one of these Inquisition +chambers! But it was, and may be traced there yet.</p> +<p>High up in the jealous wall, are niches where the faltering +replies of the accused were heard and noted down. Many of +them had been brought out of the very cell we had just looked +into, so awfully; along the same stone passage. We had +trodden in their very footsteps.</p> +<p>I am gazing round me, with the horror that the place inspires, +when Goblin clutches me by the wrist, and lays, not her skinny +finger, but the handle of a key, upon her lip. She invites +me, with a jerk, to follow her. I do so. She leads me +out into a room adjoining—a rugged room, with a +funnel-shaped, contracting roof, open at the top, to the bright +day. I ask her what it is. She folds her arms, leers +hideously, and stares. I ask again. She glances +round, to see that all the little company are there; sits down +upon a mound of stones; throws up her arms, and yells out, like a +fiend, ‘La Salle de la Question!’</p> +<p>The Chamber of Torture! And the roof was made of that +shape to stifle the victim’s cries! Oh Goblin, +Goblin, let us think of this awhile, in silence. Peace, +Goblin! Sit with your short arms crossed on your short +legs, upon that heap of stones, for only five minutes, and then +flame out again.</p> +<p>Minutes! Seconds are not marked upon the Palace clock, +when, with her eyes flashing fire, Goblin is up, in the middle of +the chamber, describing, with her sunburnt arms, a wheel of heavy +blows. Thus it ran round! cries Goblin. Mash, mash, +mash! An endless routine of heavy hammers. Mash, +mash, mash! upon the sufferer’s limbs. See the stone +trough! says Goblin. For the water torture! Gurgle, +swill, bloat, burst, for the Redeemer’s honour! Suck +the bloody rag, deep down into your unbelieving body, Heretic, at +every breath you draw! And when the executioner plucks it +out, reeking with the smaller mysteries of God’s own Image, +know us for His chosen servants, true believers in the Sermon on +the Mount, elect disciples of Him who never did a miracle but to +heal: who never struck a man with palsy, blindness, deafness, +dumbness, madness, any one affliction of mankind; and never +stretched His blessed hand out, but to give relief and ease!</p> +<p>See! cries Goblin. There the furnace was. There +they made the irons red-hot. Those holes supported the +sharp stake, on which the tortured persons hung poised: dangling +with their whole weight from the roof. ‘But;’ +and Goblin whispers this; ‘Monsieur has heard of this +tower? Yes? Let Monsieur look down, then!’</p> +<p>A cold air, laden with an earthy smell, falls upon the face of +Monsieur; for she has opened, while speaking, a trap-door in the +wall. Monsieur looks in. Downward to the bottom, +upward to the top, of a steep, dark, lofty tower: very dismal, +very dark, very cold. The Executioner of the Inquisition, +says Goblin, edging in her head to look down also, flung those +who were past all further torturing, down here. ‘But +look! does Monsieur see the black stains on the +wall?’ A glance, over his shoulder, at Goblin’s +keen eye, shows Monsieur—and would without the aid of the +directing key—where they are. ‘What are +they?’ ‘Blood!’</p> +<p>In October, 1791, when the Revolution was at its height here, +sixty persons: men and women (‘and priests,’ says +Goblin, ‘priests’): were murdered, and hurled, the +dying and the dead, into this dreadful pit, where a quantity of +quick-lime was tumbled down upon their bodies. Those +ghastly tokens of the massacre were soon no more; but while one +stone of the strong building in which the deed was done, remains +upon another, there they will lie in the memories of men, as +plain to see as the splashing of their blood upon the wall is +now.</p> +<p>Was it a portion of the great scheme of Retribution, that the +cruel deed should be committed in this place! That a part +of the atrocities and monstrous institutions, which had been, for +scores of years, at work, to change men’s nature, should in +its last service, tempt them with the ready means of gratifying +their furious and beastly rage! Should enable them to show +themselves, in the height of their frenzy, no worse than a great, +solemn, legal establishment, in the height of its power! No +worse! Much better. They used the Tower of the +Forgotten, in the name of Liberty—their liberty; an +earth-born creature, nursed in the black mud of the Bastile moats +and dungeons, and necessarily betraying many evidences of its +unwholesome bringing-up—but the Inquisition used it in the +name of Heaven.</p> +<p>Goblin’s finger is lifted; and she steals out again, +into the Chapel of the Holy Office. She stops at a certain +part of the flooring. Her great effect is at hand. +She waits for the rest. She darts at the brave Courier, who +is explaining something; hits him a sounding rap on the hat with +the largest key; and bids him be silent. She assembles us +all, round a little trap-door in the floor, as round a grave.</p> +<p>‘Voilà!’ she darts down at the ring, and +flings the door open with a crash, in her goblin energy, though +it is no light weight. ‘Voilà les +oubliettes! Voilà les oubliettes! +Subterranean! Frightful! Black! Terrible! +Deadly! Les oubliettes de l’Inquisition!’</p> +<p>My blood ran cold, as I looked from Goblin, down into the +vaults, where these forgotten creatures, with recollections of +the world outside: of wives, friends, children, brothers: starved +to death, and made the stones ring with their unavailing +groans. But, the thrill I felt on seeing the accursed wall +below, decayed and broken through, and the sun shining in through +its gaping wounds, was like a sense of victory and triumph. +I felt exalted with the proud delight of living in these +degenerate times, to see it. As if I were the hero of some +high achievement! The light in the doleful vaults was +typical of the light that has streamed in, on all persecution in +God’s name, but which is not yet at its noon! It +cannot look more lovely to a blind man newly restored to sight, +than to a traveller who sees it, calmly and majestically, +treading down the darkness of that Infernal Well.</p> +<h2><a name="page233"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +233</span>AVIGNON TO GENOA</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Goblin</span>, having shown <i>les +oubliettes</i>, felt that her great <i>coup</i> was struck. +She let the door fall with a crash, and stood upon it with her +arms a-kimbo, sniffing prodigiously.</p> +<p>When we left the place, I accompanied her into her house, +under the outer gateway of the fortress, to buy a little history +of the building. Her cabaret, a dark, low room, lighted by +small windows, sunk in the thick wall—in the softened +light, and with its forge-like chimney; its little counter by the +door, with bottles, jars, and glasses on it; its household +implements and scraps of dress against the wall; and a +sober-looking woman (she must have a congenial life of it, with +Goblin,) knitting at the door—looked exactly like a picture +by <span class="smcap">Ostade</span>.</p> +<p>I walked round the building on the outside, in a sort of +dream, and yet with the delightful sense of having awakened from +it, of which the light, down in the vaults, had given me the +assurance. The immense thickness and giddy height of the +walls, the enormous strength of the massive towers, the great +extent of the building, its gigantic proportions, frowning +aspect, and barbarous irregularity, awaken awe and wonder. +The recollection of its opposite old uses: an impregnable +fortress, a luxurious palace, a horrible prison, a place of +torture, the court of the Inquisition: at one and the same time, +a house of feasting, fighting, religion, and blood: gives to +every stone in its huge form a fearful interest, and imparts new +meaning to its incongruities. I could think of little, +however, then, or long afterwards, but the sun in the +dungeons. The palace coming down to be the lounging-place +of noisy soldiers, and being forced to echo their rough talk, and +common oaths, and to have their garments fluttering from its +dirty windows, was some reduction of its state, and something to +rejoice at; but the day in its cells, and the sky for the roof of +its chambers of cruelty—that was its desolation and +defeat! If I had seen it in a blaze from ditch to rampart, +I should have felt that not that light, nor all the light in all +the fire that burns, could waste it, like the sunbeams in its +secret council-chamber, and its prisons.</p> +<p>Before I quit this Palace of the Popes, let me translate from +the little history I mentioned just now, a short anecdote, quite +appropriate to itself, connected with its adventures.</p> +<p>‘An ancient tradition relates, that in 1441, a nephew of +Pierre de Lude, the Pope’s legate, seriously insulted some +distinguished ladies of Avignon, whose relations, in revenge, +seized the young man, and horribly mutilated him. For +several years the legate kept <i>his</i> revenge within his own +breast, but he was not the less resolved upon its gratification +at last. He even made, in the fulness of time, advances +towards a complete reconciliation; and when their apparent +sincerity had prevailed, he invited to a splendid banquet, in +this palace, certain families, whole families, whom he sought to +exterminate. The utmost gaiety animated the repast; but the +measures of the legate were well taken. When the dessert +was on the board, a Swiss presented himself, with the +announcement that a strange ambassador solicited an extraordinary +audience. The legate, excusing himself, for the moment, to +his guests, retired, followed by his officers. Within a few +minutes afterwards, five hundred persons were reduced to ashes: +the whole of that wing of the building having been blown into the +air with a terrible explosion!’</p> +<p>After seeing the churches (I will not trouble you with +churches just now), we left Avignon that afternoon. The +heat being very great, the roads outside the walls were strewn +with people fast asleep in every little slip of shade, and with +lazy groups, half asleep and half awake, who were waiting until +the sun should be low enough to admit of their playing bowls +among the burnt-up trees, and on the dusty road. The +harvest here was already gathered in, and mules and horses were +treading out the corn in the fields. We came, at dusk, upon +a wild and hilly country, once famous for brigands; and travelled +slowly up a steep ascent. So we went on, until eleven at +night, when we halted at the town of Aix (within two stages of +Marseilles) to sleep.</p> +<p>The hotel, with all the blinds and shutters closed to keep the +light and heat out, was comfortable and airy next morning, and +the town was very clean; but so hot, and so intensely light, that +when I walked out at noon it was like coming suddenly from the +darkened room into crisp blue fire. The air was so very +clear, that distant hills and rocky points appeared within an +hour’s walk; while the town immediately at hand—with +a kind of blue wind between me and it—seemed to be white +hot, and to be throwing off a fiery air from the surface.</p> +<p>We left this town towards evening, and took the road to +Marseilles. A dusty road it was; the houses shut up close; +and the vines powdered white. At nearly all the cottage +doors, women were peeling and slicing onions into earthen bowls +for supper. So they had been doing last night all the way +from Avignon. We passed one or two shady dark +châteaux, surrounded by trees, and embellished with cool +basins of water: which were the more refreshing to behold, from +the great scarcity of such residences on the road we had +travelled. As we approached Marseilles, the road began to +be covered with holiday people. Outside the public-houses +were parties smoking, drinking, playing draughts and cards, and +(once) dancing. But dust, dust, dust, everywhere. We +went on, through a long, straggling, dirty suburb, thronged with +people; having on our left a dreary slope of land, on which the +country-houses of the Marseilles merchants, always staring white, +are jumbled and heaped without the slightest order: backs, +fronts, sides, and gables towards all points of the compass; +until, at last, we entered the town.</p> +<p>I was there, twice or thrice afterwards, in fair weather and +foul; and I am afraid there is no doubt that it is a dirty and +disagreeable place. But the prospect, from the fortified +heights, of the beautiful Mediterranean, with its lovely rocks +and islands, is most delightful. These heights are a +desirable retreat, for less picturesque reasons—as an +escape from a compound of vile smells perpetually arising from a +great harbour full of stagnant water, and befouled by the refuse +of innumerable ships with all sorts of cargoes: which, in hot +weather, is dreadful in the last degree.</p> +<p>There were foreign sailors, of all nations, in the streets; +with red shirts, blue shirts, buff shirts, tawny shirts, and +shirts of orange colour; with red caps, blue caps, green caps, +great beards, and no beards; in Turkish turbans, glazed English +hats, and Neapolitan head-dresses. There were the +townspeople sitting in clusters on the pavement, or airing +themselves on the tops of their houses, or walking up and down +the closest and least airy of Boulevards; and there were crowds +of fierce-looking people of the lower sort, blocking up the way, +constantly. In the very heart of all this stir and uproar, +was the common madhouse; a low, contracted, miserable building, +looking straight upon the street, without the smallest screen or +court-yard; where chattering mad-men and mad-women were peeping +out, through rusty bars, at the staring faces below, while the +sun, darting fiercely aslant into their little cells, seemed to +dry up their brains, and worry them, as if they were baited by a +pack of dogs.</p> +<p>We were pretty well accommodated at the Hôtel du +Paradis, situated in a narrow street of very high houses, with a +hairdresser’s shop opposite, exhibiting in one of its +windows two full-length waxen ladies, twirling round and round: +which so enchanted the hairdresser himself, that he and his +family sat in arm-chairs, and in cool undresses, on the pavement +outside, enjoying the gratification of the passers-by, with lazy +dignity. The family had retired to rest when we went to +bed, at midnight; but the hairdresser (a corpulent man, in drab +slippers) was still sitting there, with his legs stretched out +before him, and evidently couldn’t bear to have the +shutters put up.</p> +<p>Next day we went down to the harbour, where the sailors of all +nations were discharging and taking in cargoes of all kinds: +fruits, wines, oils, silks, stuffs, velvets, and every manner of +merchandise. Taking one of a great number of lively little +boats with gay-striped awnings, we rowed away, under the sterns +of great ships, under tow-ropes and cables, against and among +other boats, and very much too near the sides of vessels that +were faint with oranges, to the <i>Marie Antoinette</i>, a +handsome steamer bound for Genoa, lying near the mouth of the +harbour. By-and-by, the carriage, that unwieldy +‘trifle from the Pantechnicon,’ on a flat barge, +bumping against everything, and giving occasion for a prodigious +quantity of oaths and grimaces, came stupidly alongside; and by +five o’clock we were steaming out in the open sea. +The vessel was beautifully clean; the meals were served under an +awning on deck; the night was calm and clear; the quiet beauty of +the sea and sky unspeakable.</p> +<p>We were off Nice, early next morning, and coasted along, +within a few miles of the Cornice road (of which more in its +place) nearly all day. We could see Genoa before three; and +watching it as it gradually developed its splendid amphitheatre, +terrace rising above terrace, garden above garden, palace above +palace, height upon height, was ample occupation for us, till we +ran into the stately harbour. Having been duly astonished, +here, by the sight of a few Cappucini monks, who were watching +the fair-weighing of some wood upon the wharf, we drove off to +Albaro, two miles distant, where we had engaged a house.</p> +<p>The way lay through the main streets, but not through the +Strada Nuova, or the Strada Balbi, which are the famous streets +of palaces. I never in my life was so dismayed! The +wonderful novelty of everything, the unusual smells, the +unaccountable filth (though it is reckoned the cleanest of +Italian towns), the disorderly jumbling of dirty houses, one upon +the roof of another; the passages more squalid and more close +than any in St. Giles’s or old Paris; in and out of which, +not vagabonds, but well-dressed women, with white veils and great +fans, were passing and repassing; the perfect absence of +resemblance in any dwelling-house, or shop, or wall, or post, or +pillar, to anything one had ever seen before; and the +disheartening dirt, discomfort, and decay; perfectly confounded +me. I fell into a dismal reverie. I am conscious of a +feverish and bewildered vision of saints and virgins’ +shrines at the street corners—of great numbers of friars, +monks, and soldiers—of vast red curtains, waving in the +doorways of the churches—of always going up hill, and yet +seeing every other street and passage going higher up—of +fruit-stalls, with fresh lemons and oranges hanging in garlands +made of vine-leaves—of a guard-house, and a +drawbridge—and some gateways—and vendors of iced +water, sitting with little trays upon the margin of the +kennel—and this is all the consciousness I had, until I was +set down in a rank, dull, weedy court-yard, attached to a kind of +pink jail; and was told I lived there.</p> +<p>I little thought, that day, that I should ever come to have an +attachment for the very stones in the streets of Genoa, and to +look back upon the city with affection as connected with many +hours of happiness and quiet! But these are my first +impressions honestly set down; and how they changed, I will set +down too. At present, let us breathe after this long-winded +journey.</p> +<h2><a name="page238"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +238</span>GENOA AND ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> first impressions of such a +place as <span class="smcap">Albaro</span>, the suburb of Genoa, +where I am now, as my American friends would say, +‘located,’ can hardly fail, I should imagine, to be +mournful and disappointing. It requires a little time and +use to overcome the feeling of depression consequent, at first, +on so much ruin and neglect. Novelty, pleasant to most +people, is particularly delightful, I think, to me. I am +not easily dispirited when I have the means of pursuing my own +fancies and occupations; and I believe I have some natural +aptitude for accommodating myself to circumstances. But, as +yet, I stroll about here, in all the holes and corners of the +neighbourhood, in a perpetual state of forlorn surprise; and +returning to my villa: the Villa Bagnerello (it sounds romantic, +but Signor Bagnerello is a butcher hard by): have sufficient +occupation in pondering over my new experiences, and comparing +them, very much to my own amusement, with my expectations, until +I wander out again.</p> +<p>The Villa Bagnerello: or the Pink Jail, a far more expressive +name for the mansion: is in one of the most splendid situations +imaginable. The noble bay of Genoa, with the deep blue +Mediterranean, lies stretched out near at hand; monstrous old +desolate houses and palaces are dotted all about; lofty hills, +with their tops often hidden in the clouds, and with strong forts +perched high up on their craggy sides, are close upon the left; +and in front, stretching from the walls of the house, down to a +ruined chapel which stands upon the bold and picturesque rocks on +the sea-shore, are green vineyards, where you may wander all day +long in partial shade, through interminable vistas of grapes, +trained on a rough trellis-work across the narrow paths.</p> +<p>This sequestered spot is approached by lanes so very narrow, +that when we arrived at the Custom-house, we found the people +here had <i>taken the measure</i> of the narrowest among them, +and were waiting to apply it to the carriage; which ceremony was +gravely performed in the street, while we all stood by in +breathless suspense. It was found to be a very tight fit, +but just a possibility, and no more—as I am reminded every +day, by the sight of various large holes which it punched in the +walls on either side as it came along. We are more +fortunate, I am told, than an old lady, who took a house in these +parts not long ago, and who stuck fast in <i>her</i> carriage in +a lane; and as it was impossible to open one of the doors, she +was obliged to submit to the indignity of being hauled through +one of the little front windows, like a harlequin.</p> +<p>When you have got through these narrow lanes, you come to an +archway, imperfectly stopped up by a rusty old gate—my +gate. The rusty old gate has a bell to correspond, which +you ring as long as you like, and which nobody answers, as it has +no connection whatever with the house. But there is a rusty +old knocker, too—very loose, so that it slides round when +you touch it—and if you learn the trick of it, and knock +long enough, somebody comes. The brave Courier comes, and +gives you admittance. You walk into a seedy little garden, +all wild and weedy, from which the vineyard opens; cross it, +enter a square hall like a cellar, walk up a cracked marble +staircase, and pass into a most enormous room with a vaulted roof +and whitewashed walls: not unlike a great Methodist chapel. +This is the <i>sala</i>. It has five windows and five +doors, and is decorated with pictures which would gladden the +heart of one of those picture-cleaners in London who hang up, as +a sign, a picture divided, like death and the lady, at the top of +the old ballad: which always leaves you in a state of uncertainty +whether the ingenious professor has cleaned one half, or dirtied +the other. The furniture of this <i>sala</i> is a sort of +red brocade. All the chairs are immovable, and the sofa +weighs several tons.</p> +<p>On the same floor, and opening out of this same chamber, are +dining-room, drawing-room, and divers bedrooms: each with a +multiplicity of doors and windows. Up-stairs are divers +other gaunt chambers, and a kitchen; and down-stairs is another +kitchen, which, with all sorts of strange contrivances for +burning charcoal, looks like an alchemical laboratory. +There are also some half-dozen small sitting-rooms, where the +servants in this hot July, may escape from the heat of the fire, +and where the brave Courier plays all sorts of musical +instruments of his own manufacture, all the evening long. A +mighty old, wandering, ghostly, echoing, grim, bare house it is, +as ever I beheld or thought of.</p> +<p>There is a little vine-covered terrace, opening from the +drawing-room; and under this terrace, and forming one side of the +little garden, is what used to be the stable. It is now a +cow-house, and has three cows in it, so that we get new milk by +the bucketful. There is no pasturage near, and they never +go out, but are constantly lying down, and surfeiting themselves +with vine-leaves—perfect Italian cows enjoying the <i>dolce +far’ niente</i> all day long. They are presided over, +and slept with, by an old man named Antonio, and his son; two +burnt-sienna natives with naked legs and feet, who wear, each, a +shirt, a pair of trousers, and a red sash, with a relic, or some +sacred charm like the bonbon off a twelfth-cake, hanging round +the neck. The old man is very anxious to convert me to the +Catholic faith, and exhorts me frequently. We sit upon a +stone by the door, sometimes in the evening, like Robinson Crusoe +and Friday reversed; and he generally relates, towards my +conversion, an abridgment of the History of Saint +Peter—chiefly, I believe, from the unspeakable delight he +has in his imitation of the cock.</p> +<p>The view, as I have said, is charming; but in the day you must +keep the lattice-blinds close shut, or the sun would drive you +mad; and when the sun goes down you must shut up all the windows, +or the mosquitoes would tempt you to commit suicide. So at +this time of the year, you don’t see much of the prospect +within doors. As for the flies, you don’t mind +them. Nor the fleas, whose size is prodigious, and whose +name is Legion, and who populate the coach-house to that extent +that I daily expect to see the carriage going off bodily, drawn +by myriads of industrious fleas in harness. The rats are +kept away, quite comfortably, by scores of lean cats, who roam +about the garden for that purpose. The lizards, of course, +nobody cares for; they play in the sun, and don’t +bite. The little scorpions are merely curious. The +beetles are rather late, and have not appeared yet. The +frogs are company. There is a preserve of them in the +grounds of the next villa; and after nightfall, one would think +that scores upon scores of women in pattens were going up and +down a wet stone pavement without a moment’s +cessation. That is exactly the noise they make.</p> +<p>The ruined chapel, on the picturesque and beautiful sea-shore, +was dedicated, once upon a time, to Saint John the Baptist. +I believe there is a legend that Saint John’s bones were +received there, with various solemnities, when they were first +brought to Genoa; for Genoa possesses them to this day. +When there is any uncommon tempest at sea, they are brought out +and exhibited to the raging weather, which they never fail to +calm. In consequence of this connection of Saint John with +the city, great numbers of the common people are christened +Giovanni Baptista, which latter name is pronounced in the Genoese +patois ‘Batcheetcha,’ like a sneeze. To hear +everybody calling everybody else Batcheetcha, on a Sunday, or +festa-day, when there are crowds in the streets, is not a little +singular and amusing to a stranger.</p> +<p>The narrow lanes have great villas opening into them, whose +walls (outside walls, I mean) are profusely painted with all +sorts of subjects, grim and holy. But time and the sea-air +have nearly obliterated them; and they look like the entrance to +Vauxhall Gardens on a sunny day. The court-yards of these +houses are overgrown with grass and weeds; all sorts of hideous +patches cover the bases of the statues, as if they were afflicted +with a cutaneous disorder; the outer gates are rusty; and the +iron bars outside the lower windows are all tumbling down. +Firewood is kept in halls where costly treasures might be heaped +up, mountains high; waterfalls are dry and choked; fountains, too +dull to play, and too lazy to work, have just enough recollection +of their identity, in their sleep, to make the neighbourhood +damp; and the sirocco wind is often blowing over all these things +for days together, like a gigantic oven out for a holiday.</p> +<p>Not long ago, there was a festa-day, in honour of the +<i>Virgin’s mother</i>, when the young men of the +neighbourhood, having worn green wreaths of the vine in some +procession or other, bathed in them, by scores. It looked +very odd and pretty. Though I am bound to confess (not +knowing of the festa at that time), that I thought, and was quite +satisfied, they wore them as horses do—to keep the flies +off.</p> +<p>Soon afterwards, there was another festa-day, in honour of St. +Nazaro. One of the Albaro young men brought two large +bouquets soon after breakfast, and coming up-stairs into the +great <i>sala</i>, presented them himself. This was a +polite way of begging for a contribution towards the expenses of +some music in the Saint’s honour, so we gave him whatever +it may have been, and his messenger departed: well +satisfied. At six o’clock in the evening we went to +the church—close at hand—a very gaudy place, hung all +over with festoons and bright draperies, and filled, from the +altar to the main door, with women, all seated. They wear +no bonnets here, simply a long white veil—the +‘mezzero;’ and it was the most gauzy, +ethereal-looking audience I ever saw. The young women are +not generally pretty, but they walk remarkably well, and in their +personal carriage and the management of their veils, display much +innate grace and elegance. There were some men present: not +very many: and a few of these were kneeling about the aisles, +while everybody else tumbled over them. Innumerable tapers +were burning in the church; the bits of silver and tin about the +saints (especially in the Virgin’s necklace) sparkled +brilliantly; the priests were seated about the chief altar; the +organ played away, lustily, and a full band did the like; while a +conductor, in a little gallery opposite to the band, hammered +away on the desk before him, with a scroll; and a tenor, without +any voice, sang. The band played one way, the organ played +another, the singer went a third, and the unfortunate conductor +banged and banged, and flourished his scroll on some principle of +his own: apparently well satisfied with the whole +performance. I never did hear such a discordant din. +The heat was intense all the time.</p> +<p>The men, in red caps, and with loose coats hanging on their +shoulders (they never put them on), were playing bowls, and +buying sweetmeats, immediately outside the church. When +half-a-dozen of them finished a game, they came into the aisle, +crossed themselves with the holy water, knelt on one knee for an +instant, and walked off again to play another game at +bowls. They are remarkably expert at this diversion, and +will play in the stony lanes and streets, and on the most uneven +and disastrous ground for such a purpose, with as much nicety as +on a billiard-table. But the most favourite game is the +national one of Mora, which they pursue with surprising ardour, +and at which they will stake everything they possess. It is +a destructive kind of gambling, requiring no accessories but the +ten fingers, which are always—I intend no pun—at +hand. Two men play together. One calls a +number—say the extreme one, ten. He marks what +portion of it he pleases by throwing out three, or four, or five +fingers; and his adversary has, in the same instant, at hazard, +and without seeing his hand, to throw out as many fingers, as +will make the exact balance. Their eyes and hands become so +used to this, and act with such astonishing rapidity, that an +uninitiated bystander would find it very difficult, if not +impossible, to follow the progress of the game. The +initiated, however, of whom there is always an eager group +looking on, devour it with the most intense avidity; and as they +are always ready to champion one side or the other in case of a +dispute, and are frequently divided in their partisanship, it is +often a very noisy proceeding. It is never the quietest +game in the world; for the numbers are always called in a loud +sharp voice, and follow as close upon each other as they can be +counted. On a holiday evening, standing at a window, or +walking in a garden, or passing through the streets, or +sauntering in any quiet place about the town, you will hear this +game in progress in a score of wine-shops at once; and looking +over any vineyard walk, or turning almost any corner, will come +upon a knot of players in full cry. It is observable that +most men have a propensity to throw out some particular number +oftener than another; and the vigilance with which two sharp-eyed +players will mutually endeavour to detect this weakness, and +adapt their game to it, is very curious and entertaining. +The effect is greatly heightened by the universal suddenness and +vehemence of gesture; two men playing for half a farthing with an +intensity as all-absorbing as if the stake were life.</p> +<p>Hard by here is a large Palazzo, formerly belonging to some +member of the Brignole family, but just now hired by a school of +Jesuits for their summer quarters. I walked into its +dismantled precincts the other evening about sunset, and +couldn’t help pacing up and down for a little time, +drowsily taking in the aspect of the place: which is repeated +hereabouts in all directions.</p> +<p>I loitered to and fro, under a colonnade, forming two sides of +a weedy, grass-grown court-yard, whereof the house formed a third +side, and a low terrace-walk, overlooking the garden and the +neighbouring hills, the fourth. I don’t believe there +was an uncracked stone in the whole pavement. In the centre +was a melancholy statue, so piebald in its decay, that it looked +exactly as if it had been covered with sticking-plaster, and +afterwards powdered. The stables, coach-houses, offices, +were all empty, all ruinous, all utterly deserted.</p> +<p>Doors had lost their hinges, and were holding on by their +latches; windows were broken, painted plaster had peeled off, and +was lying about in clods; fowls and cats had so taken possession +of the out-buildings, that I couldn’t help thinking of the +fairy tales, and eyeing them with suspicion, as transformed +retainers, waiting to be changed back again. One old Tom in +particular: a scraggy brute, with a hungry green eye (a poor +relation, in reality, I am inclined to think): came prowling +round and round me, as if he half believed, for the moment, that +I might be the hero come to marry the lady, and set all +to-rights; but discovering his mistake, he suddenly gave a grim +snarl, and walked away with such a tremendous tail, that he +couldn’t get into the little hole where he lived, but was +obliged to wait outside, until his indignation and his tail had +gone down together.</p> +<p>In a sort of summer-house, or whatever it may be, in this +colonnade, some Englishmen had been living, like grubs in a nut; +but the Jesuits had given them notice to go, and they had gone, +and <i>that</i> was shut up too. The house: a wandering, +echoing, thundering barrack of a place, with the lower windows +barred up, as usual, was wide open at the door: and I have no +doubt I might have gone in, and gone to bed, and gone dead, and +nobody a bit the wiser. Only one suite of rooms on an upper +floor was tenanted; and from one of these, the voice of a +young-lady vocalist, practising bravura lustily, came flaunting +out upon the silent evening.</p> +<p>I went down into the garden, intended to be prim and quaint, +with avenues, and terraces, and orange-trees, and statues, and +water in stone basins; and everything was green, gaunt, weedy, +straggling, under grown or over grown, mildewy, damp, redolent of +all sorts of slabby, clammy, creeping, and uncomfortable +life. There was nothing bright in the whole scene but a +firefly—one solitary firefly—showing against the dark +bushes like the last little speck of the departed Glory of the +house; and even it went flitting up and down at sudden angles, +and leaving a place with a jerk, and describing an irregular +circle, and returning to the same place with a twitch that +startled one: as if it were looking for the rest of the Glory, +and wondering (Heaven knows it might!) what had become of it.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>In the course of two months, the flitting shapes and shadows +of my dismal entering reverie gradually resolved themselves into +familiar forms and substances; and I already began to think that +when the time should come, a year hence, for closing the long +holiday and turning back to England, I might part from Genoa with +anything but a glad heart.</p> +<p>It is a place that ‘grows upon you’ every +day. There seems to be always something to find out in +it. There are the most extraordinary alleys and by-ways to +walk about in. You can lose your way (what a comfort that +is, when you are idle!) twenty times a day, if you like; and turn +up again, under the most unexpected and surprising +difficulties. It abounds in the strangest contrasts; things +that are picturesque, ugly, mean, magnificent, delightful, and +offensive, break upon the view at every turn.</p> +<p>They who would know how beautiful the country immediately +surrounding Genoa is, should climb (in clear weather) to the top +of Monte Faccio, or, at least, ride round the city walls: a feat +more easily performed. No prospect can be more diversified +and lovely than the changing views of the harbour, and the +valleys of the two rivers, the Polcevera and the Bizagno, from +the heights along which the strongly fortified walls are carried, +like the great wall of China in little. In not the least +picturesque part of this ride, there is a fair specimen of a real +Genoese tavern, where the visitor may derive good entertainment +from real Genoese dishes, such as Tagliarini; Ravioli; German +sausages, strong of garlic, sliced and eaten with fresh green +figs; cocks’ combs and sheep-kidneys, chopped up with +mutton chops and liver; small pieces of some unknown part of a +calf, twisted into small shreds, fried, and served up in a great +dish like white-bait; and other curiosities of that kind. +They often get wine at these suburban Trattorie, from France and +Spain and Portugal, which is brought over by small captains in +little trading-vessels. They buy it at so much a bottle, +without asking what it is, or caring to remember if anybody tells +them, and usually divide it into two heaps; of which they label +one Champagne, and the other Madeira. The various opposite +flavours, qualities, countries, ages, and vintages that are +comprised under these two general heads is quite +extraordinary. The most limited range is probably from cool +Gruel up to old Marsala, and down again to apple Tea.</p> +<p>The great majority of the streets are as narrow as any +thoroughfare can well be, where people (even Italian people) are +supposed to live and walk about; being mere lanes, with here and +there a kind of well, or breathing-place. The houses are +immensely high, painted in all sorts of colours, and are in every +stage and state of damage, dirt, and lack of repair. They +are commonly let off in floors, or flats, like the houses in the +old town of Edinburgh, or many houses in Paris. There are +few street doors; the entrance halls are, for the most part, +looked upon as public property; and any moderately enterprising +scavenger might make a fine fortune by now and then clearing them +out. As it is impossible for coaches to penetrate into +these streets, there are sedan chairs, gilded and otherwise, for +hire in divers places. A great many private chairs are also +kept among the nobility and gentry; and at night these are +trotted to and fro in all directions, preceded by bearers of +great lanthorns, made of linen stretched upon a frame. The +sedans and lanthorns are the legitimate successors of the long +strings of patient and much-abused mules, that go jingling their +little bells through these confined streets all day long. +They follow them, as regularly as the stars the sun.</p> +<p>When shall I forget the Streets of Palaces: the Strada Nuova +and the Strada Balbi! or how the former looked one summer day, +when I first saw it underneath the brightest and most intensely +blue of summer skies: which its narrow perspective of immense +mansions, reduced to a tapering and most precious strip of +brightness, looking down upon the heavy shade below! A +brightness not too common, even in July and August, to be well +esteemed: for, if the Truth must out, there were not eight blue +skies in as many midsummer weeks, saving, sometimes, early in the +morning; when, looking out to sea, the water and the firmament +were one world of deep and brilliant blue. At other times, +there were clouds and haze enough to make an Englishman grumble +in his own climate.</p> +<p>The endless details of these rich Palaces: the walls of some +of them, within, alive with masterpieces by Vandyke! The +great, heavy, stone balconies, one above another, and tier over +tier: with here and there, one larger than the rest, towering +high up—a huge marble platform; the doorless vestibules, +massively barred lower windows, immense public staircases, thick +marble pillars, strong dungeon-like arches, and dreary, dreaming, +echoing vaulted chambers: among which the eye wanders again, and +again, and again, as every palace is succeeded by +another—the terrace gardens between house and house, with +green arches of the vine, and groves of orange-trees, and +blushing oleander in full bloom, twenty, thirty, forty feet above +the street—the painted halls, mouldering, and blotting, and +rotting in the damp corners, and still shining out in beautiful +colours and voluptuous designs, where the walls are dry—the +faded figures on the outsides of the houses, holding wreaths, and +crowns, and flying upward, and downward, and standing in niches, +and here and there looking fainter and more feeble than +elsewhere, by contrast with some fresh little Cupids, who on a +more recently decorated portion of the front, are stretching out +what seems to be the semblance of a blanket, but is, indeed, a +sun-dial—the steep, steep, up-hill streets of small palaces +(but very large palaces for all that), with marble terraces +looking down into close by-ways—the magnificent and +innumerable Churches; and the rapid passage from a street of +stately edifices, into a maze of the vilest squalor, steaming +with unwholesome stenches, and swarming with half-naked children +and whole worlds of dirty people—make up, altogether, such +a scene of wonder: so lively, and yet so dead: so noisy, and yet +so quiet: so obtrusive, and yet so shy and lowering: so wide +awake, and yet so fast asleep: that it is a sort of intoxication +to a stranger to walk on, and on, and on, and look about +him. A bewildering phantasmagoria, with all the +inconsistency of a dream, and all the pain and all the pleasure +of an extravagant reality!</p> +<p>The different uses to which some of these Palaces are applied, +all at once, is characteristic. For instance, the English +Banker (my excellent and hospitable friend) has his office in a +good-sized Palazzo in the Strada Nuova. In the hall (every +inch of which is elaborately painted, but which is as dirty as a +police-station in London), a hook-nosed Saracen’s Head with +an immense quantity of black hair (there is a man attached to it) +sells walking-sticks. On the other side of the doorway, a +lady with a showy handkerchief for head-dress (wife to the +Saracen’s Head, I believe) sells articles of her own +knitting; and sometimes flowers. A little further in, two +or three blind men occasionally beg. Sometimes, they are +visited by a man without legs, on a little go-cart, but who has +such a fresh-coloured, lively face, and such a respectable, +well-conditioned body, that he looks as if he had sunk into the +ground up to his middle, or had come, but partially, up a flight +of cellar-steps to speak to somebody. A little further in, +a few men, perhaps, lie asleep in the middle of the day; or they +may be chairmen waiting for their absent freight. If so, +they have brought their chairs in with them, and there +<i>they</i> stand also. On the left of the hall is a little +room: a hatter’s shop. On the first floor, is the +English bank. On the first floor also, is a whole house, +and a good large residence too. Heaven knows what there may +be above that; but when you are there, you have only just begun +to go up-stairs. And yet, coming down-stairs again, +thinking of this; and passing out at a great crazy door in the +back of the hall, instead of turning the other way, to get into +the street again; it bangs behind you, making the dismallest and +most lonesome echoes, and you stand in a yard (the yard of the +same house) which seems to have been unvisited by human foot, for +a hundred years. Not a sound disturbs its repose. Not +a head, thrust out of any of the grim, dark, jealous windows, +within sight, makes the weeds in the cracked pavement faint of +heart, by suggesting the possibility of there being hands to grub +them up. Opposite to you, is a giant figure carved in +stone, reclining, with an urn, upon a lofty piece of artificial +rockwork; and out of the urn, dangles the fag end of a leaden +pipe, which, once upon a time, poured a small torrent down the +rocks. But the eye-sockets of the giant are not drier than +this channel is now. He seems to have given his urn, which +is nearly upside down, a final tilt; and after crying, like a +sepulchral child, ‘All gone!’ to have lapsed into a +stony silence.</p> +<p>In the streets of shops, the houses are much smaller, but of +great size notwithstanding, and extremely high. They are +very dirty: quite undrained, if my nose be at all reliable: and +emit a peculiar fragrance, like the smell of very bad cheese, +kept in very hot blankets. Notwithstanding the height of +the houses, there would seem to have been a lack of room in the +City, for new houses are thrust in everywhere. Wherever it +has been possible to cram a tumble-down tenement into a crack or +corner, in it has gone. If there be a nook or angle in the +wall of a church, or a crevice in any other dead wall, of any +sort, there you are sure to find some kind of habitation: looking +as if it had grown there, like a fungus. Against the +Government House, against the old Senate House, round about any +large building, little shops stick so close, like parasite vermin +to the great carcase. And for all this, look where you may: +up steps, down steps, anywhere, everywhere: there are irregular +houses, receding, starting forward, tumbling down, leaning +against their neighbours, crippling themselves or their friends +by some means or other, until one, more irregular than the rest, +chokes up the way, and you can’t see any further.</p> +<p>One of the rottenest-looking parts of the town, I think, is +down by the landing-wharf: though it may be, that its being +associated with a great deal of rottenness on the evening of our +arrival, has stamped it deeper in my mind. Here, again, the +houses are very high, and are of an infinite variety of deformed +shapes, and have (as most of the houses have) something hanging +out of a great many windows, and wafting its frowsy fragrance on +the breeze. Sometimes, it is a curtain; sometimes, it is a +carpet; sometimes, it is a bed; sometimes, a whole line-full of +clothes; but there is almost always something. Before the +basement of these houses, is an arcade over the pavement: very +massive, dark, and low, like an old crypt. The stone, or +plaster, of which it is made, has turned quite black; and against +every one of these black piles, all sorts of filth and garbage +seem to accumulate spontaneously. Beneath some of the +arches, the sellers of macaroni and polenta establish their +stalls, which are by no means inviting. The offal of a +fish-market, near at hand—that is to say, of a back lane, +where people sit upon the ground and on various old bulk-heads +and sheds, and sell fish when they have any to dispose +of—and of a vegetable market, constructed on the same +principle—are contributed to the decoration of this +quarter; and as all the mercantile business is transacted here, +and it is crowded all day, it has a very decided flavour about +it. The Porto Franco, or Free Port (where goods brought in +from foreign countries pay no duty until they are sold and taken +out, as in a bonded warehouse in England), is down here also; and +two portentous officials, in cocked hats, stand at the gate to +search you if they choose, and to keep out Monks and +Ladies. For, Sanctity as well as Beauty has been known to +yield to the temptation of smuggling, and in the same way: that +is to say, by concealing the smuggled property beneath the loose +folds of its dress. So Sanctity and Beauty may, by no +means, enter.</p> +<p>The streets of Genoa would be all the better for the +importation of a few Priests of prepossessing appearance. +Every fourth or fifth man in the streets is a Priest or a Monk; +and there is pretty sure to be at least one itinerant +ecclesiastic inside or outside every hackney carriage on the +neighbouring roads. I have no knowledge, elsewhere, of more +repulsive countenances than are to be found among these +gentry. If Nature’s handwriting be at all legible, +greater varieties of sloth, deceit, and intellectual torpor, +could hardly be observed among any class of men in the world.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Pepys</span> once heard a clergyman +assert in his sermon, in illustration of his respect for the +Priestly office, that if he could meet a Priest and angel +together, he would salute the Priest first. I am rather of +the opinion of <span class="smcap">Petrarch</span>, who, when his +pupil <span class="smcap">Boccaccio</span> wrote to him in great +tribulation, that he had been visited and admonished for his +writings by a Carthusian Friar who claimed to be a messenger +immediately commissioned by Heaven for that purpose, replied, +that for his own part, he would take the liberty of testing the +reality of the commission by personal observation of the +Messenger’s face, eyes, forehead, behaviour, and +discourse. I cannot but believe myself, from similar +observation, that many unaccredited celestial messengers may be +seen skulking through the streets of Genoa, or droning away their +lives in other Italian towns.</p> +<p>Perhaps the Cappuccíni, though not a learned body, are, +as an order, the best friends of the people. They seem to +mingle with them more immediately, as their counsellors and +comforters; and to go among them more, when they are sick; and to +pry less than some other orders, into the secrets of families, +for the purpose of establishing a baleful ascendency over their +weaker members; and to be influenced by a less fierce desire to +make converts, and once made, to let them go to ruin, soul and +body. They may be seen, in their coarse dress, in all parts +of the town at all times, and begging in the markets early in the +morning. The Jesuits too, muster strong in the streets, and +go slinking noiselessly about, in pairs, like black cats.</p> +<p>In some of the narrow passages, distinct trades +congregate. There is a street of jewellers, and there is a +row of booksellers; but even down in places where nobody ever +can, or ever could, penetrate in a carriage, there are mighty old +palaces shut in among the gloomiest and closest walls, and almost +shut out from the sun. Very few of the tradesmen have any +idea of setting forth their goods, or disposing them for +show. If you, a stranger, want to buy anything, you usually +look round the shop till you see it; then clutch it, if it be +within reach, and inquire how much. Everything is sold at +the most unlikely place. If you want coffee, you go to a +sweetmeat shop; and if you want meat, you will probably find it +behind an old checked curtain, down half-a-dozen steps, in some +sequestered nook as hard to find as if the commodity were poison, +and Genoa’s law were death to any that uttered it.</p> +<p>Most of the apothecaries’ shops are great +lounging-places. Here, grave men with sticks, sit down in +the shade for hours together, passing a meagre Genoa paper from +hand to hand, and talking, drowsily and sparingly, about the +News. Two or three of these are poor physicians, ready to +proclaim themselves on an emergency, and tear off with any +messenger who may arrive. You may know them by the way in +which they stretch their necks to listen, when you enter; and by +the sigh with which they fall back again into their dull corners, +on finding that you only want medicine. Few people lounge +in the barbers’ shops; though they are very numerous, as +hardly any man shaves himself. But the apothecary’s +has its group of loungers, who sit back among the bottles, with +their hands folded over the tops of their sticks. So still +and quiet, that either you don’t see them in the darkened +shop, or mistake them—as I did one ghostly man in +bottle-green, one day, with a hat like a stopper—for Horse +Medicine.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>On a summer evening the Genoese are as fond of putting +themselves, as their ancestors were of putting houses, in every +available inch of space in and about the town. In all the +lanes and alleys, and up every little ascent, and on every dwarf +wall, and on every flight of steps, they cluster like bees. +Meanwhile (and especially on festa-days) the bells of the +churches ring incessantly; not in peals, or any known form of +sound, but in a horrible, irregular, jerking, dingle, dingle, +dingle: with a sudden stop at every fifteenth dingle or so, which +is maddening. This performance is usually achieved by a boy +up in the steeple, who takes hold of the clapper, or a little +rope attached to it, and tries to dingle louder than every other +boy similarly employed. The noise is supposed to be +particularly obnoxious to Evil Spirits; but looking up into the +steeples, and seeing (and hearing) these young Christians thus +engaged, one might very naturally mistake them for the Enemy.</p> +<p>Festa-days, early in the autumn, are very numerous. All +the shops were shut up, twice within a week, for these holidays; +and one night, all the houses in the neighbourhood of a +particular church were illuminated, while the church itself was +lighted, outside, <a name="page250"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +250</span>with torches; and a grove of blazing links was erected, +in an open space outside one of the city gates. This part +of the ceremony is prettier and more singular a little way in the +country, where you can trace the illuminated cottages all the way +up a steep hill-side; and where you pass festoons of tapers, +wasting away in the starlight night, before some lonely little +house upon the road.</p> +<p>On these days, they always dress the church of the saint in +whose honour the festa is holden, very gaily. +Gold-embroidered festoons of different colours, hang from the +arches; the altar furniture is set forth; and sometimes, even the +lofty pillars are swathed from top to bottom in tight-fitting +draperies. The cathedral is dedicated to St. Lorenzo. +On St. Lorenzo’s day, we went into it, just as the sun was +setting. Although these decorations are usually in very +indifferent taste, the effect, just then, was very superb +indeed. For the whole building was dressed in red; and the +sinking sun, streaming in, through a great red curtain in the +chief doorway, made all the gorgeousness its own. When the +sun went down, and it gradually grew quite dark inside, except +for a few twinkling tapers on the principal altar, and some small +dangling silver lamps, it was very mysterious and +effective. But, sitting in any of the churches towards +evening, is like a mild dose of opium.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p250b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Italian Romance" +title= +"Italian Romance" +src="images/p250s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>With the money collected at a festa, they usually pay for the +dressing of the church, and for the hiring of the band, and for +the tapers. If there be any left (which seldom happens, I +believe), the souls in Purgatory get the benefit of it. +They are also supposed to have the benefit of the exertions of +certain small boys, who shake money-boxes before some mysterious +little buildings like rural turnpikes, which (usually shut up +close) fly open on Red-letter days, and disclose an image and +some flowers inside.</p> +<p>Just without the city gate, on the Albara road, is a small +house, with an altar in it, and a stationary money-box: also for +the benefit of the souls in Purgatory. Still further to +stimulate the charitable, there is a monstrous painting on the +plaster, on either side of the grated door, representing a select +party of souls, frying. One of them has a grey moustache, +and an elaborate head of grey hair: as if he had been taken out +of a hairdresser’s window and cast into the furnace. +There he is: a most grotesque and hideously comic old soul: for +ever blistering in the real sun, and melting in the mimic fire, +for the gratification and improvement (and the contributions) of +the poor Genoese.</p> +<p>They are not a very joyous people, and are seldom seen to +dance on their holidays: the staple places of entertainment among +the women, being the churches and the public walks. They +are very good-tempered, obliging, and industrious. Industry +has not made them clean, for their habitations are extremely +filthy, and their usual occupation on a fine Sunday morning, is +to sit at their doors, hunting in each other’s heads. +But their dwellings are so close and confined that if those parts +of the city had been beaten down by Massena in the time of the +terrible Blockade, it would have at least occasioned one public +benefit among many misfortunes.</p> +<p>The Peasant Women, with naked feet and legs, are so constantly +washing clothes, in the public tanks, and in every stream and +ditch, that one cannot help wondering, in the midst of all this +dirt, who wears them when they are clean. The custom is to +lay the wet linen which is being operated upon, on a smooth +stone, and hammer away at it, with a flat wooden mallet. +This they do, as furiously as if they were revenging themselves +on dress in general for being connected with the Fall of +Mankind.</p> +<p>It is not unusual to see, lying on the edge of the tank at +these times, or on another flat stone, an unfortunate baby, +tightly swathed up, arms and legs and all, in an enormous +quantity of wrapper, so that it is unable to move a toe or +finger. This custom (which we often see represented in old +pictures) is universal among the common people. A child is +left anywhere without the possibility of crawling away, or is +accidentally knocked off a shelf, or tumbled out of bed, or is +hung up to a hook now and then, and left dangling like a doll at +an English rag-shop, without the least inconvenience to +anybody.</p> +<p>I was sitting, one Sunday, soon after my arrival, in the +little country church of San Martino, a couple of miles from the +city, while a baptism took place. I saw the priest, and an +attendant with a large taper, and a man, and a woman, and some +others; but I had no more idea, until the ceremony was all over, +that it was a baptism, or that the curious little stiff +instrument, that was passed from one to another, in the course of +the ceremony, by the handle—like a short poker—was a +child, than I had that it was my own christening. I +borrowed the child afterwards, for a minute or two (it was lying +across the font then), and found it very red in the face but +perfectly quiet, and not to be bent on any terms. The +number of cripples in the streets, soon ceased to surprise +me.</p> +<p>There are plenty of Saints’ and Virgin’s Shrines, +of course; generally at the corners of streets. The +favourite memento to the Faithful, about Genoa, is a painting, +representing a peasant on his knees, with a spade and some other +agricultural implements beside him; and the Madonna, with the +Infant Saviour in her arms, appearing to him in a cloud. +This is the legend of the Madonna della Guardia: a chapel on a +mountain within a few miles, which is in high repute. It +seems that this peasant lived all alone by himself, tilling some +land atop of the mountain, where, being a devout man, he daily +said his prayers to the Virgin in the open air; for his hut was a +very poor one. Upon a certain day, the Virgin appeared to +him, as in the picture, and said, ‘Why do you pray in the +open air, and without a priest?’ The peasant +explained because there was neither priest nor church at +hand—a very uncommon complaint indeed in Italy. +‘I should wish, then,’ said the Celestial Visitor, +‘to have a chapel built here, in which the prayers of the +Faithful may be offered up.’ ‘But, Santissima +Madonna,’ said the peasant, ‘I am a poor man; and +chapels cannot be built without money. They must be +supported, too, Santissima; for to have a chapel and not support +it liberally, is a wickedness—a deadly sin.’ +This sentiment gave great satisfaction to the visitor. +‘Go!’ said she. ‘There is such a village +in the valley on the left, and such another village in the valley +on the right, and such another village elsewhere, that will +gladly contribute to the building of a chapel. Go to +them! Relate what you have seen; and do not doubt that +sufficient money will be forthcoming to erect my chapel, or that +it will, afterwards, be handsomely maintained.’ All +of which (miraculously) turned out to be quite true. And in +proof of this prediction and revelation, there is the chapel of +the Madonna della Guardia, rich and flourishing at this day.</p> +<p>The splendour and variety of the Genoese churches, can hardly +be exaggerated. The church of the Annunciata especially: +built, like many of the others, at the cost of one noble family, +and now in slow progress of repair: from the outer door to the +utmost height of the high cupola, is so elaborately painted and +set in gold, that it looks (as <span class="smcap">Simond</span> +describes it, in his charming book on Italy) like a great +enamelled snuff-box. Most of the richer churches contain +some beautiful pictures, or other embellishments of great price, +almost universally set, side by side, with sprawling effigies of +maudlin monks, and the veriest trash and tinsel ever seen.</p> +<p>It may be a consequence of the frequent direction of the +popular mind, and pocket, to the souls in Purgatory, but there is +very little tenderness for the <i>bodies</i> of the dead +here. For the very poor, there are, immediately outside one +angle of the walls, and behind a jutting point of the +fortification, near the sea, certain common pits—one for +every day in the year—which all remain closed up, until the +turn of each comes for its daily reception of dead bodies. +Among the troops in the town, there are usually some Swiss: more +or less. When any of these die, they are buried out of a +fund maintained by such of their countrymen as are resident in +Genoa. Their providing coffins for these men is matter of +great astonishment to the authorities.</p> +<p>Certainly, the effect of this promiscuous and indecent +splashing down of dead people in so many wells, is bad. It +surrounds Death with revolting associations, that insensibly +become connected with those whom Death is approaching. +Indifference and avoidance are the natural result; and all the +softening influences of the great sorrow are harshly +disturbed.</p> +<p>There is a ceremony when an old Cavaliére or the like, +expires, of erecting a pile of benches in the cathedral, to +represent his bier; covering them over with a pall of black +velvet; putting his hat and sword on the top; making a little +square of seats about the whole; and sending out formal +invitations to his friends and acquaintances to come and sit +there, and hear Mass: which is performed at the principal Altar, +decorated with an infinity of candles for that purpose.</p> +<p>When the better kind of people die, or are at the point of +death, their nearest relations generally walk off: retiring into +the country for a little change, and leaving the body to be +disposed of, without any superintendence from them. The +procession is usually formed, and the coffin borne, and the +funeral conducted, by a body of persons called a +Confratérnita, who, as a kind of voluntary penance, +undertake to perform these offices, in regular rotation, for the +dead; but who, mingling something of pride with their humility, +are dressed in a loose garment covering their whole person, and +wear a hood concealing the face; with breathing-holes and +apertures for the eyes. The effect of this costume is very +ghastly: especially in the case of a certain Blue +Confratérnita belonging to Genoa, who, to say the least of +them, are very ugly customers, and who look—suddenly +encountered in their pious ministration in the streets—as +if they were Ghoules or Demons, bearing off the body for +themselves.</p> +<p>Although such a custom may be liable to the abuse attendant on +many Italian customs, of being recognised as a means of +establishing a current account with Heaven, on which to draw, too +easily, for future bad actions, or as an expiation for past +misdeeds, it must be admitted to be a good one, and a practical +one, and one involving unquestionably good works. A +voluntary service like this, is surely better than the imposed +penance (not at all an infrequent one) of giving so many licks to +such and such a stone in the pavement of the cathedral; or than a +vow to the Madonna to wear nothing but blue for a year or +two. This is supposed to give great delight above; blue +being (as is well known) the Madonna’s favourite +colour. Women who have devoted themselves to this act of +Faith, are very commonly seen walking in the streets.</p> +<p>There are three theatres in the city, besides an old one now +rarely opened. The most important—the Carlo Felice: +the opera-house of Genoa—is a very splendid, commodious, +and beautiful theatre. A company of comedians were acting +there, when we arrived: and soon after their departure, a +second-rate opera company came. The great season is not +until the carnival time—in the spring. Nothing +impressed me, so much, in my visits here (which were pretty +numerous) as the uncommonly hard and cruel character of the +audience, who resent the slightest defect, take nothing +good-humouredly, seem to be always lying in wait for an +opportunity to hiss, and spare the actresses as little as the +actors.</p> +<p>But, as there is nothing else of a public nature at which they +are allowed to express the least disapprobation, perhaps they are +resolved to make the most of this opportunity.</p> +<p>There are a great number of Piedmontese officers too, who are +allowed the privilege of kicking their heels in the pit, for next +to nothing: gratuitous, or cheap accommodation for these +gentlemen being insisted on, by the Governor, in all public or +semi-public entertainments. They are lofty critics in +consequence, and infinitely more exacting than if they made the +unhappy manager’s fortune.</p> +<p>The <span class="smcap">Teatro Diurno</span>, or Day Theatre, +is a covered stage in the open air, where the performances take +place by daylight, in the cool of the afternoon; commencing at +four or five o’clock, and lasting, some three hours. +It is curious, sitting among the audience, to have a fine view of +the neighbouring hills and houses, and to see the neighbours at +their windows looking on, and to hear the bells of the churches +and convents ringing at most complete cross-purposes with the +scene. Beyond this, and the novelty of seeing a play in the +fresh pleasant air, with the darkening evening closing in, there +is nothing very exciting or characteristic in the +performances. The actors are indifferent; and though they +sometimes represent one of Goldoni’s comedies, the staple +of the Drama is French. Anything like nationality is +dangerous to despotic governments, and Jesuit-beleaguered +kings.</p> +<p>The Theatre of Puppets, or Marionetti—a famous company +from Milan—is, without any exception, the drollest +exhibition I ever beheld in my life. I never saw anything +so exquisitely ridiculous. They <i>look</i> between four +and five feet high, but are really much smaller; for when a +musician in the orchestra happens to put his hat on the stage, it +becomes alarmingly gigantic, and almost blots out an actor. +They usually play a comedy, and a ballet. The comic man in +the comedy I saw one summer night, is a waiter in an hotel. +There never was such a locomotive actor, since the world +began. Great pains are taken with him. He has extra +joints in his legs: and a practical eye, with which he winks at +the pit, in a manner that is absolutely insupportable to a +stranger, but which the initiated audience, mainly composed of +the common people, receive (so they do everything else) quite as +a matter of course, and as if he were a man. His spirits +are prodigious. He continually shakes his legs, and winks +his eye. And there is a heavy father with grey hair, who +sits down on the regular conventional stage-bank, and blesses his +daughter in the regular conventional way, who is +tremendous. No one would suppose it possible that anything +short of a real man could be so tedious. It is the triumph +of art.</p> +<p>In the ballet, an Enchanter runs away with the Bride, in the +very hour of her nuptials, He brings her to his cave, and tries +to soothe her. They sit down on a sofa (the regular sofa! +in the regular place, O. P. Second Entrance!) and a procession of +musicians enters; one creature playing a drum, and knocking +himself off his legs at every blow. These failing to +delight her, dancers appear. Four first; then two; +<i>the</i> two; the flesh-coloured two. The way in which +they dance; the height to which they spring; the impossible and +inhuman extent to which they pirouette; the revelation of their +preposterous legs; the coming down with a pause, on the very tips +of their toes, when the music requires it; the gentleman’s +retiring up, when it is the lady’s turn; and the +lady’s retiring up, when it is the gentleman’s turn; +the final passion of a pas-de-deux; and the going off with a +bound!—I shall never see a real ballet, with a composed +countenance again.</p> +<p>I went, another night, to see these Puppets act a play called +‘St. Helena, or the Death of Napoleon.’ It +began by the disclosure of Napoleon, with an immense head, seated +on a sofa in his chamber at St. Helena; to whom his valet entered +with this obscure announcement:</p> +<p>‘Sir Yew ud se on Low?’ (the <i>ow</i>, as in +cow).</p> +<p>Sir Hudson (that you could have seen his regimentals!) was a +perfect mammoth of a man, to Napoleon; hideously ugly, with a +monstrously disproportionate face, and a great clump for the +lower-jaw, to express his tyrannical and obdurate nature. +He began his system of persecution, by calling his prisoner +‘General Buonaparte;’ to which the latter replied, +with the deepest tragedy, ‘Sir Yew ud se on Low, call me +not thus. Repeat that phrase and leave me! I am +Napoleon, Emperor of France!’ Sir Yew ud se on, +nothing daunted, proceeded to entertain him with an ordinance of +the British Government, regulating the state he should preserve, +and the furniture of his rooms: and limiting his attendants to +four or five persons. ‘Four or five for +<i>me</i>!’ said Napoleon. ‘Me! One +hundred thousand men were lately at my sole command; and this +English officer talks of four or five for <i>me</i>!’ +Throughout the piece, Napoleon (who talked very like the real +Napoleon, and was, for ever, having small soliloquies by himself) +was very bitter on ‘these English officers,’ and +‘these English soldiers;’ to the great satisfaction +of the audience, who were perfectly delighted to have Low +bullied; and who, whenever Low said ‘General +Buonaparte’ (which he always did: always receiving the same +correction), quite execrated him. It would be hard to say +why; for Italians have little cause to sympathise with Napoleon, +Heaven knows.</p> +<p>There was no plot at all, except that a French officer, +disguised as an Englishman, came to propound a plan of escape; +and being discovered, but not before Napoleon had magnanimously +refused to steal his freedom, was immediately ordered off by Low +to be hanged. In two very long speeches, which Low made +memorable, by winding up with ‘Yas!’—to show +that he was English—which brought down thunders of +applause. Napoleon was so affected by this catastrophe, +that he fainted away on the spot, and was carried out by two +other puppets. Judging from what followed, it would appear +that he never recovered the shock; for the next act showed him, +in a clean shirt, in his bed (curtains crimson and white), where +a lady, prematurely dressed in mourning, brought two little +children, who kneeled down by the bedside, while he made a decent +end; the last word on his lips being ‘Vatterlo.’</p> +<p>It was unspeakably ludicrous. Buonaparte’s boots +were so wonderfully beyond control, and did such marvellous +things of their own accord: doubling themselves up, and getting +under tables, and dangling in the air, and sometimes skating away +with him, out of all human knowledge, when he was in full +speech—mischances which were not rendered the less absurd, +by a settled melancholy depicted in his face. To put an end +to one conference with Low, he had to go to a table, and read a +book: when it was the finest spectacle I ever beheld, to see his +body bending over the volume, like a boot-jack, and his +sentimental eyes glaring obstinately into the pit. He was +prodigiously good, in bed, with an immense collar to his shirt, +and his little hands outside the coverlet. So was Dr. +Antommarchi, represented by a puppet with long lank hair, like +Mawworm’s, who, in consequence of some derangement of his +wires, hovered about the couch like a vulture, and gave medical +opinions in the air. He was almost as good as Low, though +the latter was great at all times—a decided brute and +villain, beyond all possibility of mistake. Low was +especially fine at the last, when, hearing the doctor and the +valet say, ‘The Emperor is dead!’ he pulled out his +watch, and wound up the piece (not the watch) by exclaiming, with +characteristic brutality, ‘Ha! ha! Eleven minutes to +six! The General dead! and the spy hanged!’ +This brought the curtain down, triumphantly.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>There is not in Italy, they say (and I believe them), a +lovelier residence than the Palazzo Peschiere, or Palace of the +Fishponds, whither we removed as soon as our three months’ +tenancy of the Pink Jail at Albaro had ceased and determined.</p> +<p>It stands on a height within the walls of Genoa, but aloof +from the town: surrounded by beautiful gardens of its own, +adorned with statues, vases, fountains, marble basins, terraces, +walks of orange-trees and lemon-trees, groves of roses and +camellias. All its apartments are beautiful in their +proportions and decorations; but the great hall, some fifty feet +in height, with three large windows at the end, overlooking the +whole town of Genoa, the harbour, and the neighbouring sea, +affords one of the most fascinating and delightful prospects in +the world. Any house more cheerful and habitable than the +great rooms are, within, it would be difficult to conceive; and +certainly nothing more delicious than the scene without, in +sunshine or in moonlight, could be imagined. It is more +like an enchanted place in an Eastern story than a grave and +sober lodging.</p> +<p>How you may wander on, from room to room, and never tire of +the wild fancies on the walls and ceilings, as bright in their +fresh colouring as if they had been painted yesterday; or how one +floor, or even the great hall which opens on eight other rooms, +is a spacious promenade; or how there are corridors and +bed-chambers above, which we never use and rarely visit, and +scarcely know the way through; or how there is a view of a +perfectly different character on each of the four sides of the +building; matters little. But that prospect from the hall +is like a vision to me. I go back to it, in fancy, as I +have done in calm reality a hundred times a day; and stand there, +looking out, with the sweet scents from the garden rising up +about me, in a perfect dream of happiness.</p> +<p>There lies all Genoa, in beautiful confusion, with its many +churches, monasteries, and convents, pointing up into the sunny +sky; and down below me, just where the roofs begin, a solitary +convent parapet, fashioned like a gallery, with an iron across at +the end, where sometimes early in the morning, I have seen a +little group of dark-veiled nuns gliding sorrowfully to and fro, +and stopping now and then to peep down upon the waking world in +which they have no part. Old Monte Faccio, brightest of +hills in good weather, but sulkiest when storms are coming on, is +here, upon the left. The Fort within the walls (the good +King built it to command the town, and beat the houses of the +Genoese about their ears, in case they should be discontented) +commands that height upon the right. The broad sea lies +beyond, in front there; and that line of coast, beginning by the +light-house, and tapering away, a mere speck in the rosy +distance, is the beautiful coast road that leads to Nice. +The garden near at hand, among the roofs and houses: all red with +roses and fresh with little fountains: is the Acqua Sola—a +public promenade, where the military band plays gaily, and the +white veils cluster thick, and the Genoese nobility ride round, +and round, and round, in state-clothes and coaches at least, if +not in absolute wisdom. Within a stone’s-throw, as it +seems, the audience of the Day Theatre sit: their faces turned +this way. But as the stage is hidden, it is very odd, +without a knowledge of the cause, to see their faces changed so +suddenly from earnestness to laughter; and odder still, to hear +the rounds upon rounds of applause, rattling in the evening air, +to which the curtain falls. But, being Sunday night, they +act their best and most attractive play. And now, the sun +is going down, in such magnificent array of red, and green, and +golden light, as neither pen nor pencil could depict; and to the +ringing of the vesper bells, darkness sets in at once, without a +twilight. Then, lights begin to shine in Genoa, and on the +country road; and the revolving lanthorn out at sea there, +flashing, for an instant, on this palace front and portico, +illuminates it as if there were a bright moon bursting from +behind a cloud; then, merges it in deep obscurity. And +this, so far as I know, is the only reason why the Genoese avoid +it after dark, and think it haunted.</p> +<p>My memory will haunt it, many nights, in time to come; but +nothing worse, I will engage. The same Ghost will +occasionally sail away, as I did one pleasant autumn evening, +into the bright prospect, and sniff the morning air at +Marseilles.</p> +<p>The corpulent hairdresser was still sitting in his slippers +outside his shop-door there, but the twirling ladies in the +window, with the natural inconstancy of their sex, had ceased to +twirl, and were languishing, stock still, with their beautiful +faces addressed to blind corners of the establishment, where it +was impossible for admirers to penetrate.</p> +<p>The steamer had come from Genoa in a delicious run of eighteen +hours, and we were going to run back again by the Cornice road +from Nice: not being satisfied to have seen only the outsides of +the beautiful towns that rise in picturesque white clusters from +among the olive woods, and rocks, and hills, upon the margin of +the Sea.</p> +<p>The Boat which started for Nice that night, at eight +o’clock, was very small, and so crowded with goods that +there was scarcely room to move; neither was there anything to +cat on board, except bread; nor to drink, except coffee. +But being due at Nice at about eight or so in the morning, this +was of no consequence; so when we began to wink at the bright +stars, in involuntary acknowledgment of their winking at us, we +turned into our berths, in a crowded, but cool little cabin, and +slept soundly till morning.</p> +<p>The Boat, being as dull and dogged a little boat as ever was +built, it was within an hour of noon when we turned into Nice +Harbour, where we very little expected anything but +breakfast. But we were laden with wool. Wool must not +remain in the Custom-house at Marseilles more than twelve months +at a stretch, without paying duty. It is the custom to make +fictitious removals of unsold wool to evade this law; to take it +somewhere when the twelve months are nearly out; bring it +straight back again; and warehouse it, as a new cargo, for nearly +twelve months longer. This wool of ours, had come +originally from some place in the East. It was recognised +as Eastern produce, the moment we entered the harbour. +Accordingly, the gay little Sunday boats, full of holiday people, +which had come off to greet us, were warned away by the +authorities; we were declared in quarantine; and a great flag was +solemnly run up to the mast-head on the wharf, to make it known +to all the town.</p> +<p>It was a very hot day indeed. We were unshaved, +unwashed, undressed, unfed, and could hardly enjoy the absurdity +of lying blistering in a lazy harbour, with the town looking on +from a respectful distance, all manner of whiskered men in cocked +hats discussing our fate at a remote guard-house, with gestures +(we looked very hard at them through telescopes) expressive of a +week’s detention at least: and nothing whatever the matter +all the time. But even in this crisis the brave Courier +achieved a triumph. He telegraphed somebody (<i>I</i> saw +nobody) either naturally connected with the hotel, or put <i>en +rapport</i> with the establishment for that occasion only. +The telegraph was answered, and in half an hour or less, there +came a loud shout from the guard-house. The captain was +wanted. Everybody helped the captain into his boat. +Everybody got his luggage, and said we were going. The +captain rowed away, and disappeared behind a little jutting +corner of the Galley-slaves’ Prison: and presently came +back with something, very sulkily. The brave Courier met +him at the side, and received the something as its rightful +owner. It was a wicker basket, folded in a linen cloth; and +in it were two great bottles of wine, a roast fowl, some salt +fish chopped with garlic, a great loaf of bread, a dozen or so of +peaches, and a few other trifles. When we had selected our +own breakfast, the brave Courier invited a chosen party to +partake of these refreshments, and assured them that they need +not be deterred by motives of delicacy, as he would order a +second basket to be furnished at their expense. Which he +did—no one knew how—and by-and-by, the captain being +again summoned, again sulkily returned with another something; +over which my popular attendant presided as before: carving with +a clasp-knife, his own personal property, something smaller than +a Roman sword.</p> +<p>The whole party on board were made merry by these unexpected +supplies; but none more so than a loquacious little Frenchman, +who got drunk in five minutes, and a sturdy Cappuccíno +Friar, who had taken everybody’s fancy mightily, and was +one of the best friars in the world, I verily believe.</p> +<p>He had a free, open countenance; and a rich brown, flowing +beard; and was a remarkably handsome man, of about fifty. +He had come up to us, early in the morning, and inquired whether +we were sure to be at Nice by eleven; saying that he particularly +wanted to know, because if we reached it by that time he would +have to perform Mass, and must deal with the consecrated wafer, +fasting; whereas, if there were no chance of his being in time, +he would immediately breakfast. He made this communication, +under the idea that the brave Courier was the captain; and indeed +he looked much more like it than anybody else on board. +Being assured that we should arrive in good time, he fasted, and +talked, fasting, to everybody, with the most charming good +humour; answering jokes at the expense of friars, with other +jokes at the expense of laymen, and saying that, friar as he was, +he would engage to take up the two strongest men on board, one +after the other, with his teeth, and carry them along the +deck. Nobody gave him the opportunity, but I dare say he +could have done it; for he was a gallant, noble figure of a man, +even in the Cappuccíno dress, which is the ugliest and +most ungainly that can well be.</p> +<p>All this had given great delight to the loquacious Frenchman, +who gradually patronised the Friar very much, and seemed to +commiserate him as one who might have been born a Frenchman +himself, but for an unfortunate destiny. Although his +patronage was such as a mouse might bestow upon a lion, he had a +vast opinion of its condescension; and in the warmth of that +sentiment, occasionally rose on tiptoe, to slap the Friar on the +back.</p> +<p>When the baskets arrived: it being then too late for Mass: the +Friar went to work bravely: eating prodigiously of the cold meat +and bread, drinking deep draughts of the wine, smoking cigars, +taking snuff, sustaining an uninterrupted conversation with all +hands, and occasionally running to the boat’s side and +hailing somebody on shore with the intelligence that we +<i>must</i> be got out of this quarantine somehow or other, as he +had to take part in a great religious procession in the +afternoon. After this, he would come back, laughing lustily +from pure good humour: while the Frenchman wrinkled his small +face into ten thousand creases, and said how droll it was, and +what a brave boy was that Friar! At length the heat of the +sun without, and the wine within, made the Frenchman +sleepy. So, in the noontide of his patronage of his +gigantic protégé, he lay down among the wool, and +began to snore.</p> +<p>It was four o’clock before we were released; and the +Frenchman, dirty and woolly, and snuffy, was still sleeping when +the Friar went ashore. As soon as we were free, we all +hurried away, to wash and dress, that we might make a decent +appearance at the procession; and I saw no more of the Frenchman +until we took up our station in the main street to see it pass, +when he squeezed himself into a front place, elaborately +renovated; threw back his little coat, to show a broad-barred +velvet waistcoat, sprinkled all over with stars; then adjusted +himself and his cane so as utterly to bewilder and transfix the +Friar, when he should appear.</p> +<p>The procession was a very long one, and included an immense +number of people divided into small parties; each party chanting +nasally, on its own account, without reference to any other, and +producing a most dismal result. There were angels, crosses, +Virgins carried on flat boards surrounded by Cupids, crowns, +saints, missals, infantry, tapers, monks, nuns, relics, +dignitaries of the church in green hats, walking under crimson +parasols: and, here and there, a species of sacred street-lamp +hoisted on a pole. We looked out anxiously for the +Cappuccíni, and presently their brown robes and corded +girdles were seen coming on, in a body.</p> +<p>I observed the little Frenchman chuckle over the idea that +when the Friar saw him in the broad-barred waistcoat, he would +mentally exclaim, ‘Is that my Patron! <i>That</i> +distinguished man!’ and would be covered with +confusion. Ah! never was the Frenchman so deceived. +As our friend the Cappuccíno advanced, with folded arms, +he looked straight into the visage of the little Frenchman, with +a bland, serene, composed abstraction, not to be described. +There was not the faintest trace of recognition or amusement on +his features; not the smallest consciousness of bread and meat, +wine, snuff, or cigars. ‘C’est +lui-même,’ I heard the little Frenchman say, in some +doubt. Oh yes, it was himself. It was not his brother +or his nephew, very like him. It was he. He walked in +great state: being one of the Superiors of the Order: and looked +his part to admiration. There never was anything so perfect +of its kind as the contemplative way in which he allowed his +placid gaze to rest on us, his late companions, as if he had +never seen us in his life and didn’t see us then. The +Frenchman, quite humbled, took off his hat at last, but the Friar +still passed on, with the same imperturbable serenity; and the +broad-barred waistcoat, fading into the crowd, was seen no +more.</p> +<p>The procession wound up with a discharge of musketry that +shook all the windows in the town. Next afternoon we +started for Genoa, by the famed Cornice road.</p> +<p>The half-French, half-Italian Vetturíno, who undertook, +with his little rattling carriage and pair, to convey us thither +in three days, was a careless, good-looking fellow, whose +light-heartedness and singing propensities knew no bounds as long +as we went on smoothly. So long, he had a word and a smile, +and a flick of his whip, for all the peasant girls, and odds and +ends of the Sonnambula for all the echoes. So long, he went +jingling through every little village, with bells on his horses +and rings in his ears: a very meteor of gallantry and +cheerfulness. But, it was highly characteristic to see him +under a slight reverse of circumstances, when, in one part of the +journey, we came to a narrow place where a waggon had broken down +and stopped up the road. His hands were twined in his hair +immediately, as if a combination of all the direst accidents in +life had suddenly fallen on his devoted head. He swore in +French, prayed in Italian, and went up and down, beating his feet +on the ground in a very ecstasy of despair. There were +various carters and mule-drivers assembled round the broken +waggon, and at last some man of an original turn of mind, +proposed that a general and joint effort should be made to get +things to-rights again, and clear the way—an idea which I +verily believe would never have presented itself to our friend, +though we had remained there until now. It was done at no +great cost of labour; but at every pause in the doing, his hands +were wound in his hair again, as if there were no ray of hope to +lighten his misery. The moment he was on his box once more, +and clattering briskly down hill, he returned to the Sonnambula +and the peasant girls, as if it were not in the power of +misfortune to depress him.</p> +<p>Much of the romance of the beautiful towns and villages on +this beautiful road, disappears when they are entered, for many +of them are very miserable. The streets are narrow, dark, +and dirty; the inhabitants lean and squalid; and the withered old +women, with their wiry grey hair twisted up into a knot on the +top of the head, like a pad to carry loads on, are so intensely +ugly, both along the Riviera, and in Genoa, too, that, seen +straggling about in dim doorways with their spindles, or crooning +together in by-corners, they are like a population of +Witches—except that they certainly are not to be suspected +of brooms or any other instrument of cleanliness. Neither +are the pig-skins, in common use to hold wine, and hung out in +the sun in all directions, by any means ornamental, as they +always preserve the form of very bloated pigs, with their heads +and legs cut off, dangling upside-down by their own tails.</p> +<p>These towns, as they are seen in the approach, however: +nestling, with their clustering roofs and towers, among trees on +steep hill-sides, or built upon the brink of noble bays: are +charming. The vegetation is, everywhere, luxuriant and +beautiful, and the Palm-tree makes a novel feature in the novel +scenery. In one town, San Remo—a most extraordinary +place, built on gloomy open arches, so that one might ramble +underneath the whole town—there are pretty terrace gardens; +in other towns, there is the clang of shipwrights’ hammers, +and the building of small vessels on the beach. In some of +the broad bays, the fleets of Europe might ride at anchor. +In every case, each little group of houses presents, in the +distance, some enchanting confusion of picturesque and fanciful +shapes.</p> +<p>The road itself—now high above the glittering sea, which +breaks against the foot of the precipice: now turning inland to +sweep the shore of a bay: now crossing the stony bed of a +mountain stream: now low down on the beach: now winding among +riven rocks of many forms and colours: now chequered by a +solitary ruined tower, one of a chain of towers built, in old +time, to protect the coast from the invasions of the Barbary +Corsairs—presents new beauties every moment. When its +own striking scenery is passed, and it trails on through a long +line of suburb, lying on the flat sea-shore, to Genoa, then, the +changing glimpses of that noble city and its harbour, awaken a +new source of interest; freshened by every huge, unwieldy, +half-inhabited old house in its outskirts: and coming to its +climax when the city gate is reached, and all Genoa with its +beautiful harbour, and neighbouring hills, bursts proudly on the +view.</p> +<h2><a name="page264"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 264</span>TO +PARMA, MODENA, AND BOLOGNA</h2> +<p>I <span class="smcap">strolled</span> away from Genoa on the +6th of November, bound for a good many places (England among +them), but first for Piacenza; for which town I started in the +<i>coupé</i> of a machine something like a travelling +caravan, in company with the brave Courier, and a lady with a +large dog, who howled dolefully, at intervals, all night. +It was very wet, and very cold; very dark, and very dismal; we +travelled at the rate of barely four miles an hour, and stopped +nowhere for refreshment. At ten o’clock next morning, +we changed coaches at Alessandria, where we were packed up in +another coach (the body whereof would have been small for a fly), +in company with a very old priest; a young Jesuit, his +companion—who carried their breviaries and other books, and +who, in the exertion of getting into the coach, had made a gash +of pink leg between his black stocking and his black knee-shorts, +that reminded one of Hamlet in Ophelia’s closet, only it +was visible on both legs—a provincial Avvocáto; and +a gentleman with a red nose that had an uncommon and singular +sheen upon it, which I never observed in the human subject +before. In this way we travelled on, until four +o’clock in the afternoon; the roads being still very heavy, +and the coach very slow. To mend the matter, the old priest +was troubled with cramps in his legs, so that he had to give a +terrible yell every ten minutes or so, and be hoisted out by the +united efforts of the company; the coach always stopping for him, +with great gravity. This disorder, and the roads, formed +the main subject of conversation. Finding, in the +afternoon, that the <i>coupé</i> had discharged two +people, and had only one passenger inside—a monstrous ugly +Tuscan, with a great purple moustache, of which no man could see +the ends when he had his hat on—I took advantage of its +better accommodation, and in company with this gentleman (who was +very conversational and good-humoured) travelled on, until nearly +eleven o’clock at night, when the driver reported that he +couldn’t think of going any farther, and we accordingly +made a halt at a place called Stradella.</p> +<p>The inn was a series of strange galleries surrounding a yard +where our coach, and a waggon or two, and a lot of fowls, and +firewood, were all heaped up together, higgledy-piggledy; so that +you didn’t know, and couldn’t have taken your oath, +which was a fowl and which was a cart. We followed a sleepy +man with a flaring torch, into a great, cold room, where there +were two immensely broad beds, on what looked like two immensely +broad deal dining-tables; another deal table of similar +dimensions in the middle of the bare floor; four windows; and two +chairs. Somebody said it was my room; and I walked up and +down it, for half an hour or so, staring at the Tuscan, the old +priest, the young priest, and the Avvocáto (Red-Nose lived +in the town, and had gone home), who sat upon their beds, and +stared at me in return.</p> +<p>The rather dreary whimsicality of this stage of the +proceedings, is interrupted by an announcement from the Brave (he +had been cooking) that supper is ready; and to the priest’s +chamber (the next room and the counterpart of mine) we all +adjourn. The first dish is a cabbage, boiled with a great +quantity of rice in a tureen full of water, and flavoured with +cheese. It is so hot, and we are so cold, that it appears +almost jolly. The second dish is some little bits of pork, +fried with pigs’ kidneys. The third, two red +fowls. The fourth, two little red turkeys. The fifth, +a huge stew of garlic and truffles, and I don’t know what +else; and this concludes the entertainment.</p> +<p>Before I can sit down in my own chamber, and think it of the +dampest, the door opens, and the Brave comes moving in, in the +middle of such a quantity of fuel that he looks like Birnam Wood +taking a winter walk. He kindles this heap in a twinkling, +and produces a jorum of hot brandy and water; for that bottle of +his keeps company with the seasons, and now holds nothing but the +purest <i>eau de vie</i>. When he has accomplished this +feat, he retires for the night; and I hear him, for an hour +afterwards, and indeed until I fall asleep, making jokes in some +outhouse (apparently under the pillow), where he is smoking +cigars with a party of confidential friends. He never was +in the house in his life before; but he knows everybody +everywhere, before he has been anywhere five minutes; and is +certain to have attracted to himself, in the meantime, the +enthusiastic devotion of the whole establishment.</p> +<p>This is at twelve o’clock at night. At four +o’clock next morning, he is up again, fresher than a +full-blown rose; making blazing fires without the least authority +from the landlord; producing mugs of scalding coffee when nobody +else can get anything but cold water; and going out into the dark +streets, and roaring for fresh milk, on the chance of somebody +with a cow getting up to supply it. While the horses are +‘coming,’ I stumble out into the town too. It +seems to be all one little Piazza, with a cold damp wind blowing +in and out of the arches, alternately, in a sort of +pattern. But it is profoundly dark, and raining heavily; +and I shouldn’t know it to-morrow, if I were taken there to +try. Which Heaven forbid.</p> +<p>The horses arrive in about an hour. In the interval, the +driver swears; sometimes Christian oaths, sometimes Pagan +oaths. Sometimes, when it is a long, compound oath, he +begins with Christianity and merges into Paganism. Various +messengers are despatched; not so much after the horses, as after +each other; for the first messenger never comes back, and all the +rest imitate him. At length the horses appear, surrounded +by all the messengers; some kicking them, and some dragging them, +and all shouting abuse to them. Then, the old priest, the +young priest, the Avvocáto, the Tuscan, and all of us, +take our places; and sleepy voices proceeding from the doors of +extraordinary hutches in divers parts of the yard, cry out +‘Addio corrière mio! Buon’ +viággio, corrière!’ Salutations which +the courier, with his face one monstrous grin, returns in like +manner as we go jolting and wallowing away, through the mud.</p> +<p>At Piacenza, which was four or five hours’ journey from +the inn at Stradella, we broke up our little company before the +hotel door, with divers manifestations of friendly feeling on all +sides. The old priest was taken with the cramp again, +before he had got half-way down the street; and the young priest +laid the bundle of books on a door-step, while he dutifully +rubbed the old gentleman’s legs. The client of the +Avvocáto was waiting for him at the yard-gate, and kissed +him on each cheek, with such a resounding smack, that I am afraid +he had either a very bad case, or a scantily-furnished +purse. The Tuscan, with a cigar in his mouth, went +loitering off, carrying his hat in his hand that he might the +better trail up the ends of his dishevelled moustache. And +the brave Courier, as he and I strolled away to look about us, +began immediately to entertain me with the private histories and +family affairs of the whole party.</p> +<p>A brown, decayed, old town, Piacenza is. A deserted, +solitary, grass-grown place, with ruined ramparts; half filled-up +trenches, which afford a frowsy pasturage to the lean kine that +wander about them; and streets of stern houses, moodily frowning +at the other houses over the way. The sleepiest and +shabbiest of soldiery go wandering about, with the double curse +of laziness and poverty, uncouthly wrinkling their misfitting +regimentals; the dirtiest of children play with their impromptu +toys (pigs and mud) in the feeblest of gutters; and the gauntest +of dogs trot in and out of the dullest of archways, in perpetual +search of something to eat, which they never seem to find. +A mysterious and solemn Palace, guarded by two colossal statues, +twin Genii of the place, stands gravely in the midst of the idle +town; and the king with the marble legs, who flourished in the +time of the thousand and one Nights, might live contentedly +inside of it, and never have the energy, in his upper half of +flesh and blood, to want to come out.</p> +<p>What a strange, half-sorrowful and half-delicious doze it is, +to ramble through these places gone to sleep and basking in the +sun! Each, in its turn, appears to be, of all the mouldy, +dreary, God-forgotten towns in the wide world, the chief. +Sitting on this hillock where a bastion used to be, and where a +noisy fortress was, in the time of the old Roman station here, I +became aware that I have never known till now, what it is to be +lazy. A dormouse must surely be in very much the same +condition before he retires under the wool in his cage; or a +tortoise before he buries himself.</p> +<p>I feel that I am getting rusty. That any attempt to +think, would be accompanied with a creaking noise. That +there is nothing, anywhere, to be done, or needing to be +done. That there is no more human progress, motion, effort, +or advancement, of any kind beyond this. That the whole +scheme stopped here centuries ago, and laid down to rest until +the Day of Judgment.</p> +<p>Never while the brave Courier lives! Behold him jingling +out of Piacenza, and staggering this way, in the tallest +posting-chaise ever seen, so that he looks out of the front +window as if he were peeping over a garden wall; while the +postilion, concentrated essence of all the shabbiness of Italy, +pauses for a moment in his animated conversation, to touch his +hat to a blunt-nosed little Virgin, hardly less shabby than +himself, enshrined in a plaster Punch’s show outside the +town.</p> +<p>In Genoa, and thereabouts, they train the vines on +trellis-work, supported on square clumsy pillars, which, in +themselves, are anything but picturesque. But, here, they +twine them around trees, and let them trail among the hedges; and +the vineyards are full of trees, regularly planted for this +purpose, each with its own vine twining and clustering about +it. Their leaves are now of the brightest gold and deepest +red; and never was anything so enchantingly graceful and full of +beauty. Through miles of these delightful forms and +colours, the road winds its way. The wild festoons, the +elegant wreaths, and crowns, and garlands of all shapes; the +fairy nets flung over great trees, and making them prisoners in +sport; the tumbled heaps and mounds of exquisite shapes upon the +ground; how rich and beautiful they are! And every now and +then, a long, long line of trees, will be all bound and garlanded +together: as if they had taken hold of one another, and were +coming dancing down the field!</p> +<p>Parma has cheerful, stirring streets, for an Italian town; and +consequently is not so characteristic as many places of less +note. Always excepting the retired Piazza, where the +Cathedral, Baptistery, and Campanile—ancient buildings, of +a sombre brown, embellished with innumerable grotesque monsters +and dreamy-looking creatures carved in marble and red +stone—are clustered in a noble and magnificent +repose. Their silent presence was only invaded, when I saw +them, by the twittering of the many birds that were flying in and +out of the crevices in the stones and little nooks in the +architecture, where they had made their nests. They were +busy, rising from the cold shade of Temples made with hands, into +the sunny air of Heaven. Not so the worshippers within, who +were listening to the same drowsy chaunt, or kneeling before the +same kinds of images and tapers, or whispering, with their heads +bowed down, in the selfsame dark confessionals, as I had left in +Genoa and everywhere else.</p> +<p>The decayed and mutilated paintings with which this church is +covered, have, to my thinking, a remarkably mournful and +depressing influence. It is miserable to see great works of +art—something of the Souls of Painters—perishing and +fading away, like human forms. This cathedral is odorous +with the rotting of Correggio’s frescoes in the +Cupola. Heaven knows how beautiful they may have been at +one time. Connoisseurs fall into raptures with them now; +but such a labyrinth of arms and legs: such heaps of +foreshortened limbs, entangled and involved and jumbled together: +no operative surgeon, gone mad, could imagine in his wildest +delirium.</p> +<p>There is a very interesting subterranean church here: the roof +supported by marble pillars, behind each of which there seemed to +be at least one beggar in ambush: to say nothing of the tombs and +secluded altars. From every one of these lurking-places, +such crowds of phantom-looking men and women, leading other men +and women with twisted limbs, or chattering jaws, or paralytic +gestures, or idiotic heads, or some other sad infirmity, came +hobbling out to beg, that if the ruined frescoes in the cathedral +above, had been suddenly animated, and had retired to this lower +church, they could hardly have made a greater confusion, or +exhibited a more confounding display of arms and legs.</p> +<p>There is Petrarch’s Monument, too; and there is the +Baptistery, with its beautiful arches and immense font; and there +is a gallery containing some very remarkable pictures, whereof a +few were being copied by hairy-faced artists, with little velvet +caps more off their heads than on. There is the Farnese +Palace, too; and in it one of the dreariest spectacles of decay +that ever was seen—a grand, old, gloomy theatre, mouldering +away.</p> +<p>It is a large wooden structure, of the horse-shoe shape; the +lower seats arranged upon the Roman plan, but above them, great +heavy chambers; rather than boxes, where the Nobles sat, remote +in their proud state. Such desolation as has fallen on this +theatre, enhanced in the spectator’s fancy by its gay +intention and design, none but worms can be familiar with. +A hundred and ten years have passed, since any play was acted +here. The sky shines in through the gashes in the roof; the +boxes are dropping down, wasting away, and only tenanted by rats; +damp and mildew smear the faded colours, and make spectral maps +upon the panels; lean rags are dangling down where there were gay +festoons on the Proscenium; the stage has rotted so, that a +narrow wooden gallery is thrown across it, or it would sink +beneath the tread, and bury the visitor in the gloomy depth +beneath. The desolation and decay impress themselves on all +the senses. The air has a mouldering smell, and an earthy +taste; any stray outer sounds that straggle in with some lost +sunbeam, are muffled and heavy; and the worm, the maggot, and the +rot have changed the surface of the wood beneath the touch, as +time will seam and roughen a smooth hand. If ever Ghosts +act plays, they act them on this ghostly stage.</p> +<p>It was most delicious weather, when we came into Modena, where +the darkness of the sombre colonnades over the footways skirting +the main street on either side, was made refreshing and agreeable +by the bright sky, so wonderfully blue. I passed from all +the glory of the day, into a dim cathedral, where High Mass was +performing, feeble tapers were burning, people were kneeling in +all directions before all manner of shrines, and officiating +priests were crooning the usual chant, in the usual, low, dull, +drawling, melancholy tone.</p> +<p>Thinking how strange it was, to find, in every stagnant town, +this same Heart beating with the same monotonous pulsation, the +centre of the same torpid, listless system, I came out by another +door, and was suddenly scared to death by a blast from the +shrillest trumpet that ever was blown. Immediately, came +tearing round the corner, an equestrian company from Paris: +marshalling themselves under the walls of the church, and +flouting, with their horses’ heels, the griffins, lions, +tigers, and other monsters in stone and marble, decorating its +exterior. First, there came a stately nobleman with a great +deal of hair, and no hat, bearing an enormous banner, on which +was inscribed, <span class="smcap">Mazeppa</span>! <span +class="smcap">to-night</span>! Then, a Mexican chief, with +a great pear-shaped club on his shoulder, like Hercules. +Then, six or eight Roman chariots: each with a beautiful lady in +extremely short petticoats, and unnaturally pink tights, erect +within: shedding beaming looks upon the crowd, in which there was +a latent expression of discomposure and anxiety, for which I +couldn’t account, until, as the open back of each chariot +presented itself, I saw the immense difficulty with which the +pink legs maintained their perpendicular, over the uneven +pavement of the town: which gave me quite a new idea of the +ancient Romans and Britons. The procession was brought to a +close, by some dozen indomitable warriors of different nations, +riding two and two, and haughtily surveying the tame population +of Modena: among whom, however, they occasionally condescended to +scatter largesse in the form of a few handbills. After +caracolling among the lions and tigers, and proclaiming that +evening’s entertainments with blast of trumpet, it then +filed off, by the other end of the square, and left a new and +greatly increased dulness behind.</p> +<p>When the procession had so entirely passed away, that the +shrill trumpet was mild in the distance, and the tail of the last +horse was hopelessly round the corner, the people who had come +out of the church to stare at it, went back again. But one +old lady, kneeling on the pavement within, near the door, had +seen it all, and had been immensely interested, without getting +up; and this old lady’s eye, at that juncture, I happened +to catch: to our mutual confusion. She cut our +embarrassment very short, however, by crossing herself devoutly, +and going down, at full length, on her face, before a figure in a +fancy petticoat and a gilt crown; which was so like one of the +procession-figures, that perhaps at this hour she may think the +whole appearance a celestial vision. Anyhow, I must +certainly have forgiven her her interest in the Circus, though I +had been her Father Confessor.</p> +<p>There was a little fiery-eyed old man with a crooked shoulder, +in the cathedral, who took it very ill that I made no effort to +see the bucket (kept in an old tower) which the people of Modena +took away from the people of Bologna in the fourteenth century, +and about which there was war made and a mock-heroic poem by +<span class="smcap">Tassone</span>, too. Being quite +content, however, to look at the outside of the tower, and feast, +in imagination, on the bucket within; and preferring to loiter in +the shade of the tall Campanile, and about the cathedral; I have +no personal knowledge of this bucket, even at the present +time.</p> +<p>Indeed, we were at Bologna, before the little old man (or the +Guide-Book) would have considered that we had half done justice +to the wonders of Modena. But it is such a delight to me to +leave new scenes behind, and still go on, encountering newer +scenes—and, moreover, I have such a perverse disposition in +respect of sights that are cut, and dried, and +dictated—that I fear I sin against similar authorities in +every place I visit.</p> +<p>Be this as it may, in the pleasant Cemetery at Bologna, I +found myself walking next Sunday morning, among the stately +marble tombs and colonnades, in company with a crowd of Peasants, +and escorted by a little Cicerone of that town, who was +excessively anxious for the honour of the place, and most +solicitous to divert my attention from the bad monuments: whereas +he was never tired of extolling the good ones. Seeing this +little man (a good-humoured little man he was, who seemed to have +nothing in his face but shining teeth and eyes) looking wistfully +at a certain plot of grass, I asked him who was buried +there. ‘The poor people, Signore,’ he said, +with a shrug and a smile, and stopping to look back at +me—for he always went on a little before, and took off his +hat to introduce every new monument. ‘Only the poor, +Signore! It’s very cheerful. It’s very +lively. How green it is, how cool! It’s like a +meadow! There are five,’—holding up all the +fingers of his right hand to express the number, which an Italian +peasant will always do, if it be within the compass of his ten +fingers,—‘there are five of my little children buried +there, Signore; just there; a little to the right. +Well! Thanks to God! It’s very cheerful. +How green it is, how cool it is! It’s quite a +meadow!’</p> +<p>He looked me very hard in the face, and seeing I was sorry for +him, took a pinch of snuff (every Cicerone takes snuff), and made +a little bow; partly in deprecation of his having alluded to such +a subject, and partly in memory of the children and of his +favourite saint. It was as unaffected and as perfectly +natural a little bow, as ever man made. Immediately +afterwards, he took his hat off altogether, and begged to +introduce me to the next monument; and his eyes and his teeth +shone brighter than before.</p> +<h2><a name="page272"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +272</span>THROUGH BOLOGNA AND FERRARA</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> was such a very smart +official in attendance at the Cemetery where the little Cicerone +had buried his children, that when the little Cicerone suggested +to me, in a whisper, that there would be no offence in presenting +this officer, in return for some slight extra service, with a +couple of pauls (about tenpence, English money), I looked +incredulously at his cocked hat, wash-leather gloves, well-made +uniform, and dazzling buttons, and rebuked the little Cicerone +with a grave shake of the head. For, in splendour of +appearance, he was at least equal to the Deputy Usher of the +Black Rod; and the idea of his carrying, as Jeremy Diddler would +say, ‘such a thing as tenpence’ away with him, seemed +monstrous. He took it in excellent part, however, when I +made bold to give it him, and pulled off his cocked hat with a +flourish that would have been a bargain at double the money.</p> +<p>It seemed to be his duty to describe the monuments to the +people—at all events he was doing so; and when I compared +him, like Gulliver in Brobdingnag, ‘with the Institutions +of my own beloved country, I could not refrain from tears of +pride and exultation.’ He had no pace at all; no more +than a tortoise. He loitered as the people loitered, that +they might gratify their curiosity; and positively allowed them, +now and then, to read the inscriptions on the tombs. He was +neither shabby, nor insolent, nor churlish, nor ignorant. +He spoke his own language with perfect propriety, and seemed to +consider himself, in his way, a kind of teacher of the people, +and to entertain a just respect both for himself and them. +They would no more have such a man for a Verger in Westminster +Abbey, than they would let the people in (as they do at Bologna) +to see the monuments for nothing. <a name="citation272"></a><a +href="#footnote272" class="citation">[272]</a></p> +<p>Again, an ancient sombre town, under the brilliant sky; with +heavy arcades over the footways of the older streets, and lighter +and more cheerful archways in the newer portions of the +town. Again, brown piles of sacred buildings, with more +birds flying in and out of chinks in the stones; and more +snarling monsters for the bases of the pillars. Again, rich +churches, drowsy Masses, curling incense, tinkling bells, priests +in bright vestments: pictures, tapers, laced altar cloths, +crosses, images, and artificial flowers.</p> +<p>There is a grave and learned air about the city, and a +pleasant gloom upon it, that would leave it, a distinct and +separate impression in the mind, among a crowd of cities, though +it were not still further marked in the traveller’s +remembrance by the two brick leaning towers (sufficiently +unsightly in themselves, it must be acknowledged), inclining +cross-wise as if they were bowing stiffly to each other—a +most extraordinary termination to the perspective of some of the +narrow streets. The colleges, and churches too, and +palaces: and above all the academy of Fine Arts, where there are +a host of interesting pictures, especially by <span +class="smcap">Guido</span>, <span +class="smcap">Domenichino</span>, and <span +class="smcap">Ludovico Caracci</span>: give it a place of its own +in the memory. Even though these were not, and there were +nothing else to remember it by, the great Meridian on the +pavement of the church of San Petronio, where the sunbeams mark +the time among the kneeling people, would give it a fanciful and +pleasant interest.</p> +<p>Bologna being very full of tourists, detained there by an +inundation which rendered the road to Florence impassable, I was +quartered up at the top of an hotel, in an out-of-the-way room +which I never could find: containing a bed, big enough for a +boarding-school, which I couldn’t fall asleep in. The +chief among the waiters who visited this lonely retreat, where +there was no other company but the swallows in the broad eaves +over the window, was a man of one idea in connection with the +English; and the subject of this harmless monomania, was Lord +Byron. I made the discovery by accidentally remarking to +him, at breakfast, that the matting with which the floor was +covered, was very comfortable at that season, when he immediately +replied that Milor Beeron had been much attached to that kind of +matting. Observing, at the same moment, that I took no +milk, he exclaimed with enthusiasm, that Milor Beeron had never +touched it. At first, I took it for granted, in my +innocence, that he had been one of the Beeron servants; but no, +he said, no, he was in the habit of speaking about my Lord, to +English gentlemen; that was all. He knew all about him, he +said. In proof of it, he connected him with every possible +topic, from the Monte Pulciano wine at dinner (which was grown on +an estate he had owned), to the big bed itself, which was the +very model of his. When I left the inn, he coupled with his +final bow in the yard, a parting assurance that the road by which +I was going, had been Milor Beeron’s favourite ride; and +before the horse’s feet had well begun to clatter on the +pavement, he ran briskly up-stairs again, I dare say to tell some +other Englishman in some other solitary room that the guest who +had just departed was Lord Beeron’s living image.</p> +<p>I had entered Bologna by night—almost midnight—and +all along the road thither, after our entrance into the Papal +territory: which is not, in any part, supremely well governed, +Saint Peter’s keys being rather rusty now; the driver had +so worried about the danger of robbers in travelling after dark, +and had so infected the brave Courier, and the two had been so +constantly stopping and getting up and down to look after a +portmanteau which was tied on behind, that I should have felt +almost obliged to any one who would have had the goodness to take +it away. Hence it was stipulated, that, whenever we left +Bologna, we should start so as not to arrive at Ferrara later +than eight at night; and a delightful afternoon and evening +journey it was, albeit through a flat district which gradually +became more marshy from the overflow of brooks and rivers in the +recent heavy rains.</p> +<p>At sunset, when I was walking on alone, while the horses +rested, I arrived upon a little scene, which, by one of those +singular mental operations of which we are all conscious, seemed +perfectly familiar to me, and which I see distinctly now. +There was not much in it. In the blood red light, there was +a mournful sheet of water, just stirred by the evening wind; upon +its margin a few trees. In the foreground was a group of +silent peasant girls leaning over the parapet of a little bridge, +and looking, now up at the sky, now down into the water; in the +distance, a deep bell; the shade of approaching night on +everything. If I had been murdered there, in some former +life, I could not have seemed to remember the place more +thoroughly, or with a more emphatic chilling of the blood; and +the mere remembrance of it acquired in that minute, is so +strengthened by the imaginary recollection, that I hardly think I +could forget it.</p> +<p>More solitary, more depopulated, more deserted, old Ferrara, +than any city of the solemn brotherhood! The grass so grows +up in the silent streets, that any one might make hay there, +literally, while the sun shines. But the sun shines with +diminished cheerfulness in grim Ferrara; and the people are so +few who pass and re-pass through the places, that the flesh of +its inhabitants might be grass indeed, and growing in the +squares.</p> +<p>I wonder why the head coppersmith in an Italian town, always +lives next door to the Hotel, or opposite: making the visitor +feel as if the beating hammers were his own heart, palpitating +with a deadly energy! I wonder why jealous corridors +surround the bedroom on all sides, and fill it with unnecessary +doors that can’t be shut, and will not open, and abut on +pitchy darkness! I wonder why it is not enough that these +distrustful genii stand agape at one’s dreams all night, +but there must also be round open portholes, high in the wall, +suggestive, when a mouse or rat is heard behind the wainscot, of +a somebody scraping the wall with his toes, in his endeavours to +reach one of these portholes and look in! I wonder why the +faggots are so constructed, as to know of no effect but an agony +of heat when they are lighted and replenished, and an agony of +cold and suffocation at all other times! I wonder, above +all, why it is the great feature of domestic architecture in +Italian inns, that all the fire goes up the chimney, except the +smoke!</p> +<p>The answer matters little. Coppersmiths, doors, +portholes, smoke, and faggots, are welcome to me. Give me +the smiling face of the attendant, man or woman; the courteous +manner; the amiable desire to please and to be pleased; the +light-hearted, pleasant, simple air—so many jewels set in +dirt—and I am theirs again to-morrow!</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Ariosto’s</span> house, <span +class="smcap">Tasso’s</span> prison, a rare old Gothic +cathedral, and more churches of course, are the sights of +Ferrara. But the long silent streets, and the dismantled +palaces, where ivy waves in lieu of banners, and where rank weeds +are slowly creeping up the long-untrodden stairs, are the best +sights of all.</p> +<p>The aspect of this dreary town, half an hour before sunrise +one fine morning, when I left it, was as picturesque as it seemed +unreal and spectral. It was no matter that the people were +not yet out of bed; for if they had all been up and busy, they +would have made but little difference in that desert of a +place. It was best to see it, without a single figure in +the picture; a city of the dead, without one solitary +survivor. Pestilence might have ravaged streets, squares, +and market-places; and sack and siege have ruined the old houses, +battered down their doors and windows, and made breaches in their +roofs. In one part, a great tower rose into the air; the +only landmark in the melancholy view. In another, a +prodigious castle, with a moat about it, stood aloof: a sullen +city in itself. In the black dungeons of this castle, +Parisina and her lover were beheaded in the dead of night. +The red light, beginning to shine when I looked back upon it, +stained its walls without, as they have, many a time, been +stained within, in old days; but for any sign of life they gave, +the castle and the city might have been avoided by all human +creatures, from the moment when the axe went down upon the last +of the two lovers: and might have never vibrated to another +sound</p> +<blockquote><p>Beyond the blow that to the block<br /> +Pierced through with forced and sullen shock.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>Coming to the Po, which was greatly swollen, and running +fiercely, we crossed it by a floating bridge of boats, and so +came into the Austrian territory, and resumed our journey: +through a country of which, for some miles, a great part was +under water. The brave Courier and the soldiery had first +quarrelled, for half an hour or more, over our eternal +passport. But this was a daily relaxation with the Brave, +who was always stricken deaf when shabby functionaries in uniform +came, as they constantly did come, plunging out of wooden boxes +to look at it—or in other words to beg—and who, stone +deaf to my entreaties that the man might have a trifle given him, +and we resume our journey in peace, was wont to sit reviling the +functionary in broken English: while the unfortunate man’s +face was a portrait of mental agony framed in the coach window, +from his perfect ignorance of what was being said to his +disparagement.</p> +<p>There was a postilion, in the course of this day’s +journey, as wild and savagely good-looking a vagabond as you +would desire to see. He was a tall, stout-made, +dark-complexioned fellow, with a profusion of shaggy black hair +hanging all over his face, and great black whiskers stretching +down his throat. His dress was a torn suit of rifle green, +garnished here and there with red; a steeple-crowned hat, +innocent of nap, with a broken and bedraggled feather stuck in +the band; and a flaming red neckerchief hanging on his +shoulders. He was not in the saddle, but reposed, quite at +his ease, on a sort of low foot-board in front of the postchaise, +down amongst the horses’ tails—convenient for having +his brains kicked out, at any moment. To this Brigand, the +brave Courier, when we were at a reasonable trot, happened to +suggest the practicability of going faster. He received the +proposal with a perfect yell of derision; brandished his whip +about his head (such a whip! it was more like a home-made bow); +flung up his heels, much higher than the horses; and disappeared, +in a paroxysm, somewhere in the neighbourhood of the +axle-tree. I fully expected to see him lying in the road, a +hundred yards behind, but up came the steeple-crowned hat again, +next minute, and he was seen reposing, as on a sofa, entertaining +himself with the idea, and crying, ‘Ha, ha! what +next! Oh the devil! Faster too! +Shoo—hoo—o—o!’ (This last +ejaculation, an inexpressibly defiant hoot.) Being anxious +to reach our immediate destination that night, I ventured, +by-and-by, to repeat the experiment on my own account. It +produced exactly the same effect. Round flew the whip with +the same scornful flourish, up came the heels, down went the +steeple-crowned hat, and presently he reappeared, reposing as +before and saying to himself, ‘Ha ha! what next! +Faster too! Oh the devil! +Shoo—hoo—o—o!’</p> +<h2><a name="page277"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 277</span>AN +ITALIAN DREAM</h2> +<p>I <span class="smcap">had</span> been travelling, for some +days; resting very little in the night, and never in the +day. The rapid and unbroken succession of novelties that +had passed before me, came back like half-formed dreams; and a +crowd of objects wandered in the greatest confusion through my +mind, as I travelled on, by a solitary road. At intervals, +some one among them would stop, as it were, in its restless +flitting to and fro, and enable me to look at it, quite steadily, +and behold it in full distinctness. After a few moments, it +would dissolve, like a view in a magic-lantern; and while I saw +some part of it quite plainly, and some faintly, and some not at +all, would show me another of the many places I had lately seen, +lingering behind it, and coming through it. This was no +sooner visible than, in its turn, it melted into something +else.</p> +<p>At one moment, I was standing again, before the brown old +rugged churches of Modena. As I recognised the curious +pillars with grim monsters for their bases, I seemed to see them, +standing by themselves in the quiet square at Padua, where there +were the staid old University, and the figures, demurely gowned, +grouped here and there in the open space about it. Then, I +was strolling in the outskirts of that pleasant city, admiring +the unusual neatness of the dwelling-houses, gardens, and +orchards, as I had seen them a few hours before. In their +stead arose, immediately, the two towers of Bologna; and the most +obstinate of all these objects, failed to hold its ground, a +minute, before the monstrous moated castle of Ferrara, which, +like an illustration to a wild romance, came back again in the +red sunrise, lording it over the solitary, grass-grown, withered +town. In short, I had that incoherent but delightful jumble +in my brain, which travellers are apt to have, and are indolently +willing to encourage. Every shake of the coach in which I +sat, half dozing in the dark, appeared to jerk some new +recollection out of its place, and to jerk some other new +recollection into it; and in this state I fell asleep.</p> +<p>I was awakened after some time (as I thought) by the stopping +of the coach. It was now quite night, and we were at the +waterside. There lay here, a black boat, with a little +house or cabin in it of the same mournful colour. When I +had taken my seat in this, the boat was paddled, by two men, +towards a great light, lying in the distance on the sea.</p> +<p>Ever and again, there was a dismal sigh of wind. It +ruffled the water, and rocked the boat, and sent the dark clouds +flying before the stars. I could not but think how strange +it was, to be floating away at that hour: leaving the land +behind, and going on, towards this light upon the sea. It +soon began to burn brighter; and from being one light became a +cluster of tapers, twinkling and shining out of the water, as the +boat approached towards them by a dreamy kind of track, marked +out upon the sea by posts and piles.</p> +<p>We had floated on, five miles or so, over the dark water, when +I heard it rippling in my dream, against some obstruction near at +hand. Looking out attentively, I saw, through the gloom, a +something black and massive—like a shore, but lying close +and flat upon the water, like a raft—which we were gliding +past. The chief of the two rowers said it was a +burial-place.</p> +<p>Full of the interest and wonder which a cemetery lying out +there, in the lonely sea, inspired, I turned to gaze upon it as +it should recede in our path, when it was quickly shut out from +my view. Before I knew by what, or how, I found that we +were gliding up a street—a phantom street; the houses +rising on both sides, from the water, and the black boat gliding +on beneath their windows. Lights were shining from some of +these casements, plumbing the depth of the black stream with +their reflected rays, but all was profoundly silent.</p> +<p>So we advanced into this ghostly city, continuing to hold our +course through narrow streets and lanes, all filled and flowing +with water. Some of the corners where our way branched off, +were so acute and narrow, that it seemed impossible for the long +slender boat to turn them; but the rowers, with a low melodious +cry of warning, sent it skimming on without a pause. +Sometimes, the rowers of another black boat like our own, echoed +the cry, and slackening their speed (as I thought we did ours) +would come flitting past us like a dark shadow. Other +boats, of the same sombre hue, were lying moored, I thought, to +painted pillars, near to dark mysterious doors that opened +straight upon the water. Some of these were empty; in some, +the rowers lay asleep; towards one, I saw some figures coming +down a gloomy archway from the interior of a palace: gaily +dressed, and attended by torch-bearers. It was but a +glimpse I had of them; for a bridge, so low and close upon the +boat that it seemed ready to fall down and crush us: one of the +many bridges that perplexed the Dream: blotted them out, +instantly. On we went, floating towards the heart of this +strange place—with water all about us where never water was +elsewhere—clusters of houses, churches, heaps of stately +buildings growing out of it—and, everywhere, the same +extraordinary silence. Presently, we shot across a broad +and open stream; and passing, as I thought, before a spacious +paved quay, where the bright lamps with which it was illuminated +showed long rows of arches and pillars, of ponderous construction +and great strength, but as light to the eye as garlands of +hoarfrost or gossamer—and where, for the first time, I saw +people walking—arrived at a flight of steps leading from +the water to a large mansion, where, having passed through +corridors and galleries innumerable, I lay down to rest; +listening to the black boats stealing up and down below the +window on the rippling water, till I fell asleep.</p> +<p>The glory of the day that broke upon me in this Dream; its +freshness, motion, buoyancy; its sparkles of the sun in water; +its clear blue sky and rustling air; no waking words can +tell. But, from my window, I looked down on boats and +barks; on masts, sails, cordage, flags; on groups of busy +sailors, working at the cargoes of these vessels; on wide quays, +strewn with bales, casks, merchandise of many kinds; on great +ships, lying near at hand in stately indolence; on islands, +crowned with gorgeous domes and turrets: and where golden crosses +glittered in the light, atop of wondrous churches, springing from +the sea! Going down upon the margin of the green sea, +rolling on before the door, and filling all the streets, I came +upon a place of such surpassing beauty, and such grandeur, that +all the rest was poor and faded, in comparison with its absorbing +loveliness.</p> +<p>It was a great Piazza, as I thought; anchored, like all the +rest, in the deep ocean. On its broad bosom, was a Palace, +more majestic and magnificent in its old age, than all the +buildings of the earth, in the high prime and fulness of their +youth. Cloisters and galleries: so light, they might have +been the work of fairy hands: so strong that centuries had +battered them in vain: wound round and round this palace, and +enfolded it with a Cathedral, gorgeous in the wild luxuriant +fancies of the East. At no great distance from its porch, a +lofty tower, standing by itself, and rearing its proud head, +alone, into the sky, looked out upon the Adriatic Sea. Near +to the margin of the stream, were two ill-omened pillars of red +granite; one having on its top, a figure with a sword and shield; +the other, a winged lion. Not far from these again, a +second tower: richest of the rich in all its decorations: even +here, where all was rich: sustained aloft, a great orb, gleaming +with gold and deepest blue: the Twelve Signs painted on it, and a +mimic sun revolving in its course around them: while above, two +bronze giants hammered out the hours upon a sounding bell. +An oblong square of lofty houses of the whitest stone, surrounded +by a light and beautiful arcade, formed part of this enchanted +scene; and, here and there, gay masts for flags rose, tapering, +from the pavement of the unsubstantial ground.</p> +<p>I thought I entered the Cathedral, and went in and out among +its many arches: traversing its whole extent. A grand and +dreamy structure, of immense proportions; golden with old +mosaics; redolent of perfumes; dim with the smoke of incense; +costly in treasure of precious stones and metals, glittering +through iron bars; holy with the bodies of deceased saints; +rainbow-hued with windows of stained glass; dark with carved +woods and coloured marbles; obscure in its vast heights, and +lengthened distances; shining with silver lamps and winking +lights; unreal, fantastic, solemn, inconceivable +throughout. I thought I entered the old palace; pacing +silent galleries and council-chambers, where the old rulers of +this mistress of the waters looked sternly out, in pictures, from +the walls, and where her high-prowed galleys, still victorious on +canvas, fought and conquered as of old. I thought I +wandered through its halls of state and triumph—bare and +empty now!—and musing on its pride and might, extinct: for +that was past; all past: heard a voice say, ‘Some tokens of +its ancient rule and some consoling reasons for its downfall, may +be traced here, yet!’</p> +<p>I dreamed that I was led on, then, into some jealous rooms, +communicating with a prison near the palace; separated from it by +a lofty bridge crossing a narrow street; and called, I dreamed, +The Bridge of Sighs.</p> +<p>But first I passed two jagged slits in a stone wall; the +lions’ mouths—now toothless—where, in the +distempered horror of my sleep, I thought denunciations of +innocent men to the old wicked Council, had been dropped through, +many a time, when the night was dark. So, when I saw the +council-room to which such prisoners were taken for examination, +and the door by which they passed out, when they were +condemned—a door that never closed upon a man with life and +hope before him—my heart appeared to die within me.</p> +<p>It was smitten harder though, when, torch in hand, I descended +from the cheerful day into two ranges, one below another, of +dismal, awful, horrible stone cells. They were quite +dark. Each had a loop-hole in its massive wall, where, in +the old time, every day, a torch was placed—I +dreamed—to light the prisoner within, for half an +hour. The captives, by the glimmering of these brief rays, +had scratched and cut inscriptions in the blackened vaults. +I saw them. For their labour with a rusty nail’s +point, had outlived their agony and them, through many +generations.</p> +<p>One cell, I saw, in which no man remained for more than +four-and-twenty hours; being marked for dead before he entered +it. Hard by, another, and a dismal one, whereto, at +midnight, the confessor came—a monk brown-robed, and +hooded—ghastly in the day, and free bright air, but in the +midnight of that murky prison, Hope’s extinguisher, and +Murder’s herald. I had my foot upon the spot, where, +at the same dread hour, the shriven prisoner was strangled; and +struck my hand upon the guilty door—low-browed and +stealthy—through which the lumpish sack was carried out +into a boat, and rowed away, and drowned where it was death to +cast a net.</p> +<p>Around this dungeon stronghold, and above some part of it: +licking the rough walls without, and smearing them with damp and +slime within: stuffing dank weeds and refuse into chinks and +crevices, as if the very stones and bars had mouths to stop: +furnishing a smooth road for the removal of the bodies of the +secret victims of the State—a road so ready that it went +along with them, and ran before them, like a cruel +officer—flowed the same water that filled this Dream of +mine, and made it seem one, even at the time.</p> +<p>Descending from the palace by a staircase, called, I thought, +the Giant’s—I had some imaginary recollection of an +old man abdicating, coming, more slowly and more feebly, down it, +when he heard the bell, proclaiming his successor—I glided +off, in one of the dark boats, until we came to an old arsenal +guarded by four marble lions. To make my Dream more +monstrous and unlikely, one of these had words and sentences upon +its body, inscribed there, at an unknown time, and in an unknown +language; so that their purport was a mystery to all men.</p> +<p>There was little sound of hammers in this place for building +ships, and little work in progress; for the greatness of the city +was no more, as I have said. Indeed, it seemed a very wreck +found drifting on the sea; a strange flag hoisted in its +honourable stations, and strangers standing at its helm. A +splendid barge in which its ancient chief had gone forth, +pompously, at certain periods, to wed the ocean, lay here, I +thought, no more; but, in its place, there was a tiny model, made +from recollection like the city’s greatness; and it told of +what had been (so are the strong and weak confounded in the dust) +almost as eloquently as the massive pillars, arches, roofs, +reared to overshadow stately ships that had no other shadow now, +upon the water or the earth.</p> +<p>An armoury was there yet. Plundered and despoiled; but +an armoury. With a fierce standard taken from the Turks, +drooping in the dull air of its cage. Rich suits of mail +worn by great warriors were hoarded there; crossbows and bolts; +quivers full of arrows; spears; swords, daggers, maces, shields, +and heavy-headed axes. Plates of wrought steel and iron, to +make the gallant horse a monster cased in metal scales; and one +spring-weapon (easy to be carried in the breast) designed to do +its office noiselessly, and made for shooting men with poisoned +darts.</p> +<p>One press or case I saw, full of accursed instruments of +torture horribly contrived to cramp, and pinch, and grind and +crush men’s bones, and tear and twist them with the torment +of a thousand deaths. Before it, were two iron helmets, +with breast-pieces: made to close up tight and smooth upon the +heads of living sufferers; and fastened on to each, was a small +knob or anvil, where the directing devil could repose his elbow +at his ease, and listen, near the walled-up ear, to the +lamentations and confessions of the wretch within. There +was that grim resemblance in them to the human shape—they +were such moulds of sweating faces, pained and cramped—that +it was difficult to think them empty; and terrible distortions +lingering within them, seemed to follow me, when, taking to my +boat again, I rowed off to a kind of garden or public walk in the +sea, where there were grass and trees. But I forgot them +when I stood upon its farthest brink—I stood there, in my +dream—and looked, along the ripple, to the setting sun; +before me, in the sky and on the deep, a crimson flush; and +behind me the whole city resolving into streaks of red and +purple, on the water.</p> +<p>In the luxurious wonder of so rare a dream, I took but little +heed of time, and had but little understanding of its +flight. But there were days and nights in it; and when the +sun was high, and when the rays of lamps were crooked in the +running water, I was still afloat, I thought: plashing the +slippery walls and houses with the cleavings of the tide, as my +black boat, borne upon it, skimmed along the streets.</p> +<p>Sometimes, alighting at the doors of churches and vast +palaces, I wandered on, from room to room, from aisle to aisle, +through labyrinths of rich altars, ancient monuments; decayed +apartments where the furniture, half awful, half grotesque, was +mouldering away. Pictures were there, replete with such +enduring beauty and expression: with such passion, truth and +power: that they seemed so many young and fresh realities among a +host of spectres. I thought these, often intermingled with +the old days of the city: with its beauties, tyrants, captains, +patriots, merchants, counters, priests: nay, with its very +stones, and bricks, and public places; all of which lived again, +about me, on the walls. Then, coming down some marble +staircase where the water lapped and oozed against the lower +steps, I passed into my boat again, and went on in my dream.</p> +<p>Floating down narrow lanes, where carpenters, at work with +plane and chisel in their shops, tossed the light shaving +straight upon the water, where it lay like weed, or ebbed away +before me in a tangled heap. Past open doors, decayed and +rotten from long steeping in the wet, through which some scanty +patch of vine shone green and bright, making unusual shadows on +the pavement with its trembling leaves. Past quays and +terraces, where women, gracefully veiled, were passing and +repassing, and where idlers were reclining in the sunshine, on +flag-stones and on flights of steps. Past bridges, where +there were idlers too; loitering and looking over. Below +stone balconies, erected at a giddy height, before the loftiest +windows of the loftiest houses. Past plots of garden, +theatres, shrines, prodigious piles of +architecture—Gothic—Saracenic—fanciful with all +the fancies of all times and countries. Past buildings that +were high, and low, and black, and white, and straight, and +crooked; mean and grand, crazy and strong. Twining among a +tangled lot of boats and barges, and shooting out at last into a +Grand Canal! There, in the errant fancy of my dream, I saw +old Shylock passing to and fro upon a bridge, all built upon with +shops and humming with the tongues of men; a form I seemed to +know for Desdemona’s, leaned down through a latticed blind +to pluck a flower. And, in the dream, I thought that +Shakespeare’s spirit was abroad upon the water somewhere: +stealing through the city.</p> +<p>At night, when two votive lamps burnt before an image of the +Virgin, in a gallery outside the great cathedral, near the roof, +I fancied that the great piazza of the Winged Lion was a blaze of +cheerful light, and that its whole arcade was thronged with +people; while crowds were diverting themselves in splendid +coffee-houses opening from it—which were never shut, I +thought, but open all night long. When the bronze giants +struck the hour of midnight on the bell, I thought the life and +animation of the city were all centred here; and as I rowed away, +abreast the silent quays, I only saw them dotted, here and there, +with sleeping boatmen wrapped up in their cloaks, and lying at +full length upon the stones.</p> +<p>But close about the quays and churches, palaces and prisons +sucking at their walls, and welling up into the secret places of +the town: crept the water always. Noiseless and watchful: +coiled round and round it, in its many folds, like an old +serpent: waiting for the time, I thought, when people should look +down into its depths for any stone of the old city that had +claimed to be its mistress.</p> +<p>Thus it floated me away, until I awoke in the old market-place +at Verona. I have, many and many a time, thought since, of +this strange Dream upon the water: half-wondering if it lie there +yet, and if its name be <span class="smcap">Venice</span>.</p> +<h2><a name="page284"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 284</span>BY +VERONA, MANTUA, AND MILAN, ACROSS THE PASS OF THE SIMPLON INTO +SWITZERLAND</h2> +<p>I <span class="smcap">had</span> been half afraid to go to +Verona, lest it should at all put me out of conceit with Romeo +and Juliet. But, I was no sooner come into the old +market-place, than the misgiving vanished. It is so +fanciful, quaint, and picturesque a place, formed by such an +extraordinary and rich variety of fantastic buildings, that there +could be nothing better at the core of even this romantic town: +scene of one of the most romantic and beautiful of stories.</p> +<p>It was natural enough, to go straight from the Market-place, +to the House of the Capulets, now degenerated into a most +miserable little inn. Noisy vetturíni and muddy +market-carts were disputing possession of the yard, which was +ankle-deep in dirt, with a brood of splashed and bespattered +geese; and there was a grim-visaged dog, viciously panting in a +doorway, who would certainly have had Romeo by the leg, the +moment he put it over the wall, if he had existed and been at +large in those times. The orchard fell into other hands, +and was parted off many years ago; but there used to be one +attached to the house—or at all events there may have, +been,—and the hat (Cappêllo) the ancient cognizance +of the family, may still be seen, carved in stone, over the +gateway of the yard. The geese, the market-carts, their +drivers, and the dog, were somewhat in the way of the story, it +must be confessed; and it would have been pleasanter to have +found the house empty, and to have been able to walk through the +disused rooms. But the hat was unspeakably comfortable; and +the place where the garden used to be, hardly less so. +Besides, the house is a distrustful, jealous-looking house as one +would desire to see, though of a very moderate size. So I +was quite satisfied with it, as the veritable mansion of old +Capulet, and was correspondingly grateful in my acknowledgments +to an extremely unsentimental middle-aged lady, the Padrona of +the Hotel, who was lounging on the threshold looking at the +geese; and who at least resembled the Capulets in the one +particular of being very great indeed in the ‘Family’ +way.</p> +<p>From Juliet’s home, to Juliet’s tomb, is a +transition as natural to the visitor, as to fair Juliet herself, +or to the proudest Juliet that ever has taught the torches to +burn bright in any time. So, I went off, with a guide, to +an old, old garden, once belonging to an old, old convent, I +suppose; and being admitted, at a shattered gate, by a +bright-eyed woman who was washing clothes, went down some walks +where fresh plants and young flowers were prettily growing among +fragments of old wall, and ivy-coloured mounds; and was shown a +little tank, or water-trough, which the bright-eyed +woman—drying her arms upon her ‘kerchief, called +‘La tomba di Giulietta la sfortunáta.’ +With the best disposition in the world to believe, I could do no +more than believe that the bright-eyed woman believed; so I gave +her that much credit, and her customary fee in ready money. +It was a pleasure, rather than a disappointment, that +Juliet’s resting-place was forgotten. However +consolatory it may have been to Yorick’s Ghost, to hear the +feet upon the pavement overhead, and, twenty times a day, the +repetition of his name, it is better for Juliet to lie out of the +track of tourists, and to have no visitors but such as come to +graves in spring-rain, and sweet air, and sunshine.</p> +<p>Pleasant Verona! With its beautiful old palaces, and +charming country in the distance, seen from terrace walks, and +stately, balustraded galleries. With its Roman gates, still +spanning the fair street, and casting, on the sunlight of to-day, +the shade of fifteen hundred years ago. With its +marble-fitted churches, lofty towers, rich architecture, and +quaint old quiet thoroughfares, where shouts of Montagues and +Capulets once resounded,</p> +<blockquote><p>And made Verona’s ancient citizens<br /> +Cast by their grave, beseeming ornaments,<br /> +To wield old partizans.</p> +</blockquote> +<p>With its fast-rushing river, picturesque old bridge, great +castle, waving cypresses, and prospect so delightful, and so +cheerful! Pleasant Verona!</p> +<p>In the midst of it, in the Piazza di Brá—a spirit +of old time among the familiar realities of the passing +hour—is the great Roman Amphitheatre. So well +preserved, and carefully maintained, that every row of seats is +there, unbroken. Over certain of the arches, the old Roman +numerals may yet be seen; and there are corridors, and +staircases, and subterranean passages for beasts, and winding +ways, above ground and below, as when the fierce thousands +hurried in and out, intent upon the bloody shows of the +arena. Nestling in some of the shadows and hollow places of +the walls, now, are smiths with their forges, and a few small +dealers of one kind or other; and there are green weeds, and +leaves, and grass, upon the parapet. But little else is +greatly changed.</p> +<p>When I had traversed all about it, with great interest, and +had gone up to the topmost round of seats, and turning from the +lovely panorama closed in by the distant Alps, looked down into +the building, it seemed to lie before me like the inside of a +prodigious hat of plaited straw, with an enormously broad brim +and a shallow crown; the plaits being represented by the +four-and-forty rows of seats. The comparison is a homely +and fantastic one, in sober remembrance and on paper, but it was +irresistibly suggested at the moment, nevertheless.</p> +<p>An equestrian troop had been there, a short time +before—the same troop, I dare say, that appeared to the old +lady in the church at Modena—and had scooped out a little +ring at one end of the area; where their performances had taken +place, and where the marks of their horses’ feet were still +fresh. I could not but picture to myself, a handful of +spectators gathered together on one or two of the old stone +seats, and a spangled Cavalier being gallant, or a Policinello +funny, with the grim walls looking on. Above all, I thought +how strangely those Roman mutes would gaze upon the favourite +comic scene of the travelling English, where a British nobleman +(Lord John), with a very loose stomach: dressed in a blue-tailed +coat down to his heels, bright yellow breeches, and a white hat: +comes abroad, riding double on a rearing horse, with an English +lady (Lady Betsy) in a straw bonnet and green veil, and a red +spencer; and who always carries a gigantic reticule, and a put-up +parasol.</p> +<p>I walked through and through the town all the rest of the day, +and could have walked there until now, I think. In one +place, there was a very pretty modern theatre, where they had +just performed the opera (always popular in Verona) of Romeo and +Juliet. In another there was a collection, under a +colonnade, of Greek, Roman, and Etruscan remains, presided over +by an ancient man who might have been an Etruscan relic himself; +for he was not strong enough to open the iron gate, when he had +unlocked it, and had neither voice enough to be audible when he +described the curiosities, nor sight enough to see them: he was +so very old. In another place, there was a gallery of +pictures: so abominably bad, that it was quite delightful to see +them mouldering away. But anywhere: in the churches, among +the palaces, in the streets, on the bridge, or down beside the +river: it was always pleasant Verona, and in my remembrance +always will be.</p> +<p>I read Romeo and Juliet in my own room at the inn that +night—of course, no Englishman had ever read it there, +before—and set out for Mantua next day at sunrise, +repeating to myself (in the <i>coupé</i> of an omnibus, +and next to the conductor, who was reading the Mysteries of +Paris),</p> +<blockquote><p>There is no world without Verona’s walls<br +/> +But purgatory, torture, hell itself.<br /> +Hence-banished is banished from the world,<br /> +And world’s exile is death—</p> +</blockquote> +<p>which reminded me that Romeo was only banished five-and-twenty +miles after all, and rather disturbed my confidence in his energy +and boldness.</p> +<p>Was the way to Mantua as beautiful, in his time, I +wonder! Did it wind through pasture land as green, bright +with the same glancing streams, and dotted with fresh clumps of +graceful trees! Those purple mountains lay on the horizon, +then, for certain; and the dresses of these peasant girls, who +wear a great, knobbed, silver pin like an English +‘life-preserver’ through their hair behind, can +hardly be much changed. The hopeful feeling of so bright a +morning, and so exquisite a sunrise, can have been no stranger, +even to an exiled lover’s breast; and Mantua itself must +have broken on him in the prospect, with its towers, and walls, +and water, pretty much as on a commonplace and matrimonial +omnibus. He made the same sharp twists and turns, perhaps, +over two rumbling drawbridges; passed through the like long, +covered, wooden bridge; and leaving the marshy water behind, +approached the rusty gate of stagnant Mantua.</p> +<p>If ever a man were suited to his place of residence, and his +place of residence to him, the lean Apothecary and Mantua came +together in a perfect fitness of things. It may have been +more stirring then, perhaps. If so, the Apothecary was a +man in advance of his time, and knew what Mantua would be, in +eighteen hundred and forty-four. He fasted much, and that +assisted him in his foreknowledge.</p> +<p>I put up at the Hotel of the Golden Lion, and was in my own +room arranging plans with the brave Courier, when there came a +modest little tap at the door, which opened on an outer gallery +surrounding a court-yard; and an intensely shabby little man +looked in, to inquire if the gentleman would have a Cicerone to +show the town. His face was so very wistful and anxious, in +the half-opened doorway, and there was so much poverty expressed +in his faded suit and little pinched hat, and in the thread-bare +worsted glove with which he held it—not expressed the less, +because these were evidently his genteel clothes, hastily slipped +on—that I would as soon have trodden on him as dismissed +him. I engaged him on the instant, and he stepped in +directly.</p> +<p>While I finished the discussion in which I was engaged, he +stood, beaming by himself in a corner, making a feint of brushing +my hat with his arm. If his fee had been as many napoleons +as it was francs, there could not have shot over the twilight of +his shabbiness such a gleam of sun, as lighted up the whole man, +now that he was hired.</p> +<p>‘Well!’ said I, when I was ready, ‘shall we +go out now?’</p> +<p>‘If the gentleman pleases. It is a beautiful +day. A little fresh, but charming; altogether +charming. The gentleman will allow me to open the +door. This is the Inn Yard. The court-yard of the +Golden Lion! The gentleman will please to mind his footing +on the stairs.’</p> +<p>We were now in the street.</p> +<p>‘This is the street of the Golden Lion. This, the +outside of the Golden Lion. The interesting window up +there, on the first Piano, where the pane of glass is broken, is +the window of the gentleman’s chamber!’</p> +<p>Having viewed all these remarkable objects, I inquired if +there were much to see in Mantua.</p> +<p>‘Well! Truly, no. Not much! So, +so,’ he said, shrugging his shoulders apologetically.</p> +<p>‘Many churches?’</p> +<p>‘No. Nearly all suppressed by the +French.’</p> +<p>‘Monasteries or convents?’</p> +<p>‘No. The French again! Nearly all suppressed +by Napoleon.’</p> +<p>‘Much business?’</p> +<p>‘Very little business.’</p> +<p>‘Many strangers?’</p> +<p>‘Ah Heaven!’</p> +<p>I thought he would have fainted.</p> +<p>‘Then, when we have seen the two large churches yonder, +what shall we do next?’ said I.</p> +<p>He looked up the street, and down the street, and rubbed his +chin timidly; and then said, glancing in my face as if a light +had broken on his mind, yet with a humble appeal to my +forbearance that was perfectly irresistible:</p> +<p>‘We can take a little turn about the town, +Signore!’ (Si può far ’un píccolo +gíro della citta).</p> +<p>It was impossible to be anything but delighted with the +proposal, so we set off together in great good-humour. In +the relief of his mind, he opened his heart, and gave up as much +of Mantua as a Cicerone could.</p> +<p>‘One must eat,’ he said; ‘but, bah! it was a +dull place, without doubt!’</p> +<p>He made as much as possible of the Basilica of Santa +Andrea—a noble church—and of an inclosed portion of +the pavement, about which tapers were burning, and a few people +kneeling, and under which is said to be preserved the Sangreal of +the old Romances. This church disposed of, and another +after it (the cathedral of San Pietro), we went to the Museum, +which was shut up. ‘It was all the same,’ he +said. ‘Bah! There was not much +inside!’ Then, we went to see the Piazza del Diavolo, +built by the Devil (for no particular purpose) in a single night; +then, the Piazza Virgiliana; then, the statue of +Virgil—<i>our</i> Poet, my little friend said, plucking up +a spirit, for the moment, and putting his hat a little on one +side. Then, we went to a dismal sort of farm-yard, by which +a picture-gallery was approached. The moment the gate of +this retreat was opened, some five hundred geese came waddling +round us, stretching out their necks, and clamouring in the most +hideous manner, as if they were ejaculating, ‘Oh! +here’s somebody come to see the Pictures! Don’t +go up! Don’t go up!’ While we went up, +they waited very quietly about the door in a crowd, cackling to +one another occasionally, in a subdued tone; but the instant we +appeared again, their necks came out like telescopes, and setting +up a great noise, which meant, I have no doubt, ‘What, you +would go, would you! What do you think of it! How do +you like it!’ they attended us to the outer gate, and cast +us forth, derisively, into Mantua.</p> +<p>The geese who saved the Capitol, were, as compared to these, +Pork to the learned Pig. What a gallery it was! I +would take their opinion on a question of art, in preference to +the discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds.</p> +<p>Now that we were standing in the street, after being thus +ignominiouly escorted thither, my little friend was plainly +reduced to the ‘píccolo gíro,’ or +little circuit of the town, he had formerly proposed. But +my suggestion that we should visit the Palazzo Tè (of +which I had heard a great deal, as a strange wild place) imparted +new life to him, and away we went.</p> +<p>The secret of the length of Midas’s ears, would have +been more extensively known, if that servant of his, who +whispered it to the reeds, had lived in Mantua, where there are +reeds and rushes enough to have published it to all the +world. The Palazzo Tè stands in a swamp, among this +sort of vegetation; and is, indeed, as singular a place as I ever +saw.</p> +<p>Not for its dreariness, though it is very dreary. Not +for its dampness, though it is very damp. Nor for its +desolate condition, though it is as desolate and neglected as +house can be. But chiefly for the unaccountable nightmares +with which its interior has been decorated (among other subjects +of more delicate execution), by Giulio Romano. There is a +leering Giant over a certain chimney-piece, and there are dozens +of Giants (Titans warring with Jove) on the walls of another +room, so inconceivably ugly and grotesque, that it is marvellous +how any man can have imagined such creatures. In the +chamber in which they abound, these monsters, with swollen faces +and cracked cheeks, and every kind of distortion of look and +limb, are depicted as staggering under the weight of falling +buildings, and being overwhelmed in the ruins; upheaving masses +of rock, and burying themselves beneath; vainly striving to +sustain the pillars of heavy roofs that topple down upon their +heads; and, in a word, undergoing and doing every kind of mad and +demoniacal destruction. The figures are immensely large, +and exaggerated to the utmost pitch of uncouthness; the colouring +is harsh and disagreeable; and the whole effect more like (I +should imagine) a violent rush of blood to the head of the +spectator, than any real picture set before him by the hand of an +artist. This apoplectic performance was shown by a +sickly-looking woman, whose appearance was referable, I dare say, +to the bad air of the marshes; but it was difficult to help +feeling as if she were too much haunted by the Giants, and they +were frightening her to death, all alone in that exhausted +cistern of a Palace, among the reeds and rushes, with the mists +hovering about outside, and stalking round and round it +continually.</p> +<p>Our walk through Mantua showed us, in almost every street, +some suppressed church: now used for a warehouse, now for nothing +at all: all as crazy and dismantled as they could be, short of +tumbling down bodily. The marshy town was so intensely dull +and flat, that the dirt upon it seemed not to have come there in +the ordinary course, but to have settled and mantled on its +surface as on standing water. And yet there were some +business-dealings going on, and some profits realising; for there +were arcades full of Jews, where those extraordinary people were +sitting outside their shops, contemplating their stores of +stuffs, and woollens, and bright handkerchiefs, and trinkets: and +looking, in all respects, as wary and business-like, as their +brethren in Houndsditch, London.</p> +<p>Having selected a Vetturíno from among the neighbouring +Christians, who agreed to carry us to Milan in two days and a +half, and to start, next morning, as soon as the gates were +opened, I returned to the Golden Lion, and dined luxuriously in +my own room, in a narrow passage between two bedsteads: +confronted by a smoky fire, and backed up by a chest of +drawers. At six o’clock next morning, we were +jingling in the dark through the wet cold mist that enshrouded +the town; and, before noon, the driver (a native of Mantua, and +sixty years of age or thereabouts) began <i>to ask the way</i> to +Milan.</p> +<p>It lay through Bozzolo; formerly a little republic, and now +one of the most deserted and poverty-stricken of towns: where the +landlord of the miserable inn (God bless him! it was his weekly +custom) was distributing infinitesimal coins among a clamorous +herd of women and children, whose rags were fluttering in the +wind and rain outside his door, where they were gathered to +receive his charity. It lay through mist, and mud, and +rain, and vines trained low upon the ground, all that day and the +next; the first sleeping-place being Cremona, memorable for its +dark brick churches, and immensely high tower, the +Torrazzo—to say nothing of its violins, of which it +certainly produces none in these degenerate days; and the second, +Lodi. Then we went on, through more mud, mist, and rain, +and marshy ground: and through such a fog, as Englishmen, strong +in the faith of their own grievances, are apt to believe is +nowhere to be found but in their own country, until we entered +the paved streets of Milan.</p> +<p>The fog was so dense here, that the spire of the far-famed +Cathedral might as well have been at Bombay, for anything that +could be seen of it at that time. But as we halted to +refresh, for a few days then, and returned to Milan again next +summer, I had ample opportunities of seeing the glorious +structure in all its majesty and beauty.</p> +<p>All Christian homage to the saint who lies within it! +There are many good and true saints in the calendar, but San +Carlo Borromeo has—if I may quote Mrs. Primrose on such a +subject—‘my warm heart.’ A charitable +doctor to the sick, a munificent friend to the poor, and this, +not in any spirit of blind bigotry, but as the bold opponent of +enormous abuses in the Romish church, I honour his memory. +I honour it none the less, because he was nearly slain by a +priest, suborned, by priests, to murder him at the altar: in +acknowledgment of his endeavours to reform a false and +hypocritical brotherhood of monks. Heaven shield all +imitators of San Carlo Borromeo as it shielded him! A +reforming Pope would need a little shielding, even now.</p> +<p>The subterranean chapel in which the body of San Carlo +Borromeo is preserved, presents as striking and as ghastly a +contrast, perhaps, as any place can show. The tapers which +are lighted down there, flash and gleam on alti-rilievi in gold +and silver, delicately wrought by skilful hands, and representing +the principal events in the life of the saint. Jewels, and +precious metals, shine and sparkle on every side. A +windlass slowly removes the front of the altar; and, within it, +in a gorgeous shrine of gold and silver, is seen, through +alabaster, the shrivelled mummy of a man: the pontifical robes +with which it is adorned, radiant with diamonds, emeralds, +rubies: every costly and magnificent gem. The shrunken heap +of poor earth in the midst of this great glitter, is more pitiful +than if it lay upon a dung-hill. There is not a ray of +imprisoned light in all the flash and fire of jewels, but seems +to mock the dusty holes where eyes were, once. Every thread +of silk in the rich vestments seems only a provision from the +worms that spin, for the behoof of worms that propagate in +sepulchres.</p> +<p>In the old refectory of the dilapidated Convent of Santa Maria +delle Grazie, is the work of art, perhaps, better known than any +other in the world: the Last Supper, by Leonardo da +Vinci—with a door cut through it by the intelligent +Dominican friars, to facilitate their operations at +dinner-time.</p> +<p>I am not mechanically acquainted with the art of painting, and +have no other means of judging of a picture than as I see it +resembling and refining upon nature, and presenting graceful +combinations of forms and colours. I am, therefore, no +authority whatever, in reference to the ‘touch’ of +this or that master; though I know very well (as anybody may, who +chooses to think about the matter) that few very great masters +can possibly have painted, in the compass of their lives, +one-half of the pictures that bear their names, and that are +recognised by many aspirants to a reputation for taste, as +undoubted originals. But this, by the way. Of the +Last Supper, I would simply observe, that in its beautiful +composition and arrangement, there it is, at Milan, a wonderful +picture; and that, in its original colouring, or in its original +expression of any single face or feature, there it is not. +Apart from the damage it has sustained from damp, decay, or +neglect, it has been (as Barry shows) so retouched upon, and +repainted, and that so clumsily, that many of the heads are, now, +positive deformities, with patches of paint and plaster sticking +upon them like wens, and utterly distorting the expression. +Where the original artist set that impress of his genius on a +face, which, almost in a line or touch, separated him from meaner +painters and made him what he was, succeeding bunglers, filling +up, or painting across seams and cracks, have been quite unable +to imitate his hand; and putting in some scowls, or frowns, or +wrinkles, of their own, have blotched and spoiled the work. +This is so well established as an historical fact, that I should +not repeat it, at the risk of being tedious, but for having +observed an English gentleman before the picture, who was at +great pains to fall into what I may describe as mild convulsions, +at certain minute details of expression which are not left in +it. Whereas, it would be comfortable and rational for +travellers and critics to arrive at a general understanding that +it cannot fail to have been a work of extraordinary merit, once: +when, with so few of its original beauties remaining, the +grandeur of the general design is yet sufficient to sustain it, +as a piece replete with interest and dignity.</p> +<p>We achieved the other sights of Milan, in due course, and a +fine city it is, though not so unmistakably Italian as to possess +the characteristic qualities of many towns far less important in +themselves. The Corso, where the Milanese gentry ride up +and down in carriages, and rather than not do which, they would +half starve themselves at home, is a most noble public promenade, +shaded by long avenues of trees. In the splendid theatre of +La Scala, there was a ballet of action performed after the opera, +under the title of Prometheus: in the beginning of which, some +hundred or two of men and women represented our mortal race +before the refinements of the arts and sciences, and loves and +graces, came on earth to soften them. I never saw anything +more effective. Generally speaking, the pantomimic action +of the Italians is more remarkable for its sudden and impetuous +character than for its delicate expression, but, in this case, +the drooping monotony: the weary, miserable, listless, moping +life: the sordid passions and desires of human creatures, +destitute of those elevating influences to which we owe so much, +and to whose promoters we render so little: were expressed in a +manner really powerful and affecting. I should have thought +it almost impossible to present such an idea so strongly on the +stage, without the aid of speech.</p> +<p>Milan soon lay behind us, at five o’clock in the +morning; and before the golden statue on the summit of the +cathedral spire was lost in the blue sky, the Alps, stupendously +confused in lofty peaks and ridges, clouds and snow, were +towering in our path.</p> +<p>Still, we continued to advance toward them until nightfall; +and, all day long, the mountain tops presented strangely shifting +shapes, as the road displayed them in different points of +view. The beautiful day was just declining, when we came +upon the Lago Maggiore, with its lovely islands. For +however fanciful and fantastic the Isola Bella may be, and is, it +still is beautiful. Anything springing out of that blue +water, with that scenery around it, must be.</p> +<p>It was ten o’clock at night when we got to Domo +d’Ossola, at the foot of the Pass of the Simplon. But +as the moon was shining brightly, and there was not a cloud in +the starlit sky, it was no time for going to bed, or going +anywhere but on. So, we got a little carriage, after some +delay, and began the ascent.</p> +<p>It was late in November; and the snow lying four or five feet +thick in the beaten road on the summit (in other parts the new +drift was already deep), the air was piercing cold. But, +the serenity of the night, and the grandeur of the road, with its +impenetrable shadows, and deep glooms, and its sudden turns into +the shining of the moon and its incessant roar of falling water, +rendered the journey more and more sublime at every step.</p> +<p>Soon leaving the calm Italian villages below us, sleeping in +the moonlight, the road began to wind among dark trees, and after +a time emerged upon a barer region, very steep and toilsome, +where the moon shone bright and high. By degrees, the roar +of water grew louder; and the stupendous track, after crossing +the torrent by a bridge, struck in between two massive +perpendicular walls of rock that quite shut out the moonlight, +and only left a few stars shining in the narrow strip of sky +above. Then, even this was lost, in the thick darkness of a +cavern in the rock, through which the way was pierced; the +terrible cataract thundering and roaring close below it, and its +foam and spray hanging, in a mist, about the entrance. +Emerging from this cave, and coming again into the moonlight, and +across a dizzy bridge, it crept and twisted upward, through the +Gorge of Gondo, savage and grand beyond description, <a +name="page294"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 294</span>with +smooth-fronted precipices, rising up on either hand, and almost +meeting overhead. Thus we went, climbing on our rugged way, +higher and higher all night, without a moment’s weariness: +lost in the contemplation of the black rocks, the tremendous +heights and depths, the fields of smooth snow lying, in the +clefts and hollows, and the fierce torrents thundering headlong +down the deep abyss.</p> +<p>Towards daybreak, we came among the snow, where a keen wind +was blowing fiercely. Having, with some trouble, awakened +the inmates of a wooden house in this solitude: round which the +wind was howling dismally, catching up the snow in wreaths and +hurling it away: we got some breakfast in a room built of rough +timbers, but well warmed by a stove, and well contrived (as it +had need to be) for keeping out the bitter storms. A sledge +being then made ready, and four horses harnessed to it, we went, +ploughing, through the snow. Still upward, but now in the +cold light of morning, and with the great white desert on which +we travelled, plain and clear.</p> +<p>We were well upon the summit of the mountain: and had before +us the rude cross of wood, denoting its greatest altitude above +the sea: when the light of the rising sun, struck, all at once, +upon the waste of snow, and turned it a deep red. The +lonely grandeur of the scene was then at its height.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p294b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"The Chiffonier" +title= +"The Chiffonier" +src="images/p294s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>As we went sledging on, there came out of the Hospice founded +by Napoleon, a group of Peasant travellers, with staves and +knapsacks, who had rested there last night: attended by a Monk or +two, their hospitable entertainers, trudging slowly forward with +them, for company’s sake. It was pleasant to give +them good morning, and pretty, looking back a long way after +them, to see them looking back at us, and hesitating presently, +when one of our horses stumbled and fell, whether or no they +should return and help us. But he was soon up again, with +the assistance of a rough waggoner whose team had stuck fast +there too; and when we had helped him out of his difficulty, in +return, we left him slowly ploughing towards them, and went +slowly and swiftly forward, on the brink of a steep precipice, +among the mountain pines.</p> +<p>Taking to our wheels again, soon afterwards, we began rapidly +to descend; passing under everlasting glaciers, by means of +arched galleries, hung with clusters of dripping icicles; under +and over foaming waterfalls; near places of refuge, and galleries +of shelter against sudden danger; through caverns over whose +arched roofs the avalanches slide, in spring, and bury themselves +in the unknown gulf beneath. Down, over lofty bridges, and +through horrible ravines: a little shifting speck in the vast +desolation of ice and snow, and monstrous granite rocks; down +through the deep Gorge of the Saltine, and deafened by the +torrent plunging madly down, among the riven blocks of rock, into +the level country, far below. Gradually down, by zig-zag +roads, lying between an upward and a downward precipice, into +warmer weather, calmer air, and softer scenery, until there lay +before us, glittering like gold or silver in the thaw and +sunshine, the metal-covered, red, green, yellow, domes and +church-spires of a Swiss town.</p> +<p>The business of these recollections being with Italy, and my +business, consequently, being to scamper back thither as fast as +possible, I will not recall (though I am sorely tempted) how the +Swiss villages, clustered at the feet of Giant mountains, looked +like playthings; or how confusedly the houses were heaped and +piled together; or how there were very narrow streets to shut the +howling winds out in the winter-time; and broken bridges, which +the impetuous torrents, suddenly released in spring, had swept +away. Or how there were peasant women here, with great +round fur caps: looking, when they peeped out of casements and +only their heads were seen, like a population of Sword-bearers to +the Lord Mayor of London; or how the town of Vevey, lying on the +smooth lake of Geneva, was beautiful to see; or how the statue of +Saint Peter in the street at Fribourg, grasps the largest key +that ever was beheld; or how Fribourg is illustrious for its two +suspension bridges, and its grand cathedral organ.</p> +<p>Or how, between that town and Bâle, the road meandered +among thriving villages of wooden cottages, with overhanging +thatched roofs, and low protruding windows, glazed with small +round panes of glass like crown-pieces; or how, in every little +Swiss homestead, with its cart or waggon carefully stowed away +beside the house, its little garden, stock of poultry, and groups +of red-cheeked children, there was an air of comfort, very new +and very pleasant after Italy; or how the dresses of the women +changed again, and there were no more sword-bearers to be seen; +and fair white stomachers, and great black, fan-shaped, +gauzy-looking caps, prevailed instead.</p> +<p>Or how the country by the Jura mountains, sprinkled with snow, +and lighted by the moon, and musical with falling water, was +delightful; or how, below the windows of the great hotel of the +Three Kings at Bâle, the swollen Rhine ran fast and green; +or how, at Strasbourg, it was quite as fast but not as green: and +was said to be foggy lower down: and, at that late time of the +year, was a far less certain means of progress, than the highway +road to Paris.</p> +<p>Or how Strasbourg itself, in its magnificent old Gothic +Cathedral, and its ancient houses with their peaked roofs and +gables, made a little gallery of quaint and interesting views; or +how a crowd was gathered inside the cathedral at noon, to see the +famous mechanical clock in motion, striking twelve. How, +when it struck twelve, a whole army of puppets went through many +ingenious evolutions; and, among them, a huge puppet-cock, +perched on the top, crowed twelve times, loud and clear. Or +how it was wonderful to see this cock at great pains to clap its +wings, and strain its throat; but obviously having no connection +whatever with its own voice; which was deep within the clock, a +long way down.</p> +<p>Or how the road to Paris, was one sea of mud, and thence to +the coast, a little better for a hard frost. Or how the +cliffs of Dover were a pleasant sight, and England was so +wonderfully neat—though dark, and lacking colour on a +winter’s day, it must be conceded.</p> +<p>Or how, a few days afterwards, it was cool, re-crossing the +channel, with ice upon the decks, and snow lying pretty deep in +France. Or how the Malle Poste scrambled through the snow, +headlong, drawn in the hilly parts by any number of stout horses +at a canter; or how there were, outside the Post-office Yard in +Paris, before daybreak, extraordinary adventurers in heaps of +rags, groping in the snowy streets with little rakes, in search +of odds and ends.</p> +<p>Or how, between Paris and Marseilles, the snow being then +exceeding deep, a thaw came on, and the mail waded rather than +rolled for the next three hundred miles or so; breaking springs +on Sunday nights, and putting out its two passengers to warm and +refresh themselves pending the repairs, in miserable +billiard-rooms, where hairy company, collected about stoves, were +playing cards; the cards being very like +themselves—extremely limp and dirty.</p> +<p>Or how there was detention at Marseilles from stress of +weather; and steamers were advertised to go, which did not go; or +how the good Steam-packet Charlemagne at length put out, and met +such weather that now she threatened to run into Toulon, and now +into Nice, but, the wind moderating, did neither, but ran on into +Genoa harbour instead, where the familiar Bells rang sweetly in +my ear. Or how there was a travelling party on board, of +whom one member was very ill in the cabin next to mine, and being +ill was cross, and therefore declined to give up the Dictionary, +which he kept under his pillow; thereby obliging his companions +to come down to him, constantly, to ask what was the Italian for +a lump of sugar—a glass of brandy and +water—what’s o’clock? and so forth: which he +always insisted on looking out, with his own sea-sick eyes, +declining to entrust the book to any man alive.</p> +<p>Like <span class="smcap">Grumio</span>, I might have told you, +in detail, all this and something more—but to as little +purpose—were I not deterred by the remembrance that my +business is with Italy. Therefore, like <span +class="smcap">Grumio’s</span> story, ‘it shall die in +oblivion.’</p> +<h2><a name="page297"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 297</span>TO +ROME BY PISA AND SIENA</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">There</span> is nothing in Italy, more +beautiful to me, than the coast-road between Genoa and +Spezzia. On one side: sometimes far below, sometimes nearly +on a level with the road, and often skirted by broken rocks of +many shapes: there is the free blue sea, with here and there a +picturesque felucca gliding slowly on; on the other side are +lofty hills, ravines besprinkled with white cottages, patches of +dark olive woods, country churches with their light open towers, +and country houses gaily painted. On every bank and knoll +by the wayside, the wild cactus and aloe flourish in exuberant +profusion; and the gardens of the bright villages along the road, +are seen, all blushing in the summer-time with clusters of the +Belladonna, and are fragrant in the autumn and winter with golden +oranges and lemons.</p> +<p>Some of the villages are inhabited, almost exclusively, by +fishermen; and it is pleasant to see their great boats hauled up +on the beach, making little patches of shade, where they lie +asleep, or where the women and children sit romping and looking +out to sea, while they mend their nets upon the shore. +There is one town, Camoglia, with its little harbour on the sea, +hundreds of feet below the road; where families of mariners live, +who, time out of mind, have owned coasting-vessels in that place, +and have traded to Spain and elsewhere. Seen from the road +above, it is like a tiny model on the margin of the dimpled +water, shining in the sun. Descended into, by the winding +mule-tracks, it is a perfect miniature of a primitive seafaring +town; the saltest, roughest, most piratical little place that +ever was seen. Great rusty iron rings and mooring-chains, +capstans, and fragments of old masts and spars, choke up the way; +hardy rough-weather boats, and seamen’s clothing, flutter +in the little harbour or are drawn out on the sunny stones to +dry; on the parapet of the rude pier, a few amphibious-looking +fellows lie asleep, with their legs dangling over the wall, as +though earth or water were all one to them, and if they slipped +in, they would float away, dozing comfortably among the fishes; +the church is bright with trophies of the sea, and votive +offerings, in commemoration of escape from storm and +shipwreck. The dwellings not immediately abutting on the +harbour are approached by blind low archways, and by crooked +steps, as if in darkness and in difficulty of access they should +be like holds of ships, or inconvenient cabins under water; and +everywhere, there is a smell of fish, and sea-weed, and old +rope.</p> +<p>The coast-road whence Camoglia is descried so far below, is +famous, in the warm season, especially in some parts near Genoa, +for fire-flies. Walking there on a dark night, I have seen +it made one sparkling firmament by these beautiful insects: so +that the distant stars were pale against the flash and glitter +that spangled every olive wood and hill-side, and pervaded the +whole air.</p> +<p>It was not in such a season, however, that we traversed this +road on our way to Rome. The middle of January was only +just past, and it was very gloomy and dark weather; very wet +besides. In crossing the fine pass of Bracco, we +encountered such a storm of mist and rain, that we travelled in a +cloud the whole way. There might have been no Mediterranean +in the world, for anything that we saw of it there, except when a +sudden gust of wind, clearing the mist before it, for a moment, +showed the agitated sea at a great depth below, lashing the +distant rocks, and spouting up its foam furiously. The rain +was incessant; every brook and torrent was greatly swollen; and +such a deafening leaping, and roaring, and thundering of water, I +never heard the like of in my life.</p> +<p>Hence, when we came to Spezzia, we found that the Magra, an +unbridged river on the high-road to Pisa, was too high to be +safely crossed in the Ferry Boat, and were fain to wait until the +afternoon of next day, when it had, in some degree, +subsided. Spezzia, however, is a good place to tarry at; by +reason, firstly, of its beautiful bay; secondly, of its ghostly +Inn; thirdly, of the head-dress of the women, who wear, on one +side of their head, a small doll’s straw hat, stuck on to +the hair; which is certainly the oddest and most roguish +head-gear that ever was invented.</p> +<p>The Magra safely crossed in the Ferry Boat—the passage +is not by any means agreeable, when the current is swollen and +strong—we arrived at Carrara, within a few hours. In +good time next morning, we got some ponies, and went out to see +the marble quarries.</p> +<p>They are four or five great glens, running up into a range of +lofty hills, until they can run no longer, and are stopped by +being abruptly strangled by Nature. The quarries, ‘or +caves,’ as they call them there, are so many openings, high +up in the hills, on either side of these passes, where they blast +and excavate for marble: which may turn out good or bad: may make +a man’s fortune very quickly, or ruin him by the great +expense of working what is worth nothing. Some of these +caves were opened by the ancient Romans, and remain as they left +them to this hour. Many others are being worked at this +moment; others are to be begun to-morrow, next week, next month; +others are unbought, unthought of; and marble enough for more +ages than have passed since the place was resorted to, lies +hidden everywhere: patiently awaiting its time of discovery.</p> +<p>As you toil and clamber up one of these steep gorges (having +left your pony soddening his girths in water, a mile or two lower +down) you hear, every now and then, echoing among the hills, in a +low tone, more silent than the previous silence, a melancholy +warning bugle,—a signal to the miners to withdraw. +Then, there is a thundering, and echoing from hill to hill, and +perhaps a splashing up of great fragments of rock into the air; +and on you toil again until some other bugle sounds, in a new +direction, and you stop directly, lest you should come within the +range of the new explosion.</p> +<p>There were numbers of men, working high up in these +hills—on the sides—clearing away, and sending down +the broken masses of stone and earth, to make way for the blocks +of marble that had been discovered. As these came rolling +down from unseen hands into the narrow valley, I could not help +thinking of the deep glen (just the same sort of glen) where the +Roc left Sindbad the Sailor; and where the merchants from the +heights above, flung down great pieces of meat for the diamonds +to stick to. There were no eagles here, to darken the sun +in their swoop, and pounce upon them; but it was as wild and +fierce as if there had been hundreds.</p> +<p>But the road, the road down which the marble comes, however +immense the blocks! The genius of the country, and the spirit of +its institutions, pave that road: repair it, watch it, keep it +going! Conceive a channel of water running over a rocky +bed, beset with great heaps of stone of all shapes and sizes, +winding down the middle of this valley; and <i>that</i> being the +road—because it was the road five hundred years ago! +Imagine the clumsy carts of five hundred years ago, being used to +this hour, and drawn, as they used to be, five hundred years ago, +by oxen, whose ancestors were worn to death five hundred years +ago, as their unhappy descendants are now, in twelve months, by +the suffering and agony of this cruel work! Two pair, four +pair, ten pair, twenty pair, to one block, according to its size; +down it must come, this way. In their struggling from stone +to stone, with their enormous loads behind them, they die +frequently upon the spot; and not they alone; for their +passionate drivers, sometimes tumbling down in their energy, are +crushed to death beneath the wheels. But it was good five +hundred years ago, and it must be good now: and a railroad down +one of these steeps (the easiest thing in the world) would be +flat blasphemy.</p> +<p>When we stood aside, to see one of these cars drawn by only a +pair of oxen (for it had but one small block of marble on it), +coming down, I hailed, in my heart, the man who sat upon the +heavy yoke, to keep it on the neck of the poor beasts—and +who faced backwards: not before him—as the very Devil of +true despotism. He had a great rod in his hand, with an +iron point; and when they could plough and force their way +through the loose bed of the torrent no longer, and came to a +stop, he poked it into their bodies, beat it on their heads, +screwed it round and round in their nostrils, got them on a yard +or two, in the madness of intense pain; repeated all these +persuasions, with increased intensity of purpose, when they +stopped again; got them on, once more; forced and goaded them to +an abrupter point of the descent; and when their writhing and +smarting, and the weight behind them, bore them plunging down the +precipice in a cloud of scattered water, whirled his rod above +his head, and gave a great whoop and hallo, as if he had achieved +something, and had no idea that they might shake him off, and +blindly mash his brains upon the road, in the noontide of his +triumph.</p> +<p>Standing in one of the many studii of Carrara, that +afternoon—for it is a great workshop, full of +beautifully-finished copies in marble, of almost every figure, +group, and bust, we know—it seemed, at first, so strange to +me that those exquisite shapes, replete with grace, and thought, +and delicate repose, should grow out of all this toil, and sweat, +and torture! But I soon found a parallel to it, and an +explanation of it, in every virtue that springs up in miserable +ground, and every good thing that has its birth in sorrow and +distress. And, looking out of the sculptor’s great +window, upon the marble mountains, all red and glowing in the +decline of day, but stern and solemn to the last, I thought, my +God! how many quarries of human hearts and souls, capable of far +more beautiful results, are left shut up and mouldering away: +while pleasure-travellers through life, avert their faces, as +they pass, and shudder at the gloom and ruggedness that conceal +them!</p> +<p>The then reigning Duke of Modena, to whom this territory in +part belonged, claimed the proud distinction of being the only +sovereign in Europe who had not recognised Louis-Philippe as King +of the French! He was not a wag, but quite in +earnest. He was also much opposed to railroads; and if +certain lines in contemplation by other potentates, on either +side of him, had been executed, would have probably enjoyed the +satisfaction of having an omnibus plying to and fro across his +not very vast dominions, to forward travellers from one terminus +to another.</p> +<p>Carrara, shut in by great hills, is very picturesque and +bold. Few tourists stay there; and the people are nearly +all connected, in one way or other, with the working of +marble. There are also villages among the caves, where the +workmen live. It contains a beautiful little Theatre, newly +built; and it is an interesting custom there, to form the chorus +of labourers in the marble quarries, who are self-taught and sing +by ear. I heard them in a comic opera, and in an act of +‘Norma;’ and they acquitted themselves very well; +unlike the common people of Italy generally, who (with some +exceptions among the Neapolitans) sing vilely out of tune, and +have very disagreeable singing voices.</p> +<p>From the summit of a lofty hill beyond Carrara, the first view +of the fertile plain in which the town of Pisa lies—with +Leghorn, a purple spot in the flat distance—is +enchanting. Nor is it only distance that lends enchantment +to the view; for the fruitful country, and rich woods of +olive-trees through which the road subsequently passes, render it +delightful.</p> +<p>The moon was shining when we approached Pisa, and for a long +time we could see, behind the wall, the leaning Tower, all awry +in the uncertain light; the shadowy original of the old pictures +in school-books, setting forth ‘The Wonders of the +World.’ Like most things connected in their first +associations with school-books and school-times, it was too +small. I felt it keenly. It was nothing like so high +above the wall as I had hoped. It was another of the many +deceptions practised by Mr. Harris, Bookseller, at the corner of +St. Paul’s Churchyard, London. <i>His</i> Tower was a +fiction, but this was a reality—and, by comparison, a short +reality. Still, it looked very well, and very strange, and +was quite as much out of the perpendicular as Harris had +represented it to be. The quiet air of Pisa too; the big +guard-house at the gate, with only two little soldiers in it; the +streets with scarcely any show of people in them; and the Arno, +flowing quaintly through the centre of the town; were +excellent. So, I bore no malice in my heart against Mr. +Harris (remembering his good intentions), but forgave him before +dinner, and went out, full of confidence, to see the Tower next +morning.</p> +<p>I might have known better; but, somehow, I had expected to see +it, casting its long shadow on a public street where people came +and went all day. It was a surprise to me to find it in a +grave retired place, apart from the general resort, and carpeted +with smooth green turf. But, the group of buildings, +clustered on and about this verdant carpet: comprising the Tower, +the Baptistery, the Cathedral, and the Church of the Campo Santo: +is perhaps the most remarkable and beautiful in the whole world; +and from being clustered there, together, away from the ordinary +transactions and details of the town, they have a singularly +venerable and impressive character. It is the architectural +essence of a rich old city, with all its common life and common +habitations pressed out, and filtered away.</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Simond</span> compares the Tower to the +usual pictorial representations in children’s books of the +Tower of Babel. It is a happy simile, and conveys a better +idea of the building than chapters of laboured description. +Nothing can exceed the grace and lightness of the structure; +nothing can be more remarkable than its general appearance. +In the course of the ascent to the top (which is by an easy +staircase), the inclination is not very apparent; but, at the +summit, it becomes so, and gives one the sensation of being in a +ship that has heeled over, through the action of an +ebb-tide. The effect <i>upon the low side</i>, so to +speak—looking over from the gallery, and seeing the shaft +recede to its base—is very startling; and I saw a nervous +traveller hold on to the Tower involuntarily, after glancing +down, as if he had some idea of propping it up. The view +within, from the ground—looking up, as through a slanted +tube—is also very curious. It certainly inclines as +much as the most sanguine tourist could desire. The natural +impulse of ninety-nine people out of a hundred, who were about to +recline upon the grass below it, to rest, and contemplate the +adjacent buildings, would probably be, not to take up their +position under the leaning side; it is so very much aslant.</p> +<p>The manifold beauties of the Cathedral and Baptistery need no +recapitulation from me; though in this case, as in a hundred +others, I find it difficult to separate my own delight in +recalling them, from your weariness in having them +recalled. There is a picture of St. Agnes, by Andrea del +Sarto, in the former, and there are a variety of rich columns in +the latter, that tempt me strongly.</p> +<p>It is, I hope, no breach of my resolution not to be tempted +into elaborate descriptions, to remember the Campo Santo; where +grass-grown graves are dug in earth brought more than six hundred +years ago, from the Holy Land; and where there are, surrounding +them, such cloisters, with such playing lights and shadows +falling through their delicate tracery on the stone pavement, as +surely the dullest memory could never forget. On the walls +of this solemn and lovely place, are ancient frescoes, very much +obliterated and decayed, but very curious. As usually +happens in almost any collection of paintings, of any sort, in +Italy, where there are many heads, there is, in one of them, a +striking accidental likeness of Napoleon. At one time, I +used to please my fancy with the speculation whether these old +painters, at their work, had a foreboding knowledge of the man +who would one day arise to wreak such destruction upon art: whose +soldiers would make targets of great pictures, and stable their +horses among triumphs of architecture. But the same +Corsican face is so plentiful in some parts of Italy at this day, +that a more commonplace solution of the coincidence is +unavoidable.</p> +<p>If Pisa be the seventh wonder of the world in right of its +Tower, it may claim to be, at least, the second or third in right +of its beggars. They waylay the unhappy visitor at every +turn, escort him to every door he enters at, and lie in wait for +him, with strong reinforcements, at every door by which they know +he must come out. The grating of the portal on its hinges +is the signal for a general shout, and the moment he appears, he +is hemmed in, and fallen on, by heaps of rags and personal +distortions. The beggars seem to embody all the trade and +enterprise of Pisa. Nothing else is stirring, but warm +air. Going through the streets, the fronts of the sleepy +houses look like backs. They are all so still and quiet, +and unlike houses with people in them, that the greater part of +the city has the appearance of a city at daybreak, or during a +general siesta of the population. Or it is yet more like +those backgrounds of houses in common prints, or old engravings, +where windows and doors are squarely indicated, and one figure (a +beggar of course) is seen walking off by itself into illimitable +perspective.</p> +<p>Not so Leghorn (made illustrious by <span +class="smcap">Smollett’s</span> grave), which is a +thriving, business-like, matter-of-fact place, where idleness is +shouldered out of the way by commerce. The regulations +observed there, in reference to trade and merchants, are very +liberal and free; and the town, of course, benefits by +them. Leghorn had a bad name in connection with stabbers, +and with some justice it must be allowed; for, not many years +ago, there was an assassination club there, the members of which +bore no ill-will to anybody in particular, but stabbed people +(quite strangers to them) in the streets at night, for the +pleasure and excitement of the recreation. I think the +president of this amiable society was a shoemaker. He was +taken, however, and the club was broken up. It would, +probably, have disappeared in the natural course of events, +before the railroad between Leghorn and Pisa, which is a good +one, and has already begun to astonish Italy with a precedent of +punctuality, order, plain dealing, and improvement—the most +dangerous and heretical astonisher of all. There must have +been a slight sensation, as of earthquake, surely, in the +Vatican, when the first Italian railroad was thrown open.</p> +<p>Returning to Pisa, and hiring a good-tempered +Vetturíno, and his four horses, to take us on to Rome, we +travelled through pleasant Tuscan villages and cheerful scenery +all day. The roadside crosses in this part of Italy are +numerous and curious. There is seldom a figure on the +cross, though there is sometimes a face, but they are remarkable +for being garnished with little models in wood, of every possible +object that can be connected with the Saviour’s +death. The cock that crowed when Peter had denied his +Master thrice, is usually perched on the tip-top; and an +ornithological phenomenon he generally is. Under him, is +the inscription. Then, hung on to the cross-beam, are the +spear, the reed with the sponge of vinegar and water at the end, +the coat without seam for which the soldiers cast lots, the +dice-box with which they threw for it, the hammer that drove in +the nails, the pincers that pulled them out, the ladder which was +set against the cross, the crown of thorns, the instrument of +flagellation, the lanthorn with which Mary went to the tomb (I +suppose), and the sword with which Peter smote the servant of the +high priest,—a perfect toy-shop of little objects, repeated +at every four or five miles, all along the highway.</p> +<p>On the evening of the second day from Pisa, we reached the +beautiful old city of Siena. There was what they called a +Carnival, in progress; but, as its secret lay in a score or two +of melancholy people walking up and down the principal street in +common toy-shop masks, and being more melancholy, if possible, +than the same sort of people in England, I say no more of +it. We went off, betimes next morning, to see the +Cathedral, which is wonderfully picturesque inside and out, +especially the latter—also the market-place, or great +Piazza, which is a large square, with a great broken-nosed +fountain in it: some quaint Gothic houses: and a high square +brick tower; <i>outside</i> the top of which—a curious +feature in such views in Italy—hangs an enormous +bell. It is like a bit of Venice, without the water. +There are some curious old Palazzi in the town, which is very +ancient; and without having (for me) the interest of Verona, or +Genoa, it is very dreamy and fantastic, and most interesting.</p> +<p>We went on again, as soon as we had seen these things, and +going over a rather bleak country (there had been nothing but +vines until now: mere walking-sticks at that season of the year), +stopped, as usual, between one and two hours in the middle of the +day, to rest the horses; that being a part of every +Vetturíno contract. We then went on again, through a +region gradually becoming bleaker and wilder, until it became as +bare and desolate as any Scottish moors. Soon after dark, +we halted for the night, at the osteria of La Scala: a perfectly +lone house, where the family were sitting round a great fire in +the kitchen, raised on a stone platform three or four feet high, +and big enough for the roasting of an ox. On the upper, and +only other floor of this hotel, there was a great, wild, rambling +sála, with one very little window in a by-corner, and four +black doors opening into four black bedrooms in various +directions. To say nothing of another large black door, +opening into another large black sála, with the staircase +coming abruptly through a kind of trap-door in the floor, and the +rafters of the roof looming above: a suspicious little press +skulking in one obscure corner: and all the knives in the house +lying about in various directions. The fireplace was of the +purest Italian architecture, so that it was perfectly impossible +to see it for the smoke. The waitress was like a dramatic +brigand’s wife, and wore the same style of dress upon her +head. The dogs barked like mad; the echoes returned the +compliments bestowed upon them; there was not another house +within twelve miles; and things had a dreary, and rather a +cut-throat, appearance.</p> +<p>They were not improved by rumours of robbers having come out, +strong and boldly, within a few nights; and of their having +stopped the mail very near that place. They were known to +have waylaid some travellers not long before, on Mount Vesuvius +itself, and were the talk at all the roadside inns. As they +were no business of ours, however (for we had very little with us +to lose), we made ourselves merry on the subject, and were very +soon as comfortable as need be. We had the usual dinner in +this solitary house; and a very good dinner it is, when you are +used to it. There is something with a vegetable or some +rice in it which is a sort of shorthand or arbitrary character +for soup, and which tastes very well, when you have flavoured it +with plenty of grated cheese, lots of salt, and abundance of +pepper. There is the half fowl of which this soup has been +made. There is a stewed pigeon, with the gizzards and +livers of himself and other birds stuck all round him. +There is a bit of roast beef, the size of a small French +roll. There are a scrap of Parmesan cheese, and five little +withered apples, all huddled together on a small plate, and +crowding one upon the other, as if each were trying to save +itself from the chance of being eaten. Then there is +coffee; and then there is bed. You don’t mind brick +floors; you don’t mind yawning doors, nor banging windows; +you don’t mind your own horses being stabled under the bed: +and so close, that every time a horse coughs or sneezes, he wakes +you. If you are good-humoured to the people about you, and +speak pleasantly, and look cheerful, take my word for it you may +be well entertained in the very worst Italian Inn, and always in +the most obliging manner, and may go from one end of the country +to the other (despite all stories to the contrary) without any +great trial of your patience anywhere. Especially, when you +get such wine in flasks, as the Orvieto, and the Monte +Pulciano.</p> +<p>It was a bad morning when we left this place; and we went, for +twelve miles, over a country as barren, as stony, and as wild, as +Cornwall in England, until we came to Radicofani, where there is +a ghostly, goblin inn: once a hunting-seat, belonging to the +Dukes of Tuscany. It is full of such rambling corridors, +and gaunt rooms, that all the murdering and phantom tales that +ever were written might have originated in that one house. +There are some horrible old Palazzi in Genoa: one in particular, +not unlike it, outside: but there is a winding, creaking, wormy, +rustling, door-opening, foot-on-staircase-falling character about +this Radicofani Hotel, such as I never saw, anywhere else. +The town, such as it is, hangs on a hill-side above the house, +and in front of it. The inhabitants are all beggars; and as +soon as they see a carriage coming, they swoop down upon it, like +so many birds of prey.</p> +<p>When we got on the mountain pass, which lies beyond this +place, the wind (as they had forewarned us at the inn) was so +terrific, that we were obliged to take my other half out of the +carriage, lest she should be blown over, carriage and all, and to +hang to it, on the windy side (as well as we could for laughing), +to prevent its going, Heaven knows where. For mere force of +wind, this land-storm might have competed with an Atlantic gale, +and had a reasonable chance of coming off victorious. The +blast came sweeping down great gullies in a range of mountains on +the right: so that we looked with positive awe at a great morass +on the left, and saw that there was not a bush or twig to hold +by. It seemed as if, once blown from our feet, we must be +swept out to sea, or away into space. There was snow, and +hail, and rain, and lightning, and thunder; and there were +rolling mists, travelling with incredible velocity. It was +dark, awful, and solitary to the last degree; there were +mountains above mountains, veiled in angry clouds; and there was +such a wrathful, rapid, violent, tumultuous hurry, everywhere, as +rendered the scene unspeakably exciting and grand.</p> +<p>It was a relief to get out of it, notwithstanding; and to +cross even the dismal, dirty Papal Frontier. After passing +through two little towns; in one of which, Acquapendente, there +was also a ‘Carnival’ in progress: consisting of one +man dressed and masked as a woman, and one woman dressed and +masked as a man, walking ankle-deep, through the muddy streets, +in a very melancholy manner: we came, at dusk, within sight of +the Lake of Bolsena, on whose bank there is a little town of the +same name, much celebrated for malaria. With the exception +of this poor place, there is not a cottage on the banks of the +lake, or near it (for nobody dare sleep there); not a boat upon +its waters; not a stick or stake to break the dismal monotony of +seven-and-twenty watery miles. We were late in getting in, +the roads being very bad from heavy rains; and, after dark, the +dulness of the scene was quite intolerable.</p> +<p>We entered on a very different, and a finer scene of +desolation, next night, at sunset. We had passed through +Montefiaschone (famous for its wine) and Viterbo (for its +fountains): and after climbing up a long hill of eight or ten +miles’ extent, came suddenly upon the margin of a solitary +lake: in one part very beautiful, with a luxuriant wood; in +another, very barren, and shut in by bleak volcanic hills. +Where this lake flows, there stood, of old, a city. It was +swallowed up one day; and in its stead, this water rose. +There are ancient traditions (common to many parts of the world) +of the ruined city having been seen below, when the water was +clear; but however that may be, from this spot of earth it +vanished. The ground came bubbling up above it; and the +water too; and here they stand, like ghosts on whom the other +world closed suddenly, and who have no means of getting back +again. They seem to be waiting the course of ages, for the +next earthquake in that place; when they will plunge below the +ground, at its first yawning, and be seen no more. The +unhappy city below, is not more lost and dreary, than these +fire-charred hills and the stagnant water, above. The red +sun looked strangely on them, as with the knowledge that they +were made for caverns and darkness; and the melancholy water +oozed and sucked the mud, and crept quietly among the marshy +grass and reeds, as if the overthrow of all the ancient towers +and housetops, and the death of all the ancient people born and +bred there, were yet heavy on its conscience.</p> +<p>A short ride from this lake, brought us to Ronciglione; a +little town like a large pig-sty, where we passed the +night. Next morning at seven o’clock, we started for +Rome.</p> +<p>As soon as we were out of the pig-sty, we entered on the +Campagna Romana; an undulating flat (as you know), where few +people can live; and where, for miles and miles, there is nothing +to relieve the terrible monotony and gloom. Of all kinds of +country that could, by possibility, lie outside the gates of +Rome, this is the aptest and fittest burial-ground for the Dead +City. So sad, so quiet, so sullen; so secret in its +covering up of great masses of ruin, and hiding them; so like the +waste places into which the men possessed with devils used to go +and howl, and rend themselves, in the old days of +Jerusalem. We had to traverse thirty miles of this +Campagna; and for two-and-twenty we went on and on, seeing +nothing but now and then a lonely house, or a villainous-looking +shepherd: with matted hair all over his face, and himself wrapped +to the chin in a frowsy brown mantle, tending his sheep. At +the end of that distance, we stopped to refresh the horses, and +to get some lunch, in a common malaria-shaken, despondent little +public-house, whose every inch of wall and beam, inside, was +(according to custom) painted and decorated in a way so miserable +that every room looked like the wrong side of another room, and, +with its wretched imitation of drapery, and lop-sided little +daubs of lyres, seemed to have been plundered from behind the +scenes of some travelling circus.</p> +<p>When we were fairly going off again, we began, in a perfect +fever, to strain our eyes for Rome; and when, after another mile +or two, the Eternal City appeared, at length, in the distance; it +looked like—I am half afraid to write the word—like +LONDON!!! There it lay, under a thick cloud, with +innumerable towers, and steeples, and roofs of houses, rising up +into the sky, and high above them all, one Dome. I swear, +that keenly as I felt the seeming absurdity of the comparison, it +was so like London, at that distance, that if you could have +shown it me, in a glass, I should have taken it for nothing +else.</p> +<h2><a name="page308"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +308</span>ROME</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">We</span> entered the Eternal City, at +about four o’clock in the afternoon, on the thirtieth of +January, by the Porta del Popolo, and came immediately—it +was a dark, muddy day, and there had been heavy rain—on the +skirts of the Carnival. We did not, then, know that we were +only looking at the fag end of the masks, who were driving slowly +round and round the Piazza until they could find a promising +opportunity for falling into the stream of carriages, and +getting, in good time, into the thick of the festivity; and +coming among them so abruptly, all travel-stained and weary, was +not coming very well prepared to enjoy the scene.</p> +<p>We had crossed the Tiber by the Ponte Molle two or three miles +before. It had looked as yellow as it ought to look, and +hurrying on between its worn-away and miry banks, had a promising +aspect of desolation and ruin. The masquerade dresses on +the fringe of the Carnival, did great violence to this +promise. There were no great ruins, no solemn tokens of +antiquity, to be seen;—they all lie on the other side of +the city. There seemed to be long streets of commonplace +shops and houses, such as are to be found in any European town; +there were busy people, equipages, ordinary walkers to and fro; a +multitude of chattering strangers. It was no more <i>my</i> +Rome: the Rome of anybody’s fancy, man or boy; degraded and +fallen and lying asleep in the sun among a heap of ruins: than +the Place de la Concorde in Paris is. A cloudy sky, a dull +cold rain, and muddy streets, I was prepared for, but not for +this: and I confess to having gone to bed, that night, in a very +indifferent humour, and with a very considerably quenched +enthusiasm.</p> +<p>Immediately on going out next day, we hurried off to St. +Peter’s. It looked immense in the distance, but +distinctly and decidedly small, by comparison, on a near +approach. The beauty of the Piazza, on which it stands, +with its clusters of exquisite columns, and its gushing +fountains—so fresh, so broad, and free, and +beautiful—nothing can exaggerate. The first burst of +the interior, in all its expansive majesty and glory: and, most +of all, the looking up into the Dome: is a sensation never to be +forgotten. But, there were preparations for a Festa; the +pillars of stately marble were swathed in some impertinent +frippery of red and yellow; the altar, and entrance to the +subterranean chapel: which is before it: in the centre of the +church: were like a goldsmith’s shop, or one of the opening +scenes in a very lavish pantomime. And though I had as high +a sense of the beauty of the building (I hope) as it is possible +to entertain, I felt no very strong emotion. I have been +infinitely more affected in many English cathedrals when the +organ has been playing, and in many English country churches when +the congregation have been singing. I had a much greater +sense of mystery and wonder, in the Cathedral of San Mark at +Venice.</p> +<p>When we came out of the church again (we stood nearly an hour +staring up into the dome: and would not have ‘gone +over’ the Cathedral then, for any money), we said to the +coachman, ‘Go to the Coliseum.’ In a quarter of +an hour or so, he stopped at the gate, and we went in.</p> +<p>It is no fiction, but plain, sober, honest Truth, to say: so +suggestive and distinct is it at this hour: that, for a +moment—actually in passing in—they who will, may have +the whole great pile before them, as it used to be, with +thousands of eager faces staring down into the arena, and such a +whirl of strife, and blood, and dust going on there, as no +language can describe. Its solitude, its awful beauty, and +its utter desolation, strike upon the stranger the next moment, +like a softened sorrow; and never in his life, perhaps, will he +be so moved and overcome by any sight, not immediately connected +with his own affections and afflictions.</p> +<p>To see it crumbling there, an inch a year; its walls and +arches overgrown with green; its corridors open to the day; the +long grass growing in its porches; young trees of yesterday, +springing up on its ragged parapets, and bearing fruit: chance +produce of the seeds dropped there by the birds who build their +nests within its chinks and crannies; to see its Pit of Fight +filled up with earth, and the peaceful Cross planted in the +centre; to climb into its upper halls, and look down on ruin, +ruin, ruin, all about it; the triumphal arches of Constantine, +Septimus Severus, and Titus; the Roman Forum; the Palace of the +Cæsars; the temples of the old religion, fallen down and +gone; is to see the ghost of old Rome, wicked, wonderful old +city, haunting the very ground on which its people trod. It +is the most impressive, the most stately, the most solemn, grand, +majestic, mournful sight, conceivable. Never, in its +bloodiest prime, can the sight of the gigantic Coliseum, full and +running over with the lustiest life, have moved one’s +heart, as it must move all who look upon it now, a ruin. +<span class="smcap">God</span> be thanked: a ruin!</p> +<p>As it tops the other ruins: standing there, a mountain among +graves: so do its ancient influences outlive all other remnants +of the old mythology and old butchery of Rome, in the nature of +the fierce and cruel Roman people. The Italian face changes +as the visitor approaches the city; its beauty becomes devilish; +and there is scarcely one countenance in a hundred, among the +common people in the streets, that would not be at home and happy +in a renovated Coliseum to-morrow.</p> +<p>Here was Rome indeed at last; and such a Rome as no one can +imagine in its full and awful grandeur! We wandered out +upon the Appian Way, and then went on, through miles of ruined +tombs and broken walls, with here and there a desolate and +uninhabited house: past the Circus of Romulus, where the course +of the chariots, the stations of the judges, competitors, and +spectators, are yet as plainly to be seen as in old time: past +the tomb of Cecilia Metella: past all inclosure, hedge, or stake, +wall or fence: away upon the open Campagna, where on that side of +Rome, nothing is to be beheld but Ruin. Except where the +distant Apennines bound the view upon the left, the whole wide +prospect is one field of ruin. Broken aqueducts, left in +the most picturesque and beautiful clusters of arches; broken +temples; broken tombs. A desert of decay, sombre and +desolate beyond all expression; and with a history in every stone +that strews the ground.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>On Sunday, the Pope assisted in the performance of High Mass +at St. Peter’s. The effect of the Cathedral on my +mind, on that second visit, was exactly what it was at first, and +what it remains after many visits. It is not religiously +impressive or affecting. It is an immense edifice, with no +one point for the mind to rest upon; and it tires itself with +wandering round and round. The very purpose of the place, +is not expressed in anything you see there, unless you examine +its details—and all examination of details is incompatible +with the place itself. It might be a Pantheon, or a Senate +House, or a great architectural trophy, having no other object +than an architectural triumph. There is a black statue of +St. Peter, to be sure, under a red canopy; which is larger than +life and which is constantly having its great toe kissed by good +Catholics. You cannot help seeing that: it is so very +prominent and popular. But it does not heighten the effect +of the temple, as a work of art; and it is not +expressive—to me at least—of its high purpose.</p> +<p>A large space behind the altar, was fitted up with boxes, +shaped like those at the Italian Opera in England, but in their +decoration much more gaudy. In the centre of the kind of +theatre thus railed off, was a canopied dais with the +Pope’s chair upon it. The pavement was covered with a +carpet of the brightest green; and what with this green, and the +intolerable reds and crimsons, and gold borders of the hangings, +the whole concern looked like a stupendous Bonbon. On +either side of the altar, was a large box for lady +strangers. These were filled with ladies in black dresses +and black veils. The gentlemen of the Pope’s guard, +in red coats, leather breeches, and jack-boots, guarded all this +reserved space, with drawn swords that were very flashy in every +sense; and from the altar all down the nave, a broad lane was +kept clear by the Pope’s Swiss guard, who wear a quaint +striped surcoat, and striped tight legs, and carry halberds like +those which are usually shouldered by those theatrical +supernumeraries, who never <i>can</i> get off the stage fast +enough, and who may be generally observed to linger in the +enemy’s camp after the open country, held by the opposite +forces, has been split up the middle by a convulsion of +Nature.</p> +<p>I got upon the border of the green carpet, in company with a +great many other gentlemen, attired in black (no other passport +is necessary), and stood there at my ease, during the performance +of Mass. The singers were in a crib of wirework (like a +large meat-safe or bird-cage) in one corner; and sang most +atrociously. All about the green carpet, there was a slowly +moving crowd of people: talking to each other: staring at the +Pope through eye-glasses; defrauding one another, in moments of +partial curiosity, out of precarious seats on the bases of +pillars: and grinning hideously at the ladies. Dotted here +and there, were little knots of friars (Frances-cáni, or +Cappuccíni, in their coarse brown dresses and peaked +hoods) making a strange contrast to the gaudy ecclesiastics of +higher degree, and having their humility gratified to the utmost, +by being shouldered about, and elbowed right and left, on all +sides. Some of these had muddy sandals and umbrellas, and +stained garments: having trudged in from the country. The +faces of the greater part were as coarse and heavy as their +dress; their dogged, stupid, monotonous stare at all the glory +and splendour, having something in it, half miserable, and half +ridiculous.</p> +<p>Upon the green carpet itself, and gathered round the altar, +was a perfect army of cardinals and priests, in red, gold, +purple, violet, white, and fine linen. Stragglers from +these, went to and fro among the crowd, conversing two and two, +or giving and receiving introductions, and exchanging +salutations; other functionaries in black gowns, and other +functionaries in court-dresses, were similarly engaged. In +the midst of all these, and stealthy Jesuits creeping in and out, +and the extreme restlessness of the Youth of England, who were +perpetually wandering about, some few steady persons in black +cassocks, who had knelt down with their faces to the wall, and +were poring over their missals, became, unintentionally, a sort +of humane man-traps, and with their own devout legs, tripped up +other people’s by the dozen.</p> +<p>There was a great pile of candles lying down on the floor near +me, which a very old man in a rusty black gown with an open-work +tippet, like a summer ornament for a fireplace in tissue-paper, +made himself very busy in dispensing to all the ecclesiastics: +one a-piece. They loitered about with these for some time, +under their arms like walking-sticks, or in their hands like +truncheons. At a certain period of the ceremony, however, +each carried his candle up to the Pope, laid it across his two +knees to be blessed, took it back again, and filed off. +This was done in a very attenuated procession, as you may +suppose, and occupied a long time. Not because it takes +long to bless a candle through and through, but because there +were so many candles to be blessed. At last they were all +blessed: and then they were all lighted; and then the Pope was +taken up, chair and all, and carried round the church.</p> +<p>I must say, that I never saw anything, out of November, so +like the popular English commemoration of the fifth of that +month. A bundle of matches and a lantern, would have made +it perfect. Nor did the Pope, himself, at all mar the +resemblance, though he has a pleasant and venerable face; for, as +this part of the ceremony makes him giddy and sick, he shuts his +eyes when it is performed: and having his eyes shut and a great +mitre on his head, and his head itself wagging to and fro as they +shook him in carrying, he looked as if his mask were going to +tumble off. The two immense fans which are always borne, +one on either side of him, accompanied him, of course, on this +occasion. As they carried him along, he blessed the people +with the mystic sign; and as he passed them, they kneeled +down. When he had made the round of the church, he was +brought back again, and if I am not mistaken, this performance +was repeated, in the whole, three times. There was, +certainly nothing solemn or effective in it; and certainly very +much that was droll and tawdry. But this remark applies to +the whole ceremony, except the raising of the Host, when every +man in the guard dropped on one knee instantly, and dashed his +naked sword on the ground; which had a fine effect.</p> +<p>The next time I saw the cathedral, was some two or three weeks +afterwards, when I climbed up into the ball; and then, the +hangings being taken down, and the carpet taken up, but all the +framework left, the remnants of these decorations looked like an +exploded cracker.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>The Friday and Saturday having been solemn Festa days, and +Sunday being always a <i>dies non</i> in carnival proceedings, we +had looked forward, with some impatience and curiosity, to the +beginning of the new week: Monday and Tuesday being the two last +and best days of the Carnival.</p> +<p>On the Monday afternoon at one or two o’clock, there +began to be a great rattling of carriages into the court-yard of +the hotel; a hurrying to and fro of all the servants in it; and, +now and then, a swift shooting across some doorway or balcony, of +a straggling stranger in a fancy dress: not yet sufficiently well +used to the same, to wear it with confidence, and defy public +opinion. All the carriages were open, and had the linings +carefully covered with white cotton or calico, to prevent their +proper decorations from being spoiled by the incessant pelting of +sugar-plums; and people were packing and cramming into every +vehicle as it waited for its occupants, enormous sacks and +baskets full of these confétti, together with such heaps +of flowers, tied up in little nosegays, that some carriages were +not only brimful of flowers, but literally running over: +scattering, at every shake and jerk of the springs, some of their +abundance on the ground. Not to be behindhand in these +essential particulars, we caused two very respectable sacks of +sugar-plums (each about three feet high) and a large +clothes-basket full of flowers to be conveyed into our hired +barouche, with all speed. And from our place of +observation, in one of the upper balconies of the hotel, we +contemplated these arrangements with the liveliest +satisfaction. The carriages now beginning to take up their +company, and move away, we got into ours, and drove off too, +armed with little wire masks for our faces; the sugar-plums, like +Falstaff’s adulterated sack, having lime in their +composition.</p> +<p>The Corso is a street a mile long; a street of shops, and +palaces, and private houses, sometimes opening into a broad +piazza. There are verandahs and balconies, of all shapes +and sizes, to almost every house—not on one story alone, +but often to one room or another on every story—put there +in general with so little order or regularity, that if, year +after year, and season after season, it had rained balconies, +hailed balconies, snowed balconies, blown balconies, they could +scarcely have come into existence in a more disorderly +manner.</p> +<p>This is the great fountain-head and focus of the +Carnival. But all the streets in which the Carnival is +held, being vigilantly kept by dragoons, it is necessary for +carriages, in the first instance, to pass, in line, down another +thoroughfare, and so come into the Corso at the end remote from +the Piázza del Popolo; which is one of its +terminations. Accordingly, we fell into the string of +coaches, and, for some time, jogged on quietly enough; now +crawling on at a very slow walk; now trotting half-a-dozen yards; +now backing fifty; and now stopping altogether: as the pressure +in front obliged us. If any impetuous carriage dashed out +of the rank and clattered forward, with the wild idea of getting +on faster, it was suddenly met, or overtaken, by a trooper on +horseback, who, deaf as his own drawn sword to all remonstrances, +immediately escorted it back to the very end of the row, and made +it a dim speck in the remotest perspective. Occasionally, +we interchanged a volley of confétti with the carriage +next in front, or the carriage next behind; but as yet, this +capturing of stray and errant coaches by the military, was the +chief amusement.</p> +<p>Presently, we came into a narrow street, where, besides one +line of carriages going, there was another line of carriages +returning. Here the sugar-plums and the nosegays began to +fly about, pretty smartly; and I was fortunate enough to observe +one gentleman attired as a Greek warrior, catch a light-whiskered +brigand on the nose (he was in the very act of tossing up a +bouquet to a young lady in a first-floor window) with a precision +that was much applauded by the bystanders. As this +victorious Greek was exchanging a facetious remark with a stout +gentleman in a doorway—one-half black and one-half white, +as if he had been peeled up the middle—who had offered him +his congratulations on this achievement, he received an orange +from a housetop, full on his left ear, and was much surprised, +not to say discomfited. Especially, as he was standing up +at the time; and in consequence of the carriage moving on +suddenly, at the same moment, staggered ignominiously, and buried +himself among his flowers.</p> +<p>Some quarter of an hour of this sort of progress, brought us +to the Corso; and anything so gay, so bright, and lively as the +whole scene there, it would be difficult to imagine. From +all the innumerable balconies: from the remotest and highest, no +less than from the lowest and nearest: hangings of bright red, +bright green, bright blue, white and gold, were fluttering in the +brilliant sunlight. From windows, and from parapets, and +tops of houses, streamers of the richest colours, and draperies +of the gaudiest and most sparkling hues, were floating out upon +the street. The buildings seemed to have been literally +turned inside out, and to have all their gaiety towards the +highway. Shop-fronts were taken down, and the windows +filled with company, like boxes at a shining theatre; doors were +carried off their hinges, and long tapestried groves, hung with +garlands of flowers and evergreens, displayed within; +builders’ scaffoldings were gorgeous temples, radiant in +silver, gold, and crimson; and in every nook and corner, from the +pavement to the chimney-tops, where women’s eyes could +glisten, there they danced, and laughed, and sparkled, like the +light in water. Every sort of bewitching madness of dress +was there. Little preposterous scarlet jackets; quaint old +stomachers, more wicked than the smartest bodices; Polish +pelisses, strained and tight as ripe gooseberries; tiny Greek +caps, all awry, and clinging to the dark hair, Heaven knows how; +every wild, quaint, bold, shy, pettish, madcap fancy had its +illustration in a dress; and every fancy was as dead forgotten by +its owner, in the tumult of merriment, as if the three old +aqueducts that still remain entire had brought Lethe into Rome, +upon their sturdy arches, that morning.</p> +<p>The carriages were now three abreast; in broader places four; +often stationary for a long time together, always one close mass +of variegated brightness; showing, the whole street-full, through +the storm of flowers, like flowers of a larger growth +themselves. In some, the horses were richly caparisoned in +magnificent trappings; in others they were decked from head to +tail, with flowing ribbons. Some were driven by coachmen +with enormous double faces: one face leering at the horses: the +other cocking its extraordinary eyes into the carriage: and both +rattling again, under the hail of sugar-plums. Other +drivers were attired as women, wearing long ringlets and no +bonnets, and looking more ridiculous in any real difficulty with +the horses (of which, in such a concourse, there were a great +many) than tongue can tell, or pen describe. Instead of +sitting <i>in</i> the carriages, upon the seats, the handsome +Roman women, to see and to be seen the better, sit in the heads +of the barouches, at this time of general licence, with their +feet upon the cushions—and oh, the flowing skirts and +dainty waists, the blessed shapes and laughing faces, the free, +good-humoured, gallant figures that they make! There were great +vans, too, full of handsome girls—thirty, or more together, +perhaps—and the broadsides that were poured into, and +poured out of, these fairy fire-shops, splashed the air with +flowers and bon-bons for ten minutes at a time. Carriages, +delayed long in one place, would begin a deliberate engagement +with other carriages, or with people at the lower windows; and +the spectators at some upper balcony or window, joining in the +fray, and attacking both parties, would empty down great bags of +confétti, that descended like a cloud, and in an instant +made them white as millers. Still, carriages on carriages, +dresses on dresses, colours on colours, crowds upon crowds, +without end. Men and boys clinging to the wheels of +coaches, and holding on behind, and following in their wake, and +diving in among the horses’ feet to pick up scattered +flowers to sell again; maskers on foot (the drollest generally) +in fantastic exaggerations of court-dresses, surveying the throng +through enormous eye-glasses, and always transported with an +ecstasy of love, on the discovery of any particularly old lady at +a window; long strings of Policinelli, laying about them with +blown bladders at the ends of sticks; a waggon-full of madmen, +screaming and tearing to the life; a coach-full of grave +mamelukes, with their horse-tail standard set up in the midst; a +party of gipsy-women engaged in terrific conflict with a shipful +of sailors; a man-monkey on a pole, surrounded by strange animals +with pigs’ faces, and lions’ tails, carried under +their arms, or worn gracefully over their shoulders; carriages on +carriages, dresses on dresses, colours on colours, crowds upon +crowds, without end. Not many actual characters sustained, +or represented, perhaps, considering the number dressed, but the +main pleasure of the scene consisting in its perfect good temper; +in its bright, and infinite, and flashing variety; and in its +entire abandonment to the mad humour of the time—an +abandonment so perfect, so contagious, so irresistible, that the +steadiest foreigner fights up to his middle in flowers and +sugar-plums, like the wildest Roman of them all, and thinks of +nothing else till half-past four o’clock, when he is +suddenly reminded (to his great regret) that this is not the +whole business of his existence, by hearing the trumpets sound, +and seeing the dragoons begin to clear the street.</p> +<p>How it ever <i>is</i> cleared for the race that takes place at +five, or how the horses ever go through the race, without going +over the people, is more than I can say. But the carriages +get out into the by-streets, or up into the Piázza del +Popolo, and some people sit in temporary galleries in the latter +place, and tens of thousands line the Corso on both sides, when +the horses are brought out into the Piázza—to the +foot of that same column which, for centuries, looked down upon +the games and chariot-races in the Circus Maximus.</p> +<p>At a given signal they are started off. Down the live +lane, the whole length of the Corso, they fly like the wind: +riderless, as all the world knows: with shining ornaments upon +their backs, and twisted in their plaited manes: and with heavy +little balls stuck full of spikes, dangling at their sides, to +goad them on. The jingling of these trappings, and the +rattling of their hoofs upon the hard stones; the dash and fury +of their speed along the echoing street; nay, the very cannon +that are fired—these noises are nothing to the roaring of +the multitude: their shouts: the clapping of their hands. +But it is soon over—almost instantaneously. More +cannon shake the town. The horses have plunged into the +carpets put across the street to stop them; the goal is reached; +the prizes are won (they are given, in part, by the poor Jews, as +a compromise for not running foot-races themselves); and there is +an end to that day’s sport.</p> +<p>But if the scene be bright, and gay, and crowded, on the last +day but one, it attains, on the concluding day, to such a height +of glittering colour, swarming life, and frolicsome uproar, that +the bare recollection of it makes me giddy at this moment. +The same diversions, greatly heightened and intensified in the +ardour with which they are pursued, go on until the same +hour. The race is repeated; the cannon are fired; the +shouting and clapping of hands are renewed; the cannon are fired +again; the race is over; and the prizes are won. But the +carriages: ankle-deep with sugar-plums within, and so be-flowered +and dusty without, as to be hardly recognisable for the same +vehicles that they were, three hours ago: instead of scampering +off in all directions, throng into the Corso, where they are soon +wedged together in a scarcely moving mass. For the +diversion of the Moccoletti, the last gay madness of the +Carnival, is now at hand; and sellers of little tapers like what +are called Christmas candles in England, are shouting lustily on +every side, ‘Moccoli, Moccoli! Ecco +Moccoli!’—a new item in the tumult; quite abolishing +that other item of ‘Ecco Fióri! Ecco +Fior-r-r!’ which has been making itself audible over all +the rest, at intervals, the whole day through.</p> +<p>As the bright hangings and dresses are all fading into one +dull, heavy, uniform colour in the decline of the day, lights +begin flashing, here and there: in the windows, on the housetops, +in the balconies, in the carriages, in the hands of the +foot-passengers: little by little: gradually, gradually: more and +more: until the whole long street is one great glare and blaze of +fire. Then, everybody present has but one engrossing +object; that is, to extinguish other people’s candles, and +to keep his own alight; and everybody: man, woman, or child, +gentleman or lady, prince or peasant, native or foreigner: yells +and screams, and roars incessantly, as a taunt to the subdued, +‘Senza Moccolo, Senza Moccolo!’ (Without a +light! Without a light!) until nothing is heard but a +gigantic chorus of those two words, mingled with peals of +laughter.</p> +<p>The spectacle, at this time, is one of the most extraordinary +that can be imagined. Carriages coming slowly by, with +everybody standing on the seats or on the box, holding up their +lights at arms’ length, for greater safety; some in paper +shades; some with a bunch of undefended little tapers, kindled +altogether; some with blazing torches; some with feeble little +candles; men on foot, creeping along, among the wheels, watching +their opportunity, to make a spring at some particular light, and +dash it out; other people climbing up into carriages, to get hold +of them by main force; others, chasing some unlucky wanderer, +round and round his own coach, to blow out the light he has +begged or stolen somewhere, before he can ascend to his own +company, and enable them to light their extinguished tapers; +others, with their hats off, at a carriage-door, humbly +beseeching some kind-hearted lady to oblige them with a light for +a cigar, and when she is in the fulness of doubt whether to +comply or no, blowing out the candle she is guarding so tenderly +with her little hand; other people at the windows, fishing for +candles with lines and hooks, or letting down long willow-wands +with handkerchiefs at the end, and flapping them out, +dexterously, when the bearer is at the height of his triumph, +others, biding their time in corners, with immense extinguishers +like halberds, and suddenly coming down upon glorious torches; +others, gathered round one coach, and sticking to it; others, +raining oranges and nosegays at an obdurate little lantern, or +regularly storming a pyramid of men, holding up one man among +them, who carries one feeble little wick above his head, with +which he defies them all! Senza Moccolo! Senza +Moccolo! Beautiful women, standing up in coaches, pointing +in derision at extinguished lights, and clapping their hands, as +they pass on, crying, ‘Senza Moccolo! Senza +Moccolo!’; low balconies full of lovely faces and gay +dresses, struggling with assailants in the streets; some +repressing them as they climb up, some bending down, some leaning +over, some shrinking back—delicate arms and +bosoms—graceful figures—glowing lights, fluttering +dresses, Senza Moccolo, Senza Moccoli, Senza +Moc-co-lo-o-o-o!—when in the wildest enthusiasm of the cry, +and fullest ecstasy of the sport, the Ave Maria rings from the +church steeples, and the Carnival is over in an instant—put +out like a taper, with a breath!</p> +<p>There was a masquerade at the theatre at night, as dull and +senseless as a London one, and only remarkable for the summary +way in which the house was cleared at eleven o’clock: which +was done by a line of soldiers forming along the wall, at the +back of the stage, and sweeping the whole company out before +them, like a broad broom. The game of the Moccoletti (the +word, in the singular, Moccoletto, is the diminutive of Moccolo, +and means a little lamp or candlesnuff) is supposed by some to be +a ceremony of burlesque mourning for the death of the Carnival: +candles being indispensable to Catholic grief. But whether +it be so, or be a remnant of the ancient Saturnalia, or an +incorporation of both, or have its origin in anything else, I +shall always remember it, and the frolic, as a brilliant and most +captivating sight: no less remarkable for the unbroken +good-humour of all concerned, down to the very lowest (and among +those who scaled the carriages, were many of the commonest men +and boys), than for its innocent vivacity. For, odd as it +may seem to say so, of a sport so full of thoughtlessness and +personal display, it is as free from any taint of immodesty as +any general mingling of the two sexes can possibly be; and there +seems to prevail, during its progress, a feeling of general, +almost childish, simplicity and confidence, which one thinks of +with a pang, when the Ave Maria has rung it away, for a whole +year.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Availing ourselves of a part of the quiet interval between the +termination of the Carnival and the beginning of the Holy Week: +when everybody had run away from the one, and few people had yet +begun to run back again for the other: we went conscientiously to +work, to see Rome. And, by dint of going out early every +morning, and coming back late every evening, and labouring hard +all day, I believe we made acquaintance with every post and +pillar in the city, and the country round; and, in particular, +explored so many churches, that I abandoned that part of the +enterprise at last, before it was half finished, lest I should +never, of my own accord, go to church again, as long as I +lived. But, I managed, almost every day, at one time or +other, to get back to the Coliseum, and out upon the open +Campagna, beyond the Tomb of Cecilia Metella.</p> +<p>We often encountered, in these expeditions, a company of +English Tourists, with whom I had an ardent, but ungratified +longing, to establish a speaking acquaintance. They were +one Mr. Davis, and a small circle of friends. It was +impossible not to know Mrs. Davis’s name, from her being +always in great request among her party, and her party being +everywhere. During the Holy Week, they were in every part +of every scene of every ceremony. For a fortnight or three +weeks before it, they were in every tomb, and every church, and +every ruin, and every Picture Gallery; and I hardly ever observed +Mrs. Davis to be silent for a moment. Deep underground, +high up in St. Peter’s, out on the Campagna, and stifling +in the Jews’ quarter, Mrs. Davis turned up, all the +same. I don’t think she ever saw anything, or ever +looked at anything; and she had always lost something out of a +straw hand-basket, and was trying to find it, with all her might +and main, among an immense quantity of English halfpence, which +lay, like sands upon the sea-shore, at the bottom of it. +There was a professional Cicerone always attached to the party +(which had been brought over from London, fifteen or twenty +strong, by contract), and if he so much as looked at Mrs. Davis, +she invariably cut him short by saying, ‘There, God bless +the man, don’t worrit me! I don’t understand a +word you say, and shouldn’t if you was to talk till you was +black in the face!’ Mr. Davis always had a +snuff-coloured great-coat on, and carried a great green umbrella +in his hand, and had a slow curiosity constantly devouring him, +which prompted him to do extraordinary things, such as taking the +covers off urns in tombs, and looking in at the ashes as if they +were pickles—and tracing out inscriptions with the ferrule +of his umbrella, and saying, with intense thoughtfulness, +‘Here’s a B you see, and there’s a R, and this +is the way we goes on in; is it!’ His antiquarian +habits occasioned his being frequently in the rear of the rest; +and one of the agonies of Mrs. Davis, and the party in general, +was an ever-present fear that Davis would be lost. This +caused them to scream for him, in the strangest places, and at +the most improper seasons. And when he came, slowly +emerging out of some sepulchre or other, like a peaceful Ghoule, +saying ‘Here I am!’ Mrs. Davis invariably replied, +‘You’ll be buried alive in a foreign country, Davis, +and it’s no use trying to prevent you!’</p> +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Davis, and their party, had, probably, been +brought from London in about nine or ten days. Eighteen +hundred years ago, the Roman legions under Claudius, protested +against being led into Mr. and Mrs. Davis’s country, urging +that it lay beyond the limits of the world.</p> +<p>Among what may be called the Cubs or minor Lions of Rome, +there was one that amused me mightily. It is always to be +found there; and its den is on the great flight of steps that +lead from the Piazza di Spágna, to the church of +Trínita del Monte. In plainer words, these steps are +the great place of resort for the artists’ +‘Models,’ and there they are constantly waiting to be +hired. The first time I went up there, I could not conceive +why the faces seemed familiar to me; why they appeared to have +beset me, for years, in every possible variety of action and +costume; and how it came to pass that they started up before me, +in Rome, in the broad day, like so many saddled and bridled +nightmares. I soon found that we had made acquaintance, and +improved it, for several years, on the walls of various +Exhibition Galleries. There is one old gentleman, with long +white hair and an immense beard, who, to my knowledge, has gone +half through the catalogue of the Royal Academy. This is +the venerable, or patriarchal model. He carries a long +staff; and every knot and twist in that staff I have seen, +faithfully delineated, innumerable times. There is another +man in a blue cloak, who always pretends to be asleep in the sun +(when there is any), and who, I need not say, is always very wide +awake, and very attentive to the disposition of his legs. +This is the <i>dolce far’ niente</i> model. There is +another man in a brown cloak, who leans against a wall, with his +arms folded in his mantle, and looks out of the corners of his +eyes: which are just visible beneath his broad slouched +hat. This is the assassin model. There is another +man, who constantly looks over his own shoulder, and is always +going away, but never does. This is the haughty, or +scornful model. As to Domestic Happiness, and Holy +Families, they should come very cheap, for there are lumps of +them, all up the steps; and the cream of the thing is, that they +are all the falsest vagabonds in the world, especially made up +for the purpose, and having no counterparts in Rome or any other +part of the habitable globe.</p> +<p>My recent mention of the Carnival, reminds me of its being +said to be a mock mourning (in the ceremony with which it +closes), for the gaieties and merry-makings before Lent; and this +again reminds me of the real funerals and mourning processions of +Rome, which, like those in most other parts of Italy, are +rendered chiefly remarkable to a Foreigner, by the indifference +with which the mere clay is universally regarded, after life has +left it. And this is not from the survivors having had time +to dissociate the memory of the dead from their well-remembered +appearance and form on earth; for the interment follows too +speedily after death, for that: almost always taking place within +four-and-twenty hours, and, sometimes, within twelve.</p> +<p>At Rome, there is the same arrangement of Pits in a great, +bleak, open, dreary space, that I have already described as +existing in Genoa. When I visited it, at noonday, I saw a +solitary coffin of plain deal: uncovered by any shroud or pall, +and so slightly made, that the hoof of any wandering mule would +have crushed it in: carelessly tumbled down, all on one side, on +the door of one of the pits—and there left, by itself, in +the wind and sunshine. ‘How does it come to be left +here?’ I asked the man who showed me the place. +‘It was brought here half an hour ago, Signore,’ he +said. I remembered to have met the procession, on its +return: straggling away at a good round pace. ‘When +will it be put in the pit?’ I asked him. ‘When +the cart comes, and it is opened to-night,’ he said. +‘How much does it cost to be brought here in this way, +instead of coming in the cart?’ I asked him. +‘Ten scudi,’ he said (about two pounds, +two-and-sixpence, English). ‘The other bodies, for +whom nothing is paid, are taken to the church of the Santa Maria +della Consolázione,’ he continued, ‘and +brought here altogether, in the cart at night.’ I +stood, a moment, looking at the coffin, which had two initial +letters scrawled upon the top; and turned away, with an +expression in my face, I suppose, of not much liking its exposure +in that manner: for he said, shrugging his shoulders with great +vivacity, and giving a pleasant smile, ‘But he’s +dead, Signore, he’s dead. Why not?’</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>Among the innumerable churches, there is one I must select for +separate mention. It is the church of the Ara Coeli, +supposed to be built on the site of the old Temple of Jupiter +Feretrius; and approached, on one side, by a long steep flight of +steps, which seem incomplete without some group of bearded +soothsayers on the top. It is remarkable for the possession +of a miraculous Bambíno, or wooden doll, representing the +Infant Saviour; and I first saw this miraculous Bambíno, +in legal phrase, in manner following, that is to say:</p> +<p>We had strolled into the church one afternoon, and were +looking down its long vista of gloomy pillars (for all these +ancient churches built upon the ruins of old temples, are dark +and sad), when the Brave came running in, with a grin upon his +face that stretched it from ear to ear, and implored us to follow +him, without a moment’s delay, as they were going to show +the Bambíno to a select party. We accordingly +hurried off to a sort of chapel, or sacristy, hard by the chief +altar, but not in the church itself, where the select party, +consisting of two or three Catholic gentlemen and ladies (not +Italians), were already assembled: and where one hollow-cheeked +young monk was lighting up divers candles, while another was +putting on some clerical robes over his coarse brown habit. +The candles were on a kind of altar, and above it were two +delectable figures, such as you would see at any English fair, +representing the Holy Virgin, and Saint Joseph, as I suppose, +bending in devotion over a wooden box, or coffer; which was +shut.</p> +<p>The hollow-cheeked monk, number One, having finished lighting +the candles, went down on his knees, in a corner, before this +set-piece; and the monk number Two, having put on a pair of +highly ornamented and gold-bespattered gloves, lifted down the +coffer, with great reverence, and set it on the altar. +Then, with many genuflexions, and muttering certain prayers, he +opened it, and let down the front, and took off sundry coverings +of satin and lace from the inside. The ladies had been on +their knees from the commencement; and the gentlemen now dropped +down devoutly, as he exposed to view a little wooden doll, in +face very like General Tom Thumb, the American Dwarf: gorgeously +dressed in satin and gold lace, and actually blazing with rich +jewels. There was scarcely a spot upon its little breast, +or neck, or stomach, but was sparkling with the costly offerings +of the Faithful. Presently, he lifted it out of the box, +and carrying it round among the kneelers, set its face against +the forehead of every one, and tendered its clumsy foot to them +to kiss—a ceremony which they all performed down to a dirty +little ragamuffin of a boy who had walked in from the +street. When this was done, he laid it in the box again: +and the company, rising, drew near, and commended the jewels in +whispers. In good time, he replaced the coverings, shut up +the box, put it back in its place, locked up the whole concern +(Holy Family and all) behind a pair of folding-doors; took off +his priestly vestments; and received the customary ‘small +charge,’ while his companion, by means of an extinguisher +fastened to the end of a long stick, put out the lights, one +after another. The candles being all extinguished, and the +money all collected, they retired, and so did the spectators.</p> +<p>I met this same Bambíno, in the street a short time +afterwards, going, in great state, to the house of some sick +person. It is taken to all parts of Rome for this purpose, +constantly; but, I understand that it is not always as successful +as could be wished; for, making its appearance at the bedside of +weak and nervous people in extremity, accompanied by a numerous +escort, it not unfrequently frightens them to death. It is +most popular in cases of child-birth, where it has done such +wonders, that if a lady be longer than usual in getting through +her difficulties, a messenger is despatched, with all speed, to +solicit the immediate attendance of the Bambíno. It +is a very valuable property, and much confided +in—especially by the religious body to whom it belongs.</p> +<p>I am happy to know that it is not considered immaculate, by +some who are good Catholics, and who are behind the scenes, from +what was told me by the near relation of a Priest, himself a +Catholic, and a gentleman of learning and intelligence. +This Priest made my informant promise that he would, on no +account, allow the Bambíno to be borne into the bedroom of +a sick lady, in whom they were both interested. +‘For,’ said he, ‘if they (the monks) trouble +her with it, and intrude themselves into her room, it will +certainly kill her.’ My informant accordingly looked +out of the window when it came; and, with many thanks, declined +to open the door. He endeavoured, in another case of which +he had no other knowledge than such as he gained as a passer-by +at the moment, to prevent its being carried into a small +unwholesome chamber, where a poor girl was dying. But, he +strove against it unsuccessfully, and she expired while the crowd +were pressing round her bed.</p> +<p>Among the people who drop into St. Peter’s at their +leisure, to kneel on the pavement, and say a quiet prayer, there +are certain schools and seminaries, priestly and otherwise, that +come in, twenty or thirty strong. These boys always kneel +down in single file, one behind the other, with a tall grim +master in a black gown, bringing up the rear: like a pack of +cards arranged to be tumbled down at a touch, with a +disproportionately large Knave of clubs at the end. When +they have had a minute or so at the chief altar, they scramble +up, and filing off to the chapel of the Madonna, or the +sacrament, flop down again in the same order; so that if anybody +did stumble against the master, a general and sudden overthrow of +the whole line must inevitably ensue.</p> +<p>The scene in all the churches is the strangest possible. +The same monotonous, heartless, drowsy chaunting, always going +on; the same dark building, darker from the brightness of the +street without; the same lamps dimly burning; the selfsame people +kneeling here and there; turned towards you, from one altar or +other, the same priest’s back, with the same large cross +embroidered on it; however different in size, in shape, in +wealth, in architecture, this church is from that, it is the same +thing still. There are the same dirty beggars stopping in +their muttered prayers to beg; the same miserable cripples +exhibiting their deformity at the doors; the same blind men, +rattling little pots like kitchen pepper-castors: their +depositories for alms; the same preposterous crowns of silver +stuck upon the painted heads of single saints and Virgins in +crowded pictures, so that a little figure on a mountain has a +head-dress bigger than the temple in the foreground, or adjacent +miles of landscape; the same favourite shrine or figure, +smothered with little silver hearts and crosses, and the like: +the staple trade and show of all the jewellers; the same odd +mixture of respect and indecorum, faith and phlegm: kneeling on +the stones, and spitting on them, loudly; getting up from prayers +to beg a little, or to pursue some other worldly matter: and then +kneeling down again, to resume the contrite supplication at the +point where it was interrupted. In one church, a kneeling +lady got up from her prayer, for a moment, to offer us her card, +as a teacher of Music; and in another, a sedate gentleman with a +very thick walking-staff, arose from his devotions to belabour +his dog, who was growling at another dog: and whose yelps and +howls resounded through the church, as his master quietly +relapsed into his former train of meditation—keeping his +eye upon the dog, at the same time, nevertheless.</p> +<p>Above all, there is always a receptacle for the contributions +of the Faithful, in some form or other. Sometimes, it is a +money-box, set up between the worshipper, and the wooden +life-size figure of the Redeemer; sometimes, it is a little chest +for the maintenance of the Virgin; sometimes, an appeal on behalf +of a popular Bambíno; sometimes, a bag at the end of a +long stick, thrust among the people here and there, and +vigilantly jingled by an active Sacristan; but there it always +is, and, very often, in many shapes in the same church, and doing +pretty well in all. Nor, is it wanting in the open +air—the streets and roads—for, often as you are +walking along, thinking about anything rather than a tin +canister, that object pounces out upon you from a little house by +the wayside; and on its top is painted, ‘For the Souls in +Purgatory;’ an appeal which the bearer repeats a great many +times, as he rattles it before you, much as Punch rattles the +cracked bell which his sanguine disposition makes an organ +of.</p> +<p>And this reminds me that some Roman altars of peculiar +sanctity, bear the inscription, ‘Every Mass performed at +this altar frees a soul from Purgatory.’ I have never +been able to find out the charge for one of these services, but +they should needs be expensive. There are several Crosses +in Rome too, the kissing of which, confers indulgences for +varying terms. That in the centre of the Coliseum, is worth +a hundred days; and people may be seen kissing it from morning to +night. It is curious that some of these crosses seem to +acquire an arbitrary popularity: this very one among them. +In another part of the Coliseum there is a cross upon a marble +slab, with the inscription, ‘Who kisses this cross shall be +entitled to Two hundred and forty days’ +indulgence.’ But I saw no one person kiss it, though, +day after day, I sat in the arena, and saw scores upon scores of +peasants pass it, on their way to kiss the other.</p> +<p>To single out details from the great dream of Roman Churches, +would be the wildest occupation in the world. But St. +Stefano Rotondo, a damp, mildewed vault of an old church in the +outskirts of Rome, will always struggle uppermost in my mind, by +reason of the hideous paintings with which its walls are +covered. These represent the martyrdoms of saints and early +Christians; and such a panorama of horror and butchery no man +could imagine in his sleep, though he were to eat a whole pig +raw, for supper. Grey-bearded men being boiled, fried, +grilled, crimped, singed, eaten by wild beasts, worried by dogs, +buried alive, torn asunder by horses, chopped up small with +hatchets: women having their breasts torn with iron pinchers, +their tongues cut out, their ears screwed off, their jaws broken, +their bodies stretched upon the rack, or skinned upon the stake, +or crackled up and melted in the fire: these are among the +mildest subjects. So insisted on, and laboured at, besides, +that every sufferer gives you the same occasion for wonder as +poor old Duncan awoke, in Lady Macbeth, when she marvelled at his +having so much blood in him.</p> +<p>There is an upper chamber in the Mamertine prisons, over what +is said to have been—and very possibly may have +been—the dungeon of St. Peter. This chamber is now +fitted up as an oratory, dedicated to that saint; and it lives, +as a distinct and separate place, in my recollection, too. +It is very small and low-roofed; and the dread and gloom of the +ponderous, obdurate old prison are on it, as if they had come up +in a dark mist through the floor. Hanging on the walls, +among the clustered votive offerings, are objects, at once +strangely in keeping, and strangely at variance, with the +place—rusty daggers, knives, pistols, clubs, divers +instruments of violence and murder, brought here, fresh from use, +and hung up to propitiate offended Heaven: as if the blood upon +them would drain off in consecrated air, and have no voice to cry +with. It is all so silent and so close, and tomb-like; and +the dungeons below are so black and stealthy, and stagnant, and +naked; that this little dark spot becomes a dream within a dream: +and in the vision of great churches which come rolling past me +like a sea, it is a small wave by itself, that melts into no +other wave, and does not flow on with the rest.</p> +<p>It is an awful thing to think of the enormous caverns that are +entered from some Roman churches, and undermine the city. +Many churches have crypts and subterranean chapels of great size, +which, in the ancient time, were baths, and secret chambers of +temples, and what not: but I do not speak of them. Beneath +the church of St. Giovanni and St. Paolo, there are the jaws of a +terrific range of caverns, hewn out of the rock, and said to have +another outlet underneath the Coliseum—tremendous +darknesses of vast extent, half-buried in the earth and +unexplorable, where the dull torches, flashed by the attendants, +glimmer down long ranges of distant vaults branching to the right +and left, like streets in a city of the dead; and show the cold +damp stealing down the walls, drip-drop, drip-drop, to join the +pools of water that lie here and there, and never saw, or never +will see, one ray of the sun. Some accounts make these the +prisons of the wild beasts destined for the amphitheatre; some +the prisons of the condemned gladiators; some, both. But +the legend most appalling to the fancy is, that in the upper +range (for there are two stories of these caves) the Early +Christians destined to be eaten at the Coliseum Shows, heard the +wild beasts, hungry for them, roaring down below; until, upon the +<a name="page326"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 326</span>night +and solitude of their captivity, there burst the sudden noon and +life of the vast theatre crowded to the parapet, and of these, +their dreaded neighbours, bounding in!</p> +<p>Below the church of San Sebastiano, two miles beyond the gate +of San Sebastiano, on the Appian Way, is the entrance to the +catacombs of Rome—quarries in the old time, but afterwards +the hiding-places of the Christians. These ghastly passages +have been explored for twenty miles; and form a chain of +labyrinths, sixty miles in circumference.</p> +<p>A gaunt Franciscan friar, with a wild bright eye, was our only +guide, down into this profound and dreadful place. The +narrow ways and openings hither and thither, coupled with the +dead and heavy air, soon blotted out, in all of us, any +recollection of the track by which we had come: and I could not +help thinking ‘Good Heaven, if, in a sudden fit of madness, +he should dash the torches out, or if he should be seized with a +fit, what would become of us!’ On we wandered, among +martyrs’ graves: passing great subterranean vaulted roads, +diverging in all directions, and choked up with heaps of stones, +that thieves and murderers may not take refuge there, and form a +population under Rome, even worse than that which lives between +it and the sun. Graves, graves, graves; Graves of men, of +women, of their little children, who ran crying to the +persecutors, ‘We are Christians! We are +Christians!’ that they might be murdered with their +parents; Graves with the palm of martyrdom roughly cut into their +stone boundaries, and little niches, made to hold a vessel of the +martyrs’ blood; Graves of some who lived down here, for +years together, ministering to the rest, and preaching truth, and +hope, and comfort, from the rude altars, that bear witness to +their fortitude at this hour; more roomy graves, but far more +terrible, where hundreds, being surprised, were hemmed in and +walled up: buried before Death, and killed by slow +starvation.</p> +<p>‘The Triumphs of the Faith are not above ground in our +splendid churches,’ said the friar, looking round upon us, +as we stopped to rest in one of the low passages, with bones and +dust surrounding us on every side. ‘They are +here! Among the Martyrs’ Graves!’ He was +a gentle, earnest man, and said it from his heart; but when I +thought how Christian men have dealt with one another; how, +perverting our most merciful religion, they have hunted down and +tortured, burnt and beheaded, strangled, slaughtered, and +oppressed each other; I pictured to myself an agony surpassing +any that this Dust had suffered with the breath of life yet +lingering in it, and how these great and constant hearts would +have been shaken—how they would have quailed and +drooped—if a foreknowledge of the deeds that professing +Christians would commit in the Great Name for which they died, +could have rent them with its own unutterable anguish, on the +cruel wheel, and bitter cross, and in the fearful fire.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/p326b.jpg"> +<img alt= +"In the Catacombs" +title= +"In the Catacombs" +src="images/p326s.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p>Such are the spots and patches in my dream of churches, that +remain apart, and keep their separate identity. I have a +fainter recollection, sometimes of the relics; of the fragments +of the pillar of the Temple that was rent in twain; of the +portion of the table that was spread for the Last Supper; of the +well at which the woman of Samaria gave water to Our Saviour; of +two columns from the house of Pontius Pilate; of the stone to +which the Sacred hands were bound, when the scourging was +performed; of the grid-iron of Saint Lawrence, and the stone +below it, marked with the frying of his fat and blood; these set +a shadowy mark on some cathedrals, as an old story, or a fable +might, and stop them for an instant, as they flit before +me. The rest is a vast wilderness of consecrated buildings +of all shapes and fancies, blending one with another; of battered +pillars of old Pagan temples, dug up from the ground, and forced, +like giant captives, to support the roofs of Christian churches; +of pictures, bad, and wonderful, and impious, and ridiculous; of +kneeling people, curling incense, tinkling bells, and sometimes +(but not often) of a swelling organ: of Madonne, with their +breasts stuck full of swords, arranged in a half-circle like a +modern fan; of actual skeletons of dead saints, hideously attired +in gaudy satins, silks, and velvets trimmed with gold: their +withered crust of skull adorned with precious jewels, or with +chaplets of crushed flowers; sometimes of people gathered round +the pulpit, and a monk within it stretching out the crucifix, and +preaching fiercely: the sun just streaming down through some high +window on the sail-cloth stretched above him and across the +church, to keep his high-pitched voice from being lost among the +echoes of the roof. Then my tired memory comes out upon a +flight of steps, where knots of people are asleep, or basking in +the light; and strolls away, among the rags, and smells, and +palaces, and hovels, of an old Italian street.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>On one Saturday morning (the eighth of March), a man was +beheaded here. Nine or ten months before, he had waylaid a +Bavarian countess, travelling as a pilgrim to Rome—alone +and on foot, of course—and performing, it is said, that act +of piety for the fourth time. He saw her change a piece of +gold at Viterbo, where he lived; followed her; bore her company +on her journey for some forty miles or more, on the treacherous +pretext of protecting her; attacked her, in the fulfilment of his +unrelenting purpose, on the Campagna, within a very short +distance of Rome, near to what is called (but what is not) the +Tomb of Nero; robbed her; and beat her to death with her own +pilgrim’s staff. He was newly married, and gave some +of her apparel to his wife: saying that he had bought it at a +fair. She, however, who had seen the pilgrim-countess +passing through their town, recognised some trifle as having +belonged to her. Her husband then told her what he had +done. She, in confession, told a priest; and the man was +taken, within four days after the commission of the murder.</p> +<p>There are no fixed times for the administration of justice, or +its execution, in this unaccountable country; and he had been in +prison ever since. On the Friday, as he was dining with the +other prisoners, they came and told him he was to be beheaded +next morning, and took him away. It is very unusual to +execute in Lent; but his crime being a very bad one, it was +deemed advisable to make an example of him at that time, when +great numbers of pilgrims were coming towards Rome, from all +parts, for the Holy Week. I heard of this on the Friday +evening, and saw the bills up at the churches, calling on the +people to pray for the criminal’s soul. So, I +determined to go, and see him executed.</p> +<p>The beheading was appointed for fourteen and a-half +o’clock, Roman time: or a quarter before nine in the +forenoon. I had two friends with me; and as we did not know +but that the crowd might be very great, we were on the spot by +half-past seven. The place of execution was near the church +of San Giovanni decolláto (a doubtful compliment to Saint +John the Baptist) in one of the impassable back streets without +any footway, of which a great part of Rome is composed—a +street of rotten houses, which do not seem to belong to anybody, +and do not seem to have ever been inhabited, and certainly were +never built on any plan, or for any particular purpose, and have +no window-sashes, and are a little like deserted breweries, and +might be warehouses but for having nothing in them. +Opposite to one of these, a white house, the scaffold was +built. An untidy, unpainted, uncouth, crazy-looking thing +of course: some seven feet high, perhaps: with a tall, +gallows-shaped frame rising above it, in which was the knife, +charged with a ponderous mass of iron, all ready to descend, and +glittering brightly in the morning sun, whenever it looked out, +now and then, from behind a cloud.</p> +<p>There were not many people lingering about; and these were +kept at a considerable distance from the scaffold, by parties of +the Pope’s dragoons. Two or three hundred +foot-soldiers were under arms, standing at ease in clusters here +and there; and the officers were walking up and down in twos and +threes, chatting together, and smoking cigars.</p> +<p>At the end of the street, was an open space, where there would +be a dust-heap, and piles of broken crockery, and mounds of +vegetable refuse, but for such things being thrown anywhere and +everywhere in Rome, and favouring no particular sort of +locality. We got into a kind of wash-house, belonging to a +dwelling-house on this spot; and standing there in an old cart, +and on a heap of cartwheels piled against the wall, looked, +through a large grated window, at the scaffold, and straight down +the street beyond it until, in consequence of its turning off +abruptly to the left, our perspective was brought to a sudden +termination, and had a corpulent officer, in a cocked hat, for +its crowning feature.</p> +<p>Nine o’clock struck, and ten o’clock struck, and +nothing happened. All the bells of all the churches rang as +usual. A little parliament of dogs assembled in the open +space, and chased each other, in and out among the +soldiers. Fierce-looking Romans of the lowest class, in +blue cloaks, russet cloaks, and rags uncloaked, came and went, +and talked together. Women and children fluttered, on the +skirts of the scanty crowd. One large muddy spot was left +quite bare, like a bald place on a man’s head. A +cigar-merchant, with an earthen pot of charcoal ashes in one +hand, went up and down, crying his wares. A pastry-merchant +divided his attention between the scaffold and his +customers. Boys tried to climb up walls, and tumbled down +again. Priests and monks elbowed a passage for themselves +among the people, and stood on tiptoe for a sight of the knife: +then went away. Artists, in inconceivable hats of the +middle-ages, and beards (thank Heaven!) of no age at all, flashed +picturesque scowls about them from their stations in the +throng. One gentleman (connected with the fine arts, I +presume) went up and down in a pair of Hessian-boots, with a red +beard hanging down on his breast, and his long and bright red +hair, plaited into two tails, one on either side of his head, +which fell over his shoulders in front of him, very nearly to his +waist, and were carefully entwined and braided!</p> +<p>Eleven o’clock struck and still nothing happened. +A rumour got about, among the crowd, that the criminal would not +confess; in which case, the priests would keep him until the Ave +Maria (sunset); for it is their merciful custom never finally to +turn the crucifix away from a man at that pass, as one refusing +to be shriven, and consequently a sinner abandoned of the +Saviour, until then. People began to drop off. The +officers shrugged their shoulders and looked doubtful. The +dragoons, who came riding up below our window, every now and +then, to order an unlucky hackney-coach or cart away, as soon as +it had comfortably established itself, and was covered with +exulting people (but never before), became imperious, and +quick-tempered. The bald place hadn’t a straggling +hair upon it; and the corpulent officer, crowning the +perspective, took a world of snuff.</p> +<p>Suddenly, there was a noise of trumpets. +‘Attention!’ was among the foot-soldiers +instantly. They were marched up to the scaffold and formed +round it. The dragoons galloped to their nearer stations +too. The guillotine became the centre of a wood of +bristling bayonets and shining sabres. The people closed +round nearer, on the flank of the soldiery. A long +straggling stream of men and boys, who had accompanied the +procession from the prison, came pouring into the open +space. The bald spot was scarcely distinguishable from the +rest. The cigar and pastry-merchants resigned all thoughts +of business, for the moment, and abandoning themselves wholly to +pleasure, got good situations in the crowd. The perspective +ended, now, in a troop of dragoons. And the corpulent +officer, sword in hand, looked hard at a church close to him, +which he could see, but we, the crowd, could not.</p> +<p>After a short delay, some monks were seen approaching to the +scaffold from this church; and above their heads, coming on +slowly and gloomily, the effigy of Christ upon the cross, +canopied with black. This was carried round the foot of the +scaffold, to the front, and turned towards the criminal, that he +might see it to the last. It was hardly in its place, when +he appeared on the platform, bare-footed; his hands bound; and +with the collar and neck of his shirt cut away, almost to the +shoulder. A young man—six-and-twenty—vigorously +made, and well-shaped. Face pale; small dark moustache; and +dark brown hair.</p> +<p>He had refused to confess, it seemed, without first having his +wife brought to see him; and they had sent an escort for her, +which had occasioned the delay.</p> +<p>He immediately kneeled down, below the knife. His neck +fitting into a hole, made for the purpose, in a cross plank, was +shut down, by another plank above; exactly like the +pillory. Immediately below him was a leathern bag. +And into it his head rolled instantly.</p> +<p>The executioner was holding it by the hair, and walking with +it round the scaffold, showing it to the people, before one quite +knew that the knife had fallen heavily, and with a rattling +sound.</p> +<p>When it had travelled round the four sides of the scaffold, it +was set upon a pole in front—a little patch of black and +white, for the long street to stare at, and the flies to settle +on. The eyes were turned upward, as if he had avoided the +sight of the leathern bag, and looked to the crucifix. +Every tinge and hue of life had left it in that instant. It +was dull, cold, livid, wax. The body also.</p> +<p>There was a great deal of blood. When we left the +window, and went close up to the scaffold, it was very dirty; one +of the two men who were throwing water over it, turning to help +the other lift the body into a shell, picked his way as through +mire. A strange appearance was the apparent annihilation of +the neck. The head was taken off so close, that it seemed +as if the knife had narrowly escaped crushing the jaw, or shaving +off the ear; and the body looked as if there were nothing left +above the shoulder.</p> +<p>Nobody cared, or was at all affected. There was no +manifestation of disgust, or pity, or indignation, or +sorrow. My empty pockets were tried, several times, in the +crowd immediately below the scaffold, as the corpse was being put +into its coffin. It was an ugly, filthy, careless, +sickening spectacle; meaning nothing but butchery beyond the +momentary interest, to the one wretched actor. Yes! +Such a sight has one meaning and one warning. Let me not +forget it. The speculators in the lottery, station +themselves at favourable points for counting the gouts of blood +that spirt out, here or there; and buy that number. It is +pretty sure to have a run upon it.</p> +<p>The body was carted away in due time, the knife cleansed, the +scaffold taken down, and all the hideous apparatus removed. +The executioner: an outlaw <i>ex officio</i> (what a satire on +the Punishment!) who dare not, for his life, cross the Bridge of +St. Angelo but to do his work: retreated to his lair, and the +show was over.</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p>At the head of the collections in the palaces of Rome, the +Vatican, of course, with its treasures of art, its enormous +galleries, and staircases, and suites upon suites of immense +chambers, ranks highest and stands foremost. Many most +noble statues, and wonderful pictures, are there; nor is it +heresy to say that there is a considerable amount of rubbish +there, too. When any old piece of sculpture dug out of the +ground, finds a place in a gallery because it is old, and without +any reference to its intrinsic merits: and finds admirers by the +hundred, because it is there, and for no other reason on earth: +there will be no lack of objects, very indifferent in the plain +eyesight of any one who employs so vulgar a property, when he may +wear the spectacles of Cant for less than nothing, and establish +himself as a man of taste for the mere trouble of putting them +on.</p> +<p>I unreservedly confess, for myself, that I cannot leave my +natural perception of what is natural and true, at a palace-door, +in Italy or elsewhere, as I should leave my shoes if I were +travelling in the East. I cannot forget that there are +certain expressions of face, natural to certain passions, and as +unchangeable in their nature as the gait of a lion, or the flight +of an eagle. I cannot dismiss from my certain knowledge, +such commonplace facts as the ordinary proportion of men’s +arms, and legs, and heads; and when I meet with performances that +do violence to these experiences and recollections, no matter +where they may be, I cannot honestly admire them, and think it +best to say so; in spite of high critical advice that we should +sometimes feign an admiration, though we have it not.</p> +<p>Therefore, I freely acknowledge that when I see a jolly young +Waterman representing a cherubim, or a Barclay and +Perkins’s Drayman depicted as an Evangelist, I see nothing +to commend or admire in the performance, however great its +reputed Painter. Neither am I partial to libellous Angels, +who play on fiddles and bassoons, for the edification of +sprawling monks apparently in liquor. Nor to those Monsieur +Tonsons of galleries, Saint Francis and Saint Sebastian; both of +whom I submit should have very uncommon and rare merits, as works +of art, to justify their compound multiplication by Italian +Painters.</p> +<p>It seems to me, too, that the indiscriminate and determined +raptures in which some critics indulge, is incompatible with the +true appreciation of the really great and transcendent +works. I cannot imagine, for example, how the resolute +champion of undeserving pictures can soar to the amazing beauty +of Titian’s great picture of the Assumption of the Virgin +at Venice; or how the man who is truly affected by the sublimity +of that exquisite production, or who is truly sensible of the +beauty of Tintoretto’s great picture of the Assembly of the +Blessed in the same place, can discern in Michael Angelo’s +Last Judgment, in the Sistine chapel, any general idea, or one +pervading thought, in harmony with the stupendous subject. +He who will contemplate Raphael’s masterpiece, the +Transfiguration, and will go away into another chamber of that +same Vatican, and contemplate another design of Raphael, +representing (in incredible caricature) the miraculous stopping +of a great fire by Leo the Fourth—and who will say that he +admires them both, as works of extraordinary genius—must, +as I think, be wanting in his powers of perception in one of the +two instances, and, probably, in the high and lofty one.</p> +<p>It is easy to suggest a doubt, but I have a great doubt +whether, sometimes, the rules of art are not too strictly +observed, and whether it is quite well or agreeable that we +should know beforehand, where this figure will be turning round, +and where that figure will be lying down, and where there will be +drapery in folds, and so forth. When I observe heads +inferior to the subject, in pictures of merit, in Italian +galleries, I do not attach that reproach to the Painter, for I +have a suspicion that these great men, who were, of necessity, +very much in the hands of monks and priests, painted monks and +priests a great deal too often. I frequently see, in +pictures of real power, heads quite below the story and the +painter: and I invariably observe that those heads are of the +Convent stamp, and have their counterparts among the Convent +inmates of this hour; so, I have settled with myself that, in +such cases, the lameness was not with the painter, but with the +vanity and ignorance of certain of his employers, who would be +apostles—on canvas, at all events.</p> +<p>The exquisite grace and beauty of Canova’s statues; the +wonderful gravity and repose of many of the ancient works in +sculpture, both in the Capitol and the Vatican; and the strength +and fire of many others; are, in their different ways, beyond all +reach of words. They are especially impressive and +delightful, after the works of Bernini and his disciples, in +which the churches of Rome, from St. Peter’s downward, +abound; and which are, I verily believe, the most detestable +class of productions in the wide world. I would infinitely +rather (as mere works of art) look upon the three deities of the +Past, the Present, and the Future, in the Chinese Collection, +than upon the best of these breezy maniacs; whose every fold of +drapery is blown inside-out; whose smallest vein, or artery, is +as big as an ordinary forefinger; whose hair is like a nest of +lively snakes; and whose attitudes put all other extravagance to +shame. Insomuch that I do honestly believe, there can be no +place in the world, where such intolerable abortions, begotten of +the sculptor’s chisel, are to be found in such profusion, +as in Rome.</p> +<p>There is a fine collection of Egyptian antiquities, in the +Vatican; and the ceilings of the rooms in which they are +arranged, are painted to represent a starlight sky in the +Desert. It may seem an odd idea, but it is very +effective. The grim, half-human monsters from the temples, +look more grim and monstrous underneath the deep dark blue; it +sheds a strange uncertain gloomy air on everything—a +mystery adapted to the objects; and you leave them, as you find +them, shrouded in a solemn night.</p> +<p>In the private palaces, pictures are seen to the best +advantage. There are seldom so many in one place that the +attention need become distracted, or the eye confused. You +see them very leisurely; and are rarely interrupted by a crowd of +people. There are portraits innumerable, by Titian, and +Rembrandt, and Vandyke; heads by Guido, and Domenichino, and +Carlo Dolci; various subjects by Correggio, and Murillo, and +Raphael, and Salvator Rosa, and Spagnoletto—many of which +it would be difficult, indeed, to praise too highly, or to praise +enough; such is their tenderness and grace; their noble +elevation, purity, and beauty.</p> +<p>The portrait of Beatrice di Cenci, in the Palazzo Berberini, +is a picture almost impossible to be forgotten. Through the +transcendent sweetness and beauty of the face, there is a +something shining out, that haunts me. I see it now, as I +see this paper, or my pen. The head is loosely draped in +white; the light hair falling down below the linen folds. +She has turned suddenly towards you; and there is an expression +in the eyes—although they are very tender and +gentle—as if the wildness of a momentary terror, or +distraction, had been struggled with and overcome, that instant; +and nothing but a celestial hope, and a beautiful sorrow, and a +desolate earthly helplessness remained. Some stories say +that Guido painted it, the night before her execution; some other +stories, that he painted it from memory, after having seen her, +on her way to the scaffold. I am willing to believe that, +as you see her on his canvas, so she turned towards him, in the +crowd, from the first sight of the axe, and stamped upon his mind +a look which he has stamped on mine as though I had stood beside +him in the concourse. The guilty palace of the Cenci: +blighting a whole quarter of the town, as it stands withering +away by grains: had that face, to my fancy, in its dismal porch, +and at its black, blind windows, and flitting up and down its +dreary stairs, and growing out of the darkness of the ghostly +galleries. The History is written in the Painting; written, +in the dying girl’s face, by Nature’s own hand. +And oh! how in that one touch she puts to flight (instead of +making kin) the puny world that claim to be related to her, in +right of poor conventional forgeries!</p> +<p>I saw in the Palazzo Spada, the statue of Pompey; the statue +at whose base Cæsar fell. A stern, tremendous +figure! I imagined one of greater finish: of the last +refinement: full of delicate touches: losing its distinctness, in +the giddy eyes of one whose blood was ebbing before it, and +settling into some such rigid majesty as this, as Death came +creeping over the upturned face.</p> +<p>The excursions in the neighbourhood of Rome are charming, and +would be full of interest were it only for the changing views +they afford, of the wild Campagna. But, every inch of +ground, in every direction, is rich in associations, and in +natural beauties. There is Albano, with its lovely lake and +wooded shore, and with its wine, that certainly has not improved +since the days of Horace, and in these times hardly justifies his +panegyric. There is squalid Tivoli, with the river Anio, +diverted from its course, and plunging down, headlong, some +eighty feet in search of it. With its picturesque Temple of +the Sibyl, perched high on a crag; its minor waterfalls glancing +and sparkling in the sun; and one good cavern yawning darkly, +where the river takes a fearful plunge and shoots on, low down +under beetling rocks. There, too, is the Villa +d’Este, deserted and decaying among groves of melancholy +pine and cypress trees, where it seems to lie in state. +Then, there is Frascati, and, on the steep above it, the ruins of +Tusculum, where Cicero lived, and wrote, and adorned his +favourite house (some fragments of it may yet be seen there), and +where Cato was born. We saw its ruined amphitheatre on a +grey, dull day, when a shrill March wind was blowing, and when +the scattered stones of the old city lay strewn about the lonely +eminence, as desolate and dead as the ashes of a long +extinguished fire.</p> +<p>One day we walked out, a little party of three, to Albano, +fourteen miles distant; possessed by a great desire to go there +by the ancient Appian way, long since ruined and overgrown. +We started at half-past seven in the morning, and within an hour +or so were out upon the open Campagna. For twelve miles we +went climbing on, over an unbroken succession of mounds, and +heaps, and hills, of ruin. Tombs and temples, overthrown +and prostrate; small fragments of columns, friezes, pediments; +great blocks of granite and marble; mouldering arches, +grass-grown and decayed; ruin enough to build a spacious city +from; lay strewn about us. Sometimes, loose walls, built up +from these fragments by the shepherds, came across our path; +sometimes, a ditch between two mounds of broken stones, +obstructed our progress; sometimes, the fragments themselves, +rolling from beneath our feet, made it a toilsome matter to +advance; but it was always ruin. Now, we tracked a piece of +the old road, above the ground; now traced it, underneath a +grassy covering, as if that were its grave; but all the way was +ruin. In the distance, ruined aqueducts went stalking on +their giant course along the plain; and every breath of wind that +swept towards us, stirred early flowers and grasses, springing +up, spontaneously, on miles of ruin. The unseen larks above +us, who alone disturbed the awful silence, had their nests in +ruin; and the fierce herdsmen, clad in sheepskins, who now and +then scowled out upon us from their sleeping nooks, were housed +in ruin. The aspect of the desolate Campagna in one +direction, where it was most level, reminded me of an American +prairie; but what is the solitude of a region where men have +never dwelt, to that of a Desert, where a mighty race have left +their footprints in the earth from which they have vanished; +where the resting-places of their Dead, have fallen like their +Dead; and the broken hour-glass of Time is but a heap of idle +dust! Returning, by the road, at sunset! and looking, from +the distance, on the course we had taken in the morning, I almost +feel (as I had felt when I first saw it, at that hour) as if the +sun would never rise again, but looked its last, that night, upon +a ruined world.</p> +<p>To come again on Rome, by moonlight, after such an expedition, +is a fitting close to such a day. The narrow streets, +devoid of footways, and choked, in every obscure corner, by heaps +of dunghill-rubbish, contrast so strongly, in their cramped +dimensions, and their filth, and darkness, with the broad square +before some haughty church: in the centre of which, a +hieroglyphic-covered obelisk, brought from Egypt in the days of +the Emperors, looks strangely on the foreign scene about it; or +perhaps an ancient pillar, with its honoured statue overthrown, +supports a Christian saint: Marcus Aurelius giving place to Paul, +and Trajan to St. Peter. Then, there are the ponderous +buildings reared from the spoliation of the Coliseum, shutting +out the moon, like mountains: while here and there, are broken +arches and rent walls, through which it gushes freely, as the +life comes pouring from a wound. The little town of +miserable houses, walled, and shut in by barred gates, is the +quarter where the Jews are locked up nightly, when the clock +strikes eight—a miserable place, densely populated, and +reeking with bad odours, but where the people are industrious and +money-getting. In the day-time, as you make your way along +the narrow streets, you see them all at work: upon the pavement, +oftener than in their dark and frouzy shops: furbishing old +clothes, and driving bargains.</p> +<p>Crossing from these patches of thick darkness, out into the +moon once more, the fountain of Trevi, welling from a hundred +jets, and rolling over mimic rocks, is silvery to the eye and +ear. In the narrow little throat of street, beyond, a +booth, dressed out with flaring lamps, and boughs of trees, +attracts a group of sulky Romans round its smoky coppers of hot +broth, and cauliflower stew; its trays of fried fish, and its +flasks of wine. As you rattle round the sharply-twisting +corner, a lumbering sound is heard. The coachman stops +abruptly, and uncovers, as a van comes slowly by, preceded by a +man who bears a large cross; by a torch-bearer; and a priest: the +latter chaunting as he goes. It is the Dead Cart, with the +bodies of the poor, on their way to burial in the Sacred Field +outside the walls, where they will be thrown into the pit that +will be covered with a stone to-night, and sealed up for a +year.</p> +<p>But whether, in this ride, you pass by obelisks, or columns +ancient temples, theatres, houses, porticoes, or forums: it is +strange to see, how every fragment, whenever it is possible, has +been blended into some modern structure, and made to serve some +modern purpose—a wall, a dwelling-place, a granary, a +stable—some use for which it never was designed, and +associated with which it cannot otherwise than lamely +assort. It is stranger still, to see how many ruins of the +old mythology: how many fragments of obsolete legend and +observance: have been incorporated into the worship of Christian +altars here; and how, in numberless respects, the false faith and +the true are fused into a monstrous union.</p> +<p>From one part of the city, looking out beyond the walls, a +squat and stunted pyramid (the burial-place of Caius Cestius) +makes an opaque triangle in the moonlight. But, to an +English traveller, it serves to mark the grave of Shelley too, +whose ashes lie beneath a little garden near it. Nearer +still, almost within its shadow, lie the bones of Keats, +‘whose name is writ in water,’ that shines brightly +in the landscape of a calm Italian night.</p> +<p>The Holy Week in Rome is supposed to offer great attractions +to all visitors; but, saving for the sights of Easter Sunday, I +would counsel those who go to Rome for its own interest, to avoid +it at that time. The ceremonies, in general, are of the +most tedious and wearisome kind; the heat and crowd at every one +of them, painfully oppressive; the noise, hubbub, and confusion, +quite distracting. We abandoned the pursuit of these shows, +very early in the proceedings, and betook ourselves to the Ruins +again. But, we plunged into the crowd for a share of the +best of the sights; and what we saw, I will describe to you.</p> +<p>At the Sistine chapel, on the Wednesday, we saw very little, +for by the time we reached it (though we were early) the +besieging crowd had filled it to the door, and overflowed into +the adjoining hall, where they were struggling, and squeezing, +and mutually expostulating, and making great rushes every time a +lady was brought out faint, as if at least fifty people could be +accommodated in her vacant standing-room. Hanging in the +doorway of the chapel, was a heavy curtain, and this curtain, +some twenty people nearest to it, in their anxiety to hear the +chaunting of the Miserere, were continually plucking at, in +opposition to each other, that it might not fall down and stifle +the sound of the voices. The consequence was, that it +occasioned the most extraordinary confusion, and seemed to wind +itself about the unwary, like a Serpent. Now, a lady was +wrapped up in it, and couldn’t be unwound. Now, the +voice of a stifling gentleman was heard inside it, beseeching to +be let out. Now, two muffled arms, no man could say of +which sex, struggled in it as in a sack. Now, it was +carried by a rush, bodily overhead into the chapel, like an +awning. Now, it came out the other way, and blinded one of +the Pope’s Swiss Guard, who had arrived, that moment, to +set things to rights.</p> +<p>Being seated at a little distance, among two or three of the +Pope’s gentlemen, who were very weary and counting the +minutes—as perhaps his Holiness was too—we had better +opportunities of observing this eccentric entertainment, than of +hearing the Miserere. Sometimes, there was a swell of +mournful voices that sounded very pathetic and sad, and died +away, into a low strain again; but that was all we heard.</p> +<p>At another time, there was the Exhibition of Relics in St. +Peter’s, which took place at between six and seven +o’clock in the evening, and was striking from the cathedral +being dark and gloomy, and having a great many people in +it. The place into which the relics were brought, one by +one, by a party of three priests, was a high balcony near the +chief altar. This was the only lighted part of the +church. There are always a hundred and twelve lamps burning +near the altar, and there were two tall tapers, besides, near the +black statue of St. Peter; but these were nothing in such an +immense edifice. The gloom, and the general upturning of +faces to the balcony, and the prostration of true believers on +the pavement, as shining objects, like pictures or +looking-glasses, were brought out and shown, had something +effective in it, despite the very preposterous manner in which +they were held up for the general edification, and the great +elevation at which they were displayed; which one would think +rather calculated to diminish the comfort derivable from a full +conviction of their being genuine.</p> +<p>On the Thursday, we went to see the Pope convey the Sacrament +from the Sistine chapel, to deposit it in the Capella Paolina, +another chapel in the Vatican;—a ceremony emblematical of +the entombment of the Saviour before His Resurrection. We +waited in a great gallery with a great crowd of people +(three-fourths of them English) for an hour or so, while they +were chaunting the Miserere, in the Sistine chapel again. +Both chapels opened out of the gallery; and the general attention +was concentrated on the occasional opening and shutting of the +door of the one for which the Pope was ultimately bound. +None of these openings disclosed anything more tremendous than a +man on a ladder, lighting a great quantity of candles; but at +each and every opening, there was a terrific rush made at this +ladder and this man, something like (I should think) a charge of +the heavy British cavalry at Waterloo. The man was never +brought down, however, nor the ladder; for it performed the +strangest antics in the world among the crowd—where it was +carried by the man, when the candles were all lighted; and +finally it was stuck up against the gallery wall, in a very +disorderly manner, just before the opening of the other chapel, +and the commencement of a new chaunt, announced the approach of +his Holiness. At this crisis, the soldiers of the guard, +who had been poking the crowd into all sorts of shapes, formed +down the gallery: and the procession came up, between the two +lines they made.</p> +<p>There were a few choristers, and then a great many priests, +walking two and two, and carrying—the good-looking priests +at least—their lighted tapers, so as to throw the light +with a good effect upon their faces: for the room was +darkened. Those who were not handsome, or who had not long +beards, carried <i>their</i> tapers anyhow, and abandoned +themselves to spiritual contemplation. Meanwhile, the +chaunting was very monotonous and dreary. The procession +passed on, slowly, into the chapel, and the drone of voices went +on, and came on, with it, until the Pope himself appeared, +walking under a white satin canopy, and bearing the covered +Sacrament in both hands; cardinals and canons clustered round +him, making a brilliant show. The soldiers of the guard +knelt down as he passed; all the bystanders bowed; and so he +passed on into the chapel: the white satin canopy being removed +from over him at the door, and a white satin parasol hoisted over +his poor old head, in place of it. A few more couples +brought up the rear, and passed into the chapel also. Then, +the chapel door was shut; and it was all over; and everybody +hurried off headlong, as for life or death, to see something +else, and say it wasn’t worth the trouble.</p> +<p>I think the most popular and most crowded sight (excepting +those of Easter Sunday and Monday, which are open to all classes +of people) was the Pope washing the feet of Thirteen men, +representing the twelve apostles, and Judas Iscariot. The +place in which this pious office is performed, is one of the +chapels of St. Peter’s, which is gaily decorated for the +occasion; the thirteen sitting, ‘all of a row,’ on a +very high bench, and looking particularly uncomfortable, with the +eyes of Heaven knows how many English, French, Americans, Swiss, +Germans, Russians, Swedes, Norwegians, and other foreigners, +nailed to their faces all the time. They are robed in +white; and on their heads they wear a stiff white cap, like a +large English porter-pot, without a handle. Each carries in +his hand, a nosegay, of the size of a fine cauliflower; and two +of them, on this occasion, wore spectacles; which, remembering +the characters they sustained, I thought a droll appendage to the +costume. There was a great eye to character. St. John +was represented by a good-looking young man. St. Peter, by +a grave-looking old gentleman, with a flowing brown beard; and +Judas Iscariot by such an enormous hypocrite (I could not make +out, though, whether the expression of his face was real or +assumed) that if he had acted the part to the death and had gone +away and hanged himself, he would have left nothing to be +desired.</p> +<p>As the two large boxes, appropriated to ladies at this sight, +were full to the throat, and getting near was hopeless, we posted +off, along with a great crowd, to be in time at the Table, where +the Pope, in person, waits on these Thirteen; and after a +prodigious struggle at the Vatican staircase, and several +personal conflicts with the Swiss guard, the whole crowd swept +into the room. It was a long gallery hung with drapery of +white and red, with another great box for ladies (who are obliged +to dress in black at these ceremonies, and to wear black veils), +a royal box for the King of Naples and his party; and the table +itself, which, set out like a ball supper, and ornamented with +golden figures of the real apostles, was arranged on an elevated +platform on one side of the gallery. The counterfeit +apostles’ knives and forks were laid out on that side of +the table which was nearest to the wall, so that they might be +stared at again, without let or hindrance.</p> +<p>The body of the room was full of male strangers; the crowd +immense; the heat very great; and the pressure sometimes +frightful. It was at its height, when the stream came +pouring in, from the feet-washing; and then there were such +shrieks and outcries, that a party of Piedmontese dragoons went +to the rescue of the Swiss guard, and helped them to calm the +tumult.</p> +<p>The ladies were particularly ferocious, in their struggles for +places. One lady of my acquaintance was seized round the +waist, in the ladies’ box, by a strong matron, and hoisted +out of her place; and there was another lady (in a back row in +the same box) who improved her position by sticking a large pin +into the ladies before her.</p> +<p>The gentlemen about me were remarkably anxious to see what was +on the table; and one Englishman seemed to have embarked the +whole energy of his nature in the determination to discover +whether there was any mustard. ‘By Jupiter +there’s vinegar!’ I heard him say to his friend, +after he had stood on tiptoe an immense time, and had been +crushed and beaten on all sides. ‘And there’s +oil! I saw them distinctly, in cruets! Can any +gentleman, in front there, see mustard on the table? Sir, +will you oblige me! <i>Do</i> you see a +Mustard-Pot?’</p> +<p>The apostles and Judas appearing on the platform, after much +expectation, were marshalled, in line, in front of the table, +with Peter at the top; and a good long stare was taken at them by +the company, while twelve of them took a long smell at their +nosegays, and Judas—moving his lips very +obtrusively—engaged in inward prayer. Then, the Pope, +clad in a scarlet robe, and wearing on his head a skull-cap of +white satin, appeared in the midst of a crowd of Cardinals and +other dignitaries, and took in his hand a little golden ewer, +from which he poured a little water over one of Peter’s +hands, while one attendant held a golden basin; a second, a fine +cloth; a third, Peter’s nosegay, which was taken from him +during the operation. This his Holiness performed, with +considerable expedition, on every man in the line (Judas, I +observed, to be particularly overcome by his condescension); and +then the whole Thirteen sat down to dinner. Grace said by +the Pope. Peter in the chair.</p> +<p>There was white wine, and red wine: and the dinner looked very +good. The courses appeared in portions, one for each +apostle: and these being presented to the Pope, by Cardinals upon +their knees, were by him handed to the Thirteen. The manner +in which Judas grew more white-livered over his victuals, and +languished, with his head on one side, as if he had no appetite, +defies all description. Peter was a good, sound, old man, +and went in, as the saying is, ‘to win;’ eating +everything that was given him (he got the best: being first in +the row) and saying nothing to anybody. The dishes appeared +to be chiefly composed of fish and vegetables. The Pope +helped the Thirteen to wine also; and, during the whole dinner, +somebody read something aloud, out of a large book—the +Bible, I presume—which nobody could hear, and to which +nobody paid the least attention. The Cardinals, and other +attendants, smiled to each other, from time to time, as if the +thing were a great farce; and if they thought so, there is little +doubt they were perfectly right. His Holiness did what he +had to do, as a sensible man gets through a troublesome ceremony, +and seemed very glad when it was all over.</p> +<p>The Pilgrims’ Suppers: where lords and ladies waited on +the Pilgrims, in token of humility, and dried their feet when +they had been well washed by deputy: were very attractive. +But, of all the many spectacles of dangerous reliance on outward +observances, in themselves mere empty forms, none struck me half +so much as the Scala Santa, or Holy Staircase, which I saw +several times, but to the greatest advantage, or disadvantage, on +Good Friday.</p> +<p>This holy staircase is composed of eight-and-twenty steps, +said to have belonged to Pontius Pilate’s house and to be +the identical stair on which Our Saviour trod, in coming down +from the judgment-seat. Pilgrims ascend it, only on their +knees. It is steep; and, at the summit, is a chapel, +reported to be full of relics; into which they peep through some +iron bars, and then come down again, by one of two side +staircases, which are not sacred, and may be walked on.</p> +<p>On Good Friday, there were, on a moderate computation, a +hundred people, slowly shuffling up these stairs, on their knees, +at one time; while others, who were going up, or had come +down—and a few who had done both, and were going up again +for the second time—stood loitering in the porch below, +where an old gentleman in a sort of watch-box, rattled a tin +canister, with a slit in the top, incessantly, to remind them +that he took the money. The majority were country-people, +male and female. There were four or five Jesuit priests, +however, and some half-dozen well-dressed women. A whole +school of boys, twenty at least, were about half-way +up—evidently enjoying it very much. They were all +wedged together, pretty closely; but the rest of the company gave +the boys as wide a berth as possible, in consequence of their +betraying some recklessness in the management of their boots.</p> +<p>I never, in my life, saw anything at once so ridiculous, and +so unpleasant, as this sight—ridiculous in the absurd +incidents inseparable from it; and unpleasant in its senseless +and unmeaning degradation. There are two steps to begin +with, and then a rather broad landing. The more rigid +climbers went along this landing on their knees, as well as up +the stairs; and the figures they cut, in their shuffling progress +over the level surface, no description can paint. Then, to +see them watch their opportunity from the porch, and cut in where +there was a place next the wall! And to see one man with an +umbrella (brought on purpose, for it was a fine day) hoisting +himself, unlawfully, from stair to stair! And to observe a +demure lady of fifty-five or so, looking back, every now and +then, to assure herself that her legs were properly disposed!</p> +<p>There were such odd differences in the speed of different +people, too. Some got on as if they were doing a match +against time; others stopped to say a prayer on every step. +This man touched every stair with his forehead, and kissed it; +that man scratched his head all the way. The boys got on +brilliantly, and were up and down again before the old lady had +accomplished her half-dozen stairs. But most of the +penitents came down, very sprightly and fresh, as having done a +real good substantial deed which it would take a good deal of sin +to counterbalance; and the old gentleman in the watch-box was +down upon them with his canister while they were in this humour, +I promise you.</p> +<p>As if such a progress were not in its nature inevitably droll +enough, there lay, on the top of the stairs, a wooden figure on a +crucifix, resting on a sort of great iron saucer: so rickety and +unsteady, that whenever an enthusiastic person kissed the figure, +with more than usual devotion, or threw a coin into the saucer, +with more than common readiness (for it served in this respect as +a second or supplementary canister), it gave a great leap and +rattle, and nearly shook the attendant lamp out: horribly +frightening the people further down, and throwing the guilty +party into unspeakable embarrassment.</p> +<p>On Easter Sunday, as well as on the preceding Thursday, the +Pope bestows his benediction on the people, from the balcony in +front of St. Peter’s. This Easter Sunday was a day so +bright and blue: so cloudless, balmy, wonderfully bright: that +all the previous bad weather vanished from the recollection in a +moment. I had seen the Thursday’s Benediction +dropping damply on some hundreds of umbrellas, but there was not +a sparkle then, in all the hundred fountains of Rome—such +fountains as they are!—and on this Sunday morning they were +running diamonds. The miles of miserable streets through +which we drove (compelled to a certain course by the Pope’s +dragoons: the Roman police on such occasions) were so full of +colour, that nothing in them was capable of wearing a faded +aspect. The common people came out in their gayest dresses; +the richer people in their smartest vehicles; Cardinals rattled +to the church of the Poor Fishermen in their state carriages; +shabby magnificence flaunted its thread-bare liveries and +tarnished cocked hats, in the sun; and every coach in Rome was +put in requisition for the Great Piazza of St. Peter’s.</p> +<p>One hundred and fifty thousand people were there at +least! Yet there was ample room. How many carriages +were there, I don’t know; yet there was room for them too, +and to spare. The great steps of the church were densely +crowded. There were many of the Contadini, from Albano (who +delight in red), in that part of the square, and the mingling of +bright colours in the crowd was beautiful. Below the steps +the troops were ranged. In the magnificent proportions of +the place they looked like a bed of flowers. Sulky Romans, +lively peasants from the neighbouring country, groups of pilgrims +from distant parts of Italy, sight-seeing foreigners of all +nations, made a murmur in the clear air, like so many insects; +and high above them all, plashing and bubbling, and making +rainbow colours in the light, the two delicious fountains welled +and tumbled bountifully.</p> +<p>A kind of bright carpet was hung over the front of the +balcony; and the sides of the great window were bedecked with +crimson drapery. An awning was stretched, too, over the +top, to screen the old man from the hot rays of the sun. As +noon approached, all eyes were turned up to this window. In +due time, the chair was seen approaching to the front, with the +gigantic fans of peacock’s feathers, close behind. +The doll within it (for the balcony is very high) then rose up, +and stretched out its tiny arms, while all the male spectators in +the square uncovered, and some, but not by any means the greater +part, kneeled down. The guns upon the ramparts of the +Castle of St. Angelo proclaimed, next moment, that the +benediction was given; drums beat; trumpets sounded; arms +clashed; and the great mass below, suddenly breaking into smaller +heaps, and scattering here and there in rills, was stirred like +parti-coloured sand.</p> +<p>What a bright noon it was, as we rode away! The Tiber +was no longer yellow, but blue. There was a blush on the +old bridges, that made them fresh and hale again. The +Pantheon, with its majestic front, all seamed and furrowed like +an old face, had summer light upon its battered walls. +Every squalid and desolate hut in the Eternal City (bear witness +every grim old palace, to the filth and misery of the plebeian +neighbour that elbows it, as certain as Time has laid its grip on +its patrician head!) was fresh and new with some ray of the +sun. The very prison in the crowded street, a whirl of +carriages and people, had some stray sense of the day, dropping +through its chinks and crevices: and dismal prisoners who could +not wind their faces round the barricading of the blocked-up +windows, stretched out their hands, and clinging to the rusty +bars, turned <i>them</i> towards the overflowing street: as if it +were a cheerful fire, and could be shared in, that way.</p> +<p>But, when the night came on, without a cloud to dim the full +moon, what a sight it was to see the Great Square full once more, +and the whole church, from the cross to the ground, lighted with +innumerable lanterns, tracing out the architecture, and winking +and shining all round the colonnade of the piazza! And what +a sense of exultation, joy, delight, it was, when the great bell +struck half-past seven—on the instant—to behold one +bright red mass of fire, soar gallantly from the top of the +cupola to the extremest summit of the cross, and the moment it +leaped into its place, become the signal of a bursting out of +countless lights, as great, and red, and blazing as itself, from +every part of the gigantic church; so that every cornice, +capital, and smallest ornament of stone, expressed itself in +fire: and the black, solid groundwork of the enormous dome seemed +to grow transparent as an egg-shell!</p> +<p>A train of gunpowder, an electric chain—nothing could be +fired, more suddenly and swiftly, than this second illumination; +and when we had got away, and gone upon a distant height, and +looked towards it two hours afterwards, there it still stood, +shining and glittering in the calm night like a jewel! Not +a line of its proportions wanting; not an angle blunted; not an +atom of its radiance lost.</p> +<p>The next night—Easter Monday—there was a great +display of fireworks from the Castle of St. Angelo. We +hired a room in an opposite house, and made our way, to our +places, in good time, through a dense mob of people choking up +the square in front, and all the avenues leading to it; and so +loading the bridge by which the castle is approached, that it +seemed ready to sink into the rapid Tiber below. There are +statues on this bridge (execrable works), and, among them, great +vessels full of burning tow were placed: glaring strangely on the +faces of the crowd, and not less strangely on the stone +counterfeits above them.</p> +<p>The show began with a tremendous discharge of cannon; and +then, for twenty minutes or half an hour, the whole castle was +one incessant sheet of fire, and labyrinth of blazing wheels of +every colour, size, and speed: while rockets streamed into the +sky, not by ones or twos, or scores, but hundreds at a +time. The concluding burst—the Girandola—was +like the blowing up into the air of the whole massive castle, +without smoke or dust.</p> +<p>In half an hour afterwards, the immense concourse had +dispersed; the moon was looking calmly down upon her wrinkled +image in the river; and half-a-dozen men and boys, with bits of +lighted candle in their hands: moving here and there, in search +of anything worth having, that might have been dropped in the +press: had the whole scene to themselves.</p> +<p>By way of contrast we rode out into old ruined Rome, after all +this firing and booming, to take our leave of the Coliseum. +I had seen it by moonlight before (I could never get through a +day without going back to it), but its tremendous solitude that +night is past all telling. The ghostly pillars in the +Forum; the Triumphal Arches of Old Emperors; those enormous +masses of ruins which were once their palaces; the grass-grown +mounds that mark the graves of ruined temples; the stones of the +Via Sacra, smooth with the tread of feet in ancient Rome; even +these were dimmed, in their transcendent melancholy, by the dark +ghost of its bloody holidays, erect and grim; haunting the old +scene; despoiled by pillaging Popes and fighting Princes, but not +laid; wringing wild hands of weed, and grass, and bramble; and +lamenting to the night in every gap and broken arch—the +shadow of its awful self, immovable!</p> +<p>As we lay down on the grass of the Campagna, next day, on our +way to Florence, hearing the larks sing, we saw that a little +wooden cross had been erected on the spot where the poor Pilgrim +Countess was murdered. So, we piled some loose stones about +it, as the beginning of a mound to her memory, and wondered if we +should ever rest there again, and look back at Rome.</p> +<h2><a name="page345"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 345</span>A +RAPID DIORAMA</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">We</span> are bound for Naples! And +we cross the threshold of the Eternal City at yonder gate, the +Gate of San Giovanni Laterano, where the two last objects that +attract the notice of a departing visitor, and the two first +objects that attract the notice of an arriving one, are a proud +church and a decaying ruin—good emblems of Rome.</p> +<p>Our way lies over the Campagna, which looks more solemn on a +bright blue day like this, than beneath a darker sky; the great +extent of ruin being plainer to the eye: and the sunshine through +the arches of the broken aqueducts, showing other broken arches +shining through them in the melancholy distance. When we +have traversed it, and look back from Albano, its dark, +undulating surface lies below us like a stagnant lake, or like a +broad, dull Lethe flowing round the walls of Rome, and separating +it from all the world! How often have the Legions, in +triumphant march, gone glittering across that purple waste, so +silent and unpeopled now! How often has the train of +captives looked, with sinking hearts, upon the distant city, and +beheld its population pouring out, to hail the return of their +conqueror! What riot, sensuality and murder, have run mad +in the vast palaces now heaps of brick and shattered +marble! What glare of fires, and roar of popular tumult, +and wail of pestilence and famine, have come sweeping over the +wild plain where nothing is now heard but the wind, and where the +solitary lizards gambol unmolested in the sun!</p> +<p>The train of wine-carts going into Rome, each driven by a +shaggy peasant reclining beneath a little gipsy-fashioned canopy +of sheep-skin, is ended now, and we go toiling up into a higher +country where there are trees. The next day brings us on +the Pontine Marshes, wearily flat and lonesome, and overgrown +with brushwood, and swamped with water, but with a fine road made +across them, shaded by a long, long avenue. Here and there, +we pass a solitary guard-house; here and there a hovel, deserted, +and walled up. Some herdsmen loiter on the banks of the +stream beside the road, and sometimes a flat-bottomed boat, towed +by a man, comes rippling idly along it. A horseman passes +occasionally, carrying a long gun cross-wise on the saddle before +him, and attended by fierce dogs; but there is nothing else astir +save the wind and the shadows, until we come in sight of +Terracina.</p> +<p>How blue and bright the sea, rolling below the windows of the +inn so famous in robber stories! How picturesque the great +crags and points of rock overhanging to-morrow’s narrow +road, where galley-slaves are working in the quarries above, and +the sentinels who guard them lounge on the sea-shore! All +night there is the murmur of the sea beneath the stars; and, in +the morning, just at daybreak, the prospect suddenly becoming +expanded, as if by a miracle, reveals—in the far distance, +across the sea there!—Naples with its islands, and Vesuvius +spouting fire! Within a quarter of an hour, the whole is +gone as if it were a vision in the clouds, and there is nothing +but the sea and sky.</p> +<p>The Neapolitan frontier crossed, after two hours’ +travelling; and the hungriest of soldiers and custom-house +officers with difficulty appeased; we enter, by a gateless +portal, into the first Neapolitan town—Fondi. Take +note of Fondi, in the name of all that is wretched and +beggarly.</p> +<p>A filthy channel of mud and refuse meanders down the centre of +the miserable streets, fed by obscene rivulets that trickle from +the abject houses. There is not a door, a window, or a +shutter; not a roof, a wall, a post, or a pillar, in all Fondi, +but is decayed, and crazy, and rotting away. The wretched +history of the town, with all its sieges and pillages by +Barbarossa and the rest, might have been acted last year. +How the gaunt dogs that sneak about the miserable streets, come +to be alive, and undevoured by the people, is one of the enigmas +of the world.</p> +<p>A hollow-cheeked and scowling people they are! All +beggars; but that’s nothing. Look at them as they +gather round. Some, are too indolent to come down-stairs, +or are too wisely mistrustful of the stairs, perhaps, to venture: +so stretch out their lean hands from upper windows, and howl; +others, come flocking about us, fighting and jostling one +another, and demanding, incessantly, charity for the love of God, +charity for the love of the Blessed Virgin, charity for the love +of all the Saints. A group of miserable children, almost +naked, screaming forth the same petition, discover that they can +see themselves reflected in the varnish of the carriage, and +begin to dance and make grimaces, that they may have the pleasure +of seeing their antics repeated in this mirror. A crippled +idiot, in the act of striking one of them who drowns his +clamorous demand for charity, observes his angry counterpart in +the panel, stops short, and thrusting out his tongue, begins to +wag his head and chatter. The shrill cry raised at this, +awakens half-a-dozen wild creatures wrapped in frowsy brown +cloaks, who are lying on the church-steps with pots and pans for +sale. These, scrambling up, approach, and beg +defiantly. ‘I am hungry. Give me +something. Listen to me, Signor. I am +hungry!’ Then, a ghastly old woman, fearful of being +too late, comes hobbling down the street, stretching out one +hand, and scratching herself all the way with the other, and +screaming, long before she can be heard, ‘Charity, +charity! I’ll go and pray for you directly, beautiful +lady, if you’ll give me charity!’ Lastly, the +members of a brotherhood for burying the dead: hideously masked, +and attired in shabby black robes, white at the skirts, with the +splashes of many muddy winters: escorted by a dirty priest, and a +congenial cross-bearer: come hurrying past. Surrounded by +this motley concourse, we move out of Fondi: bad bright eyes +glaring at us, out of the darkness of every crazy tenement, like +glistening fragments of its filth and putrefaction.</p> +<p>A noble mountain-pass, with the ruins of a fort on a strong +eminence, traditionally called the Fort of Fra Diavolo; the old +town of Itrí, like a device in pastry, built up, almost +perpendicularly, on a hill, and approached by long steep flights +of steps; beautiful Mola di Gaëta, whose wines, like those +of Albano, have degenerated since the days of Horace, or his +taste for wine was bad: which is not likely of one who enjoyed it +so much, and extolled it so well; another night upon the road at +St. Agatha; a rest next day at Capua, which is picturesque, but +hardly so seductive to a traveller now, as the soldiers of +Prætorian Rome were wont to find the ancient city of that +name; a flat road among vines festooned and looped from tree to +tree; and Mount Vesuvius close at hand at last!—its cone +and summit whitened with snow; and its smoke hanging over it, in +the heavy atmosphere of the day, like a dense cloud. So we +go, rattling down hill, into Naples.</p> +<p>A funeral is coming up the street, towards us. The body, +on an open bier, borne on a kind of palanquin, covered with a gay +cloth of crimson and gold. The mourners, in white gowns and +masks. If there be death abroad, life is well represented +too, for all Naples would seem to be out of doors, and tearing to +and fro in carriages. Some of these, the common +Vetturíno vehicles, are drawn by three horses abreast, +decked with smart trappings and great abundance of brazen +ornament, and always going very fast. Not that their loads +are light; for the smallest of them has at least six people +inside, four in front, four or five more hanging on behind, and +two or three more, in a net or bag below the axle-tree, where +they lie half-suffocated with mud and dust. Exhibitors of +Punch, buffo singers with guitars, reciters of poetry, reciters +of stories, a row of cheap exhibitions with clowns and showmen, +drums, and trumpets, painted cloths representing the wonders +within, and admiring crowds assembled without, assist the whirl +and bustle. Ragged lazzaroni lie asleep in doorways, +archways, and kennels; the gentry, gaily dressed, are dashing up +and down in carriages on the Chiaji, or walking in the Public +Gardens; and quiet letter-writers, perched behind their little +desks and inkstands under the Portico of the Great Theatre of San +Carlo, in the public street, are waiting for clients.</p> +<p>Here is a galley-slave in chains, who wants a letter written +to a friend. He approaches a clerkly-looking man, sitting +under the corner arch, and makes his bargain. He has +obtained permission of the sentinel who guards him: who stands +near, leaning against the wall and cracking nuts. The +galley-slave dictates in the ear of the letter-writer, what he +desires to say; and as he can’t read writing, looks +intently in his face, to read there whether he sets down +faithfully what he is told. After a time, the galley-slave +becomes discursive—incoherent. The secretary pauses +and rubs his chin. The galley-slave is voluble and +energetic. The secretary, at length, catches the idea, and +with the air of a man who knows how to word it, sets it down; +stopping, now and then, to glance back at his text +admiringly. The galley-slave is silent. The soldier +stoically cracks his nuts. Is there anything more to say? +inquires the letter-writer. No more. Then listen, +friend of mine. He reads it through. The galley-slave +is quite enchanted. It is folded, and addressed, and given +to him, and he pays the fee. The secretary falls back +indolently in his chair, and takes a book. The galley-slave +gathers up an empty sack. The sentinel throws away a +handful of nut-shells, shoulders his musket, and away they go +together.</p> +<p>Why do the beggars rap their chins constantly, with their +right hands, when you look at them? Everything is done in +pantomime in Naples, and that is the conventional sign for +hunger. A man who is quarrelling with another, yonder, lays +the palm of his right hand on the back of his left, and shakes +the two thumbs—expressive of a donkey’s +ears—whereat his adversary is goaded to desperation. +Two people bargaining for fish, the buyer empties an imaginary +waistcoat pocket when he is told the price, and walks away +without a word: having thoroughly conveyed to the seller that he +considers it too dear. Two people in carriages, meeting, +one touches his lips, twice or thrice, holding up the five +fingers of his right hand, and gives a horizontal cut in the air +with the palm. The other nods briskly, and goes his +way. He has been invited to a friendly dinner at half-past +five o’clock, and will certainly come.</p> +<p>All over Italy, a peculiar shake of the right hand from the +wrist, with the forefinger stretched out, expresses a +negative—the only negative beggars will ever +understand. But, in Naples, those five fingers are a +copious language.</p> +<p>All this, and every other kind of out-door life and stir, and +macaroni-eating at sunset, and flower-selling all day long, and +begging and stealing everywhere and at all hours, you see upon +the bright sea-shore, where the waves of the bay sparkle +merrily. But, lovers and hunters of the picturesque, let us +not keep too studiously out of view the miserable depravity, +degradation, and wretchedness, with which this gay Neapolitan +life is inseparably associated! It is not well to find +Saint Giles’s so repulsive, and the Porta Capuana so +attractive. A pair of naked legs and a ragged red scarf, do +not make <i>all</i> the difference between what is interesting +and what is coarse and odious? Painting and poetising for +ever, if you will, the beauties of this most beautiful and lovely +spot of earth, let us, as our duty, try to associate a new +picturesque with some faint recognition of man’s destiny +and capabilities; more hopeful, I believe, among the ice and snow +of the North Pole, than in the sun and bloom of Naples.</p> +<p>Capri—once made odious by the deified beast +Tiberius—Ischia, Procida, and the thousand distant beauties +of the Bay, lie in the blue sea yonder, changing in the mist and +sunshine twenty times a-day: now close at hand, now far off, now +unseen. The fairest country in the world, is spread about +us. Whether we turn towards the Miseno shore of the +splendid watery amphitheatre, and go by the Grotto of Posilipo to +the Grotto del Cane and away to Baiæ: or take the other +way, towards Vesuvius and Sorrento, it is one succession of +delights. In the last-named direction, where, over doors +and archways, there are countless little images of San Gennaro, +with his Canute’s hand stretched out, to check the fury of +the Burning Mountain, we are carried pleasantly, by a railroad on +the beautiful Sea Beach, past the town of Torre del Greco, built +upon the ashes of the former town destroyed by an eruption of +Vesuvius, within a hundred years; and past the flat-roofed +houses, granaries, and macaroni manufactories; to Castel-a-Mare, +with its ruined castle, now inhabited by fishermen, standing in +the sea upon a heap of rocks. Here, the railroad +terminates; but, hence we may ride on, by an unbroken succession +of enchanting bays, and beautiful scenery, sloping from the +highest summit of Saint Angelo, the highest neighbouring +mountain, down to the water’s edge—among vineyards, +olive-trees, gardens of oranges and lemons, orchards, heaped-up +rocks, green gorges in the hills—and by the bases of +snow-covered heights, and through small towns with handsome, +dark-haired women at the doors—and pass delicious summer +villas—to Sorrento, where the Poet Tasso drew his +inspiration from the beauty surrounding him. Returning, we +may climb the heights above Castel-a-Mare, and looking down among +the boughs and leaves, see the crisp water glistening in the sun; +and clusters of white houses in distant Naples, dwindling, in the +great extent of prospect, down to dice. The coming back to +the city, by the beach again, at sunset: with the glowing sea on +one side, and the darkening mountain, with its smoke and flame, +upon the other: is a sublime conclusion to the glory of the +day.</p> +<p>That church by the Porta Capuana—near the old +fisher-market in the dirtiest quarter of dirty Naples, where the +revolt of Masaniello began—is memorable for having been the +scene of one of his earliest proclamations to the people, and is +particularly remarkable for nothing else, unless it be its waxen +and bejewelled Saint in a glass case, with two odd hands; or the +enormous number of beggars who are constantly rapping their chins +there, like a battery of castanets. The cathedral with the +beautiful door, and the columns of African and Egyptian granite +that once ornamented the temple of Apollo, contains the famous +sacred blood of San Gennaro or Januarius: which is preserved in +two phials in a silver tabernacle, and miraculously liquefies +three times a-year, to the great admiration of the people. +At the same moment, the stone (distant some miles) where the +Saint suffered martyrdom, becomes faintly red. It is said +that the officiating priests turn faintly red also, sometimes, +when these miracles occur.</p> +<p>The old, old men who live in hovels at the entrance of these +ancient catacombs, and who, in their age and infirmity, seem +waiting here, to be buried themselves, are members of a curious +body, called the Royal Hospital, who are the official attendants +at funerals. Two of these old spectres totter away, with +lighted tapers, to show the caverns of death—as unconcerned +as if they were immortal. They were used as burying-places +for three hundred years; and, in one part, is a large pit full of +skulls and bones, said to be the sad remains of a great mortality +occasioned by a plague. In the rest there is nothing but +dust. They consist, chiefly, of great wide corridors and +labyrinths, hewn out of the rock. At the end of some of +these long passages, are unexpected glimpses of the daylight, +shining down from above. It looks as ghastly and as +strange; among the torches, and the dust, and the dark vaults: as +if it, too, were dead and buried.</p> +<p>The present burial-place lies out yonder, on a hill between +the city and Vesuvius. The old Campo Santo with its three +hundred and sixty-five pits, is only used for those who die in +hospitals, and prisons, and are unclaimed by their friends. +The graceful new cemetery, at no great distance from it, though +yet unfinished, has already many graves among its shrubs and +flowers, and airy colonnades. It might be reasonably +objected elsewhere, that some of the tombs are meretricious and +too fanciful; but the general brightness seems to justify it +here; and Mount Vesuvius, separated from them by a lovely slope +of ground, exalts and saddens the scene.</p> +<p>If it be solemn to behold from this new City of the Dead, with +its dark smoke hanging in the clear sky, how much more awful and +impressive is it, viewed from the ghostly ruins of Herculaneum +and Pompeii!</p> +<p>Stand at the bottom of the great market-place of Pompeii, and +look up the silent streets, through the ruined temples of Jupiter +and Isis, over the broken houses with their inmost sanctuaries +open to the day, away to Mount Vesuvius, bright and snowy in the +peaceful distance; and lose all count of time, and heed of other +things, in the strange and melancholy sensation of seeing the +Destroyed and the Destroyer making this quiet picture in the +sun. Then, ramble on, and see, at every turn, the little +familiar tokens of human habitation and every-day pursuits; the +chafing of the bucket-rope in the stone rim of the exhausted +well; the track of carriage-wheels in the pavement of the street; +the marks of drinking-vessels on the stone counter of the +wine-shop; the amphoræ in private cellars, stored away so +many hundred years ago, and undisturbed to this hour—all +rendering the solitude and deadly lonesomeness of the place, ten +thousand times more solemn, than if the volcano, in its fury, had +swept the city from the earth, and sunk it in the bottom of the +sea.</p> +<p>After it was shaken by the earthquake which preceded the +eruption, workmen were employed in shaping out, in stone, new +ornaments for temples and other buildings that had +suffered. Here lies their work, outside the city gate, as +if they would return to-morrow.</p> +<p>In the cellar of Diomede’s house, where certain +skeletons were found huddled together, close to the door, the +impression of their bodies on the ashes, hardened with the ashes, +and became stamped and fixed there, after they had shrunk, +inside, to scanty bones. So, in the theatre of Herculaneum, +a comic mask, floating on the stream when it was hot and liquid, +stamped its mimic features in it as it hardened into stone; and +now, it turns upon the stranger the fantastic look it turned upon +the audiences in that same theatre two thousand years ago.</p> +<p>Next to the wonder of going up and down the streets, and in +and out of the houses, and traversing the secret chambers of the +temples of a religion that has vanished from the earth, and +finding so many fresh traces of remote antiquity: as if the +course of Time had been stopped after this desolation, and there +had been no nights and days, months, years, and centuries, since: +nothing is more impressive and terrible than the many evidences +of the searching nature of the ashes, as bespeaking their +irresistible power, and the impossibility of escaping them. +In the wine-cellars, they forced their way into the earthen +vessels: displacing the wine and choking them, to the brim, with +dust. In the tombs, they forced the ashes of the dead from +the funeral urns, and rained new ruin even into them. The +mouths, and eyes, and skulls of all the skeletons, were stuffed +with this terrible hail. In Herculaneum, where the flood +was of a different and a heavier kind, it rolled in, like a +sea. Imagine a deluge of water turned to marble, at its +height—and that is what is called ‘the lava’ +here.</p> +<p>Some workmen were digging the gloomy well on the brink of +which we now stand, looking down, when they came on some of the +stone benches of the theatre—those steps (for such they +seem) at the bottom of the excavation—and found the buried +city of Herculaneum. Presently going down, with lighted +torches, we are perplexed by great walls of monstrous thickness, +rising up between the benches, shutting out the stage, obtruding +their shapeless forms in absurd places, confusing the whole plan, +and making it a disordered dream. We cannot, at first, +believe, or picture to ourselves, that <span +class="smcap">This</span> came rolling in, and drowned the city; +and that all that is not here, has been cut away, by the axe, +like solid stone. But this perceived and understood, the +horror and oppression of its presence are indescribable.</p> +<p>Many of the paintings on the walls in the roofless chambers of +both cities, or carefully removed to the museum at Naples, are as +fresh and plain, as if they had been executed yesterday. +Here are subjects of still life, as provisions, dead game, +bottles, glasses, and the like; familiar classical stories, or +mythological fables, always forcibly and plainly told; conceits +of cupids, quarrelling, sporting, working at trades; theatrical +rehearsals; poets reading their productions to their friends; +inscriptions chalked upon the walls; political squibs, +advertisements, rough drawings by schoolboys; everything to +people and restore the ancient cities, in the fancy of their +wondering visitor. Furniture, too, you see, of every +kind—lamps, tables, couches; vessels for eating, drinking, +and cooking; workmen’s tools, surgical instruments, tickets +for the theatre, pieces of money, personal ornaments, bunches of +keys found clenched in the grasp of skeletons, helmets of guards +and warriors; little household bells, yet musical with their old +domestic tones.</p> +<p>The least among these objects, lends its aid to swell the +interest of Vesuvius, and invest it with a perfect +fascination. The looking, from either ruined city, into the +neighbouring grounds overgrown with beautiful vines and luxuriant +trees; and remembering that house upon house, temple on temple, +building after building, and street after street, are still lying +underneath the roots of all the quiet cultivation, waiting to be +turned up to the light of day; is something so wonderful, so full +of mystery, so captivating to the imagination, that one would +think it would be paramount, and yield to nothing else. To +nothing but Vesuvius; but the mountain is the genius of the +scene. From every indication of the ruin it has worked, we +look, again, with an absorbing interest to where its smoke is +rising up into the sky. It is beyond us, as we thread the +ruined streets: above us, as we stand upon the ruined walls, we +follow it through every vista of broken columns, as we wander +through the empty court-yards of the houses; and through the +garlandings and interlacings of every wanton vine. Turning +away to Pæstum yonder, to see the awful structures built, +the least aged of them, hundreds of years before the birth of +Christ, and standing yet, erect in lonely majesty, upon the wild, +malaria-blighted plain—we watch Vesuvius as it disappears +from the prospect, and watch for it again, on our return, with +the same thrill of interest: as the doom and destiny of all this +beautiful country, biding its terrible time.</p> +<p>It is very warm in the sun, on this early spring-day, when we +return from Pæstum, but very cold in the shade: insomuch, +that although we may lunch, pleasantly, at noon, in the open air, +by the gate of Pompeii, the neighbouring rivulet supplies thick +ice for our wine. But, the sun is shining brightly; there +is not a cloud or speck of vapour in the whole blue sky, looking +down upon the bay of Naples; and the moon will be at the full +to-night. No matter that the snow and ice lie thick upon +the summit of Vesuvius, or that we have been on foot all day at +Pompeii, or that croakers maintain that strangers should not be +on the mountain by night, in such an unusual season. Let us +take advantage of the fine weather; make the best of our way to +Resina, the little village at the foot of the mountain; prepare +ourselves, as well as we can, on so short a notice, at the +guide’s house; ascend at once, and have sunset half-way up, +moonlight at the top, and midnight to come down in!</p> +<p>At four o’clock in the afternoon, there is a terrible +uproar in the little stable-yard of Signior Salvatore, the +recognised head-guide, with the gold band round his cap; and +thirty under-guides who are all scuffling and screaming at once, +are preparing half-a-dozen saddled ponies, three litters, and +some stout staves, for the journey. Every one of the +thirty, quarrels with the other twenty-nine, and frightens the +six ponies; and as much of the village as can possibly squeeze +itself into the little stable-yard, participates in the tumult, +and gets trodden on by the cattle.</p> +<p>After much violent skirmishing, and more noise than would +suffice for the storming of Naples, the procession starts. +The head-guide, who is liberally paid for all the attendants, +rides a little in advance of the party; the other thirty guides +proceed on foot. Eight go forward with the litters that are +to be used by-and-by; and the remaining two-and-twenty beg.</p> +<p>We ascend, gradually, by stony lanes like rough broad flights +of stairs, for some time. At length, we leave these, and +the vineyards on either side of them, and emerge upon a bleak +bare region where the lava lies confusedly, in enormous rusty +masses; as if the earth had been ploughed up by burning +thunderbolts. And now, we halt to see the sun set. +The change that falls upon the dreary region, and on the whole +mountain, as its red light fades, and the night comes +on—and the unutterable solemnity and dreariness that reign +around, who that has witnessed it, can ever forget!</p> +<p>It is dark, when after winding, for some time, over the broken +ground, we arrive at the foot of the cone: which is extremely +steep, and seems to rise, almost perpendicularly, from the spot +where we dismount. The only light is reflected from the +snow, deep, hard, and white, with which the cone is +covered. It is now intensely cold, and the air is +piercing. The thirty-one have brought no torches, knowing +that the moon will rise before we reach the top. Two of the +litters are devoted to the two ladies; the third, to a rather +heavy gentleman from Naples, whose hospitality and good-nature +have attached him to the expedition, and determined him to assist +in doing the honours of the mountain. The rather heavy +gentleman is carried by fifteen men; each of the ladies by +half-a-dozen. We who walk, make the best use of our staves; +and so the whole party begin to labour upward over the +snow,—as if they were toiling to the summit of an +antediluvian Twelfth-cake.</p> +<p>We are a long time toiling up; and the head-guide looks oddly +about him when one of the company—not an Italian, though an +habitué of the mountain for many years: whom we will call, +for our present purpose, Mr. Pickle of Portici—suggests +that, as it is freezing hard, and the usual footing of ashes is +covered by the snow and ice, it will surely be difficult to +descend. But the sight of the litters above, tilting up and +down, and jerking from this side to that, as the bearers +continually slip and tumble, diverts our attention; more +especially as the whole length of the rather heavy gentleman is, +at that moment, presented to us alarmingly foreshortened, with +his head downwards.</p> +<p>The rising of the moon soon afterwards, revives the flagging +spirits of the bearers. Stimulating each other with their +usual watchword, ‘Courage, friend! It is to eat +macaroni!’ they press on, gallantly, for the summit.</p> +<p>From tingeing the top of the snow above us, with a band of +light, and pouring it in a stream through the valley below, while +we have been ascending in the dark, the moon soon lights the +whole white mountain-side, and the broad sea down below, and tiny +Naples in the distance, and every village in the country +round. The whole prospect is in this lovely state, when we +come upon the platform on the mountain-top—the region of +Fire—an exhausted crater formed of great masses of gigantic +cinders, like blocks of stone from some tremendous waterfall, +burnt up; from every chink and crevice of which, hot, sulphurous +smoke is pouring out: while, from another conical-shaped hill, +the present crater, rising abruptly from this platform at the +end, great sheets of fire are streaming forth: reddening the +night with flame, blackening it with smoke, and spotting it with +red-hot stones and cinders, that fly up into the air like +feathers, and fall down like lead. What words can paint the +gloom and grandeur of this scene!</p> +<p>The broken ground; the smoke; the sense of suffocation from +the sulphur: the fear of falling down through the crevices in the +yawning ground; the stopping, every now and then, for somebody +who is missing in the dark (for the dense smoke now obscures the +moon); the intolerable noise of the thirty; and the hoarse +roaring of the mountain; make it a scene of such confusion, at +the same time, that we reel again. But, dragging the ladies +through it, and across another exhausted crater to the foot of +the present Volcano, we approach close to it on the windy side, +and then sit down among the hot ashes at its foot, and look up in +silence; faintly estimating the action that is going on within, +from its being full a hundred feet higher, at this minute, than +it was six weeks ago.</p> +<p>There is something in the fire and roar, that generates an +irresistible desire to get nearer to it. We cannot rest +long, without starting off, two of us, on our hands and knees, +accompanied by the head-guide, to climb to the brim of the +flaming crater, and try to look in. Meanwhile, the thirty +yell, as with one voice, that it is a dangerous proceeding, and +call to us to come back; frightening the rest of the party out of +their wits.</p> +<p>What with their noise, and what with the trembling of the thin +crust of ground, that seems about to open underneath our feet and +plunge us in the burning gulf below (which is the real danger, if +there be any); and what with the flashing of the fire in our +faces, and the shower of red-hot ashes that is raining down, and +the choking smoke and sulphur; we may well feel giddy and +irrational, like drunken men. But, we contrive to climb up +to the brim, and look down, for a moment, into the Hell of +boiling fire below. Then, we all three come rolling down; +blackened, and singed, and scorched, and hot, and giddy: and each +with his dress alight in half-a-dozen places.</p> +<p>You have read, a thousand times, that the usual way of +descending, is, by sliding down the ashes: which, forming a +gradually-increasing ledge below the feet, prevent too rapid a +descent. But, when we have crossed the two exhausted +craters on our way back and are come to this precipitous place, +there is (as Mr. Pickle has foretold) no vestige of ashes to be +seen; the whole being a smooth sheet of ice.</p> +<p>In this dilemma, ten or a dozen of the guides cautiously join +hands, and make a chain of men; of whom the foremost beat, as +well as they can, a rough track with their sticks, down which we +prepare to follow. The way being fearfully steep, and none +of the party: even of the thirty: being able to keep their feet +for six paces together, the ladies are taken out of their +litters, and placed, each between two careful persons; while +others of the thirty hold by their skirts, to prevent their +falling forward—a necessary precaution, tending to the +immediate and hopeless dilapidation of their apparel. The +rather heavy gentleman is abjured to leave his litter too, and be +escorted in a similar manner; but he resolves to be brought down +as he was brought up, on the principle that his fifteen bearers +are not likely to tumble all at once, and that he is safer so, +than trusting to his own legs.</p> +<p>In this order, we begin the descent: sometimes on foot, +sometimes shuffling on the ice: always proceeding much more +quietly and slowly, than on our upward way: and constantly +alarmed by the falling among us of somebody from behind, who +endangers the footing of the whole party, and clings +pertinaciously to anybody’s ankles. It is impossible +for the litter to be in advance, too, as the track has to be +made; and its appearance behind us, overhead—with some one +or other of the bearers always down, and the rather heavy +gentleman with his legs always in the air—is very +threatening and frightful. We have gone on thus, a very +little way, painfully and anxiously, but quite merrily, and +regarding it as a great success—and have all fallen several +times, and have all been stopped, somehow or other, as we were +sliding away—when Mr. Pickle of Portici, in the act of +remarking on these uncommon circumstances as quite beyond his +experience, stumbles, falls, disengages himself, with quick +presence of mind, from those about him, plunges away head +foremost, and rolls, over and over, down the whole surface of the +cone!</p> +<p>Sickening as it is to look, and be so powerless to help him, I +see him there, in the moonlight—I have had such a dream +often—skimming over the white ice, like a +cannon-ball. Almost at the same moment, there is a cry from +behind; and a man who has carried a light basket of spare cloaks +on his head, comes rolling past, at the same frightful speed, +closely followed by a boy. At this climax of the chapter of +accidents, the remaining eight-and-twenty vociferate to that +degree, that a pack of wolves would be music to them!</p> +<p>Giddy, and bloody, and a mere bundle of rags, is Pickle of +Portici when we reach the place where we dismounted, and where +the horses are waiting; but, thank God, sound in limb! And +never are we likely to be more glad to see a man alive and on his +feet, than to see him now—making light of it too, though +sorely bruised and in great pain. The boy is brought into +the Hermitage on the Mountain, while we are at supper, with his +head tied up; and the man is heard of, some hours +afterwards. He too is bruised and stunned, but has broken +no bones; the snow having, fortunately, covered all the larger +blocks of rock and stone, and rendered them harmless.</p> +<p>After a cheerful meal, and a good rest before a blazing fire, +we again take horse, and continue our descent to +Salvatore’s house—very slowly, by reason of our +bruised friend being hardly able to keep the saddle, or endure +the pain of motion. Though it is so late at night, or early +in the morning, all the people of the village are waiting about +the little stable-yard when we arrive, and looking up the road by +which we are expected. Our appearance is hailed with a +great clamour of tongues, and a general sensation for which in +our modesty we are somewhat at a loss to account, until, turning +into the yard, we find that one of a party of French gentlemen +who were on the mountain at the same time is lying on some straw +in the stable, with a broken limb: looking like Death, and +suffering great torture; and that we were confidently supposed to +have encountered some worse accident.</p> +<p>So ‘well returned, and Heaven be praised!’ as the +cheerful Vetturíno, who has borne us company all the way +from Pisa, says, with all his heart! And away with his +ready horses, into sleeping Naples!</p> +<p>It wakes again to Policinelli and pickpockets, buffo singers +and beggars, rags, puppets, flowers, brightness, dirt, and +universal degradation; airing its Harlequin suit in the sunshine, +next day and every day; singing, starving, dancing, gaming, on +the sea-shore; and leaving all labour to the burning mountain, +which is ever at its work.</p> +<p>Our English dilettanti would be very pathetic on the subject +of the national taste, if they could hear an Italian opera half +as badly sung in England as we may hear the Foscari performed, +to-night, in the splendid theatre of San Carlo. But, for +astonishing truth and spirit in seizing and embodying the real +life about it, the shabby little San Carlino Theatre—the +rickety house one story high, with a staring picture outside: +down among the drums and trumpets, and the tumblers, and the lady +conjurer—is without a rival anywhere.</p> +<p>There is one extraordinary feature in the real life of Naples, +at which we may take a glance before we go—the +Lotteries.</p> +<p>They prevail in most parts of Italy, but are particularly +obvious, in their effects and influences, here. They are +drawn every Saturday. They bring an immense revenue to the +Government; and diffuse a taste for gambling among the poorest of +the poor, which is very comfortable to the coffers of the State, +and very ruinous to themselves. The lowest stake is one +grain; less than a farthing. One hundred numbers—from +one to a hundred, inclusive—are put into a box. Five +are drawn. Those are the prizes. I buy three +numbers. If one of them come up, I win a small prize. +If two, some hundreds of times my stake. If three, three +thousand five hundred times my stake. I stake (or play as +they call it) what I can upon my numbers, and buy what numbers I +please. The amount I play, I pay at the lottery office, +where I purchase the ticket; and it is stated on the ticket +itself.</p> +<p>Every lottery office keeps a printed book, an Universal +Lottery Diviner, where every possible accident and circumstance +is provided for, and has a number against it. For instance, +let us take two carlini—about sevenpence. On our way +to the lottery office, we run against a black man. When we +get there, we say gravely, ‘The Diviner.’ It is +handed over the counter, as a serious matter of business. +We look at black man. Such a number. ‘Give us +that.’ We look at running against a person in the +street. ‘Give us that.’ We look at the +name of the street itself. ‘Give us +that.’ Now, we have our three numbers.</p> +<p>If the roof of the theatre of San Carlo were to fall in, so +many people would play upon the numbers attached to such an +accident in the Diviner, that the Government would soon close +those numbers, and decline to run the risk of losing any more +upon them. This often happens. Not long ago, when +there was a fire in the King’s Palace, there was such a +desperate run on fire, and king, and palace, that further stakes +on the numbers attached to those words in the Golden Book were +forbidden. Every accident or event, is supposed, by the +ignorant populace, to be a revelation to the beholder, or party +concerned, in connection with the lottery. Certain people +who have a talent for dreaming fortunately, are much sought +after; and there are some priests who are constantly favoured +with visions of the lucky numbers.</p> +<p>I heard of a horse running away with a man, and dashing him +down, dead, at the corner of a street. Pursuing the horse +with incredible speed, was another man, who ran so fast, that he +came up, immediately after the accident. He threw himself +upon his knees beside the unfortunate rider, and clasped his hand +with an expression of the wildest grief. ‘If you have +life,’ he said, ‘speak one word to me! If you +have one gasp of breath left, mention your age for Heaven’s +sake, that I may play that number in the lottery.’</p> +<p>It is four o’clock in the afternoon, and we may go to +see our lottery drawn. The ceremony takes place every +Saturday, in the Tribunale, or Court of Justice—this +singular, earthy-smelling room, or gallery, as mouldy as an old +cellar, and as damp as a dungeon. At the upper end is a +platform, with a large horse-shoe table upon it; and a President +and Council sitting round—all judges of the Law. The +man on the little stool behind the President, is the Capo +Lazzarone, a kind of tribune of the people, appointed on their +behalf to see that all is fairly conducted: attended by a few +personal friends. A ragged, swarthy fellow he is: with long +matted hair hanging down all over his face: and covered, from +head to foot, with most unquestionably genuine dirt. All +the body of the room is filled with the commonest of the +Neapolitan people: and between them and the platform, guarding +the steps leading to the latter, is a small body of soldiers.</p> +<p>There is some delay in the arrival of the necessary number of +judges; during which, the box, in which the numbers are being +placed, is a source of the deepest interest. When the box +is full, the boy who is to draw the numbers out of it becomes the +prominent feature of the proceedings. He is already dressed +for his part, in a tight brown Holland coat, with only one (the +left) sleeve to it, which leaves his right arm bared to the +shoulder, ready for plunging down into the mysterious chest.</p> +<p>During the hush and whisper that pervade the room, all eyes +are turned on this young minister of fortune. People begin +to inquire his age, with a view to the next lottery; and the +number of his brothers and sisters; and the age of his father and +mother; and whether he has any moles or pimples upon him; and +where, and how many; when the arrival of the last judge but one +(a little old man, universally dreaded as possessing the Evil +Eye) makes a slight diversion, and would occasion a greater one, +but that he is immediately deposed, as a source of interest, by +the officiating priest, who advances gravely to his place, +followed by a very dirty little boy, carrying his sacred +vestments, and a pot of Holy Water.</p> +<p>Here is the last judge come at last, and now he takes his +place at the horse-shoe table.</p> +<p>There is a murmur of irrepressible agitation. In the +midst of it, the priest puts his head into the sacred vestments, +and pulls the same over his shoulders. Then he says a +silent prayer; and dipping a brush into the pot of Holy Water, +sprinkles it over the box—and over the boy, and gives them +a double-barrelled blessing, which the box and the boy are both +hoisted on the table to receive. The boy remaining on the +table, the box is now carried round the front of the platform, by +an attendant, who holds it up and shakes it lustily all the time; +seeming to say, like the conjurer, ‘There is no deception, +ladies and gentlemen; keep your eyes upon me, if you +please!’</p> +<p>At last, the box is set before the boy; and the boy, first +holding up his naked arm and open hand, dives down into the hole +(it is made like a ballot-box) and pulls out a number, which is +rolled up, round something hard, like a bonbon. This he +hands to the judge next him, who unrolls a little bit, and hands +it to the President, next to whom he sits. The President +unrolls it, very slowly. The Capo Lazzarone leans over his +shoulder. The President holds it up, unrolled, to the Capo +Lazzarone. The Capo Lazzarone, looking at it eagerly, cries +out, in a shrill, loud voice, ‘Sessantadue!’ +(sixty-two), expressing the two upon his fingers, as he calls it +out. Alas! the Capo Lazzarone himself has not staked on +sixty-two. His face is very long, and his eyes roll +wildly.</p> +<p>As it happens to be a favourite number, however, it is pretty +well received, which is not always the case. They are all +drawn with the same ceremony, omitting the blessing. One +blessing is enough for the whole multiplication-table. The +only new incident in the proceedings, is the gradually deepening +intensity of the change in the Cape Lazzarone, who has, +evidently, speculated to the very utmost extent of his means; and +who, when he sees the last number, and finds that it is not one +of his, clasps his hands, and raises his eyes to the ceiling +before proclaiming it, as though remonstrating, in a secret +agony, with his patron saint, for having committed so gross a +breach of confidence. I hope the Capo Lazzarone may not +desert him for some other member of the Calendar, but he seems to +threaten it.</p> +<p>Where the winners may be, nobody knows. They certainly +are not present; the general disappointment filling one with pity +for the poor people. They look: when we stand aside, +observing them, in their passage through the court-yard down +below: as miserable as the prisoners in the gaol (it forms a part +of the building), who are peeping down upon them, from between +their bars; or, as the fragments of human heads which are still +dangling in chains outside, in memory of the good old times, when +their owners were strung up there, for the popular +edification.</p> +<p>Away from Naples in a glorious sunrise, by the road to Capua, +and then on a three days’ journey along by-roads, that we +may see, on the way, the monastery of Monte Cassino, which is +perched on the steep and lofty hill above the little town of San +Germano, and is lost on a misty morning in the clouds.</p> +<p>So much the better, for the deep sounding of its bell, which, +as we go winding up, on mules, towards the convent, is heard +mysteriously in the still air, while nothing is seen but the grey +mist, moving solemnly and slowly, like a funeral +procession. Behold, at length the shadowy pile of building +close before us: its grey walls and towers dimly seen, though so +near and so vast: and the raw vapour rolling through its +cloisters heavily.</p> +<p>There are two black shadows walking to and fro in the +quadrangle, near the statues of the Patron Saint and his sister; +and hopping on behind them, in and out of the old arches, is a +raven, croaking in answer to the bell, and uttering, at +intervals, the purest Tuscan. How like a Jesuit he +looks! There never was a sly and stealthy fellow so at home +as is this raven, standing now at the refectory door, with his +head on one side, and pretending to glance another way, while he +is scrutinizing the visitors keenly, and listening with fixed +attention. What a dull-headed monk the porter becomes in +comparison!</p> +<p>‘He speaks like us!’ says the porter: ‘quite +as plainly.’ Quite as plainly, Porter. Nothing +could be more expressive than his reception of the peasants who +are entering the gate with baskets and burdens. There is a +roll in his eye, and a chuckle in his throat, which should +qualify him to be chosen Superior of an Order of Ravens. He +knows all about it. ‘It’s all right,’ he +says. ‘We know what we know. Come along, good +people. Glad to see you!’ How was this +extraordinary structure ever built in such a situation, where the +labour of conveying the stone, and iron, and marble, so great a +height, must have been prodigious? ‘Caw!’ says +the raven, welcoming the peasants. How, being despoiled by +plunder, fire and earthquake, has it risen from its ruins, and +been again made what we now see it, with its church so sumptuous +and magnificent? ‘Caw!’ says the raven, +welcoming the peasants. These people have a miserable +appearance, and (as usual) are densely ignorant, and all beg, +while the monks are chaunting in the chapel. +‘Caw!’ says the raven, ‘Cuckoo!’</p> +<p>So we leave him, chuckling and rolling his eye at the convent +gate, and wind slowly down again through the cloud. At last +emerging from it, we come in sight of the village far below, and +the flat green country intersected by rivulets; which is pleasant +and fresh to see after the obscurity and haze of the +convent—no disrespect to the raven, or the holy friars.</p> +<p>Away we go again, by muddy roads, and through the most +shattered and tattered of villages, where there is not a whole +window among all the houses, or a whole garment among all the +peasants, or the least appearance of anything to eat, in any of +the wretched hucksters’ shops. The women wear a +bright red bodice laced before and behind, a white skirt, and the +Neapolitan head-dress of square folds of linen, primitively meant +to carry loads on. The men and children wear anything they +can get. The soldiers are as dirty and rapacious as the +dogs. The inns are such hobgoblin places, that they are +infinitely more attractive and amusing than the best hotels in +Paris. Here is one near Valmontone (that is Valmontone the +round, walled town on the mount opposite), which is approached by +a quagmire almost knee-deep. There is a wild colonnade +below, and a dark yard full of empty stables and lofts, and a +great long kitchen with a great long bench and a great long form, +where a party of travellers, with two priests among them, are +crowding round the fire while their supper is cooking. +Above stairs, is a rough brick gallery to sit in, with very +little windows with very small patches of knotty glass in them, +and all the doors that open from it (a dozen or two) off their +hinges, and a bare board on tressels for a table, at which thirty +people might dine easily, and a fireplace large enough in itself +for a breakfast-parlour, where, as the faggots blaze and crackle, +they illuminate the ugliest and grimmest of faces, drawn in +charcoal on the whitewashed chimney-sides by previous +travellers. There is a flaring country lamp on the table; +and, hovering about it, scratching her thick black hair +continually, a yellow dwarf of a woman, who stands on tiptoe to +arrange the hatchet knives, and takes a flying leap to look into +the water-jug. The beds in the adjoining rooms are of the +liveliest kind. There is not a solitary scrap of +looking-glass in the house, and the washing apparatus is +identical with the cooking utensils. But the yellow dwarf +sets on the table a good flask of excellent wine, holding a quart +at least; and produces, among half-a-dozen other dishes, +two-thirds of a roasted kid, smoking hot. She is as +good-humoured, too, as dirty, which is saying a great deal. +So here’s long life to her, in the flask of wine, and +prosperity to the establishment.</p> +<p>Rome gained and left behind, and with it the Pilgrims who are +now repairing to their own homes again—each with his +scallop shell and staff, and soliciting alms for the love of +God—we come, by a fair country, to the Falls of Terni, +where the whole Velino river dashes, headlong, from a rocky +height, amidst shining spray and rainbows. Perugia, +strongly fortified by art and nature, on a lofty eminence, rising +abruptly from the plain where purple mountains mingle with the +distant sky, is glowing, on its market-day, with radiant +colours. They set off its sombre but rich Gothic buildings +admirably. The pavement of its market-place is strewn with +country goods. All along the steep hill leading from the +town, under the town wall, there is a noisy fair of calves, +lambs, pigs, horses, mules, and oxen. Fowls, geese, and +turkeys, flutter vigorously among their very hoofs; and buyers, +sellers, and spectators, clustering everywhere, block up the road +as we come shouting down upon them.</p> +<p>Suddenly, there is a ringing sound among our horses. The +driver stops them. Sinking in his saddle, and casting up +his eyes to Heaven, he delivers this apostrophe, ‘Oh Jove +Omnipotent! here is a horse has lost his shoe!’</p> +<p>Notwithstanding the tremendous nature of this accident, and +the utterly forlorn look and gesture (impossible in any one but +an Italian Vetturíno) with which it is announced, it is +not long in being repaired by a mortal Farrier, by whose +assistance we reach Castiglione the same night, and Arezzo next +day. Mass is, of course, performing in its fine cathedral, +where the sun shines in among the clustered pillars, through rich +stained-glass windows: half revealing, half concealing the +kneeling figures on the pavement, and striking out paths of +spotted light in the long aisles.</p> +<p>But, how much beauty of another kind is here, when, on a fair +clear morning, we look, from the summit of a hill, on +Florence! See where it lies before us in a sun-lighted +valley, bright with the winding Arno, and shut in by swelling +hills; its domes, and towers, and palaces, rising from the rich +country in a glittering heap, and shining in the sun like +gold!</p> +<p>Magnificently stern and sombre are the streets of beautiful +Florence; and the strong old piles of building make such heaps of +shadow, on the ground and in the river, that there is another and +a different city of rich forms and fancies, always lying at our +feet. Prodigious palaces, constructed for defence, with +small distrustful windows heavily barred, and walls of great +thickness formed of huge masses of rough stone, frown, in their +old sulky state, on every street. In the midst of the +city—in the Piazza of the Grand Duke, adorned with +beautiful statues and the Fountain of Neptune—rises the +Palazzo Vecchio, with its enormous overhanging battlements, and +the Great Tower that watches over the whole town. In its +court-yard—worthy of the Castle of Otranto in its ponderous +gloom—is a massive staircase that the heaviest waggon and +the stoutest team of horses might be driven up. Within it, +is a Great Saloon, faded and tarnished in its stately +decorations, and mouldering by grains, but recording yet, in +pictures on its walls, the triumphs of the Medici and the wars of +the old Florentine people. The prison is hard by, in an +adjacent court-yard of the building—a foul and dismal +place, where some men are shut up close, in small cells like +ovens; and where others look through bars and beg; where some are +playing draughts, and some are talking to their friends, who +smoke, the while, to purify the air; and some are buying wine and +fruit of women-vendors; and all are squalid, dirty, and vile to +look at. ‘They are merry enough, Signore,’ says +the jailer. ‘They are all blood-stained here,’ +he adds, indicating, with his hand, three-fourths of the whole +building. Before the hour is out, an old man, eighty years +of age, quarrelling over a bargain with a young girl of +seventeen, stabs her dead, in the market-place full of bright +flowers; and is brought in prisoner, to swell the number.</p> +<p>Among the four old bridges that span the river, the Ponte +Vecchio—that bridge which is covered with the shops of +Jewellers and Goldsmiths—is a most enchanting feature in +the scene. The space of one house, in the centre, being +left open, the view beyond is shown as in a frame; and that +precious glimpse of sky, and water, and rich buildings, shining +so quietly among the huddled roofs and gables on the bridge, is +exquisite. Above it, the Gallery of the Grand Duke crosses +the river. It was built to connect the two Great Palaces by +a secret passage; and it takes its jealous course among the +streets and houses, with true despotism: going where it lists, +and spurning every obstacle away, before it.</p> +<p>The Grand Duke has a worthier secret passage through the +streets, in his black robe and hood, as a member of the Compagnia +della Misericordia, which brotherhood includes all ranks of +men. If an accident take place, their office is, to raise +the sufferer, and bear him tenderly to the Hospital. If a +fire break out, it is one of their functions to repair to the +spot, and render their assistance and protection. It is, +also, among their commonest offices, to attend and console the +sick; and they neither receive money, nor eat, nor drink, in any +house they visit for this purpose. Those who are on duty +for the time, are all called together, on a moment’s +notice, by the tolling of the great bell of the Tower; and it is +said that the Grand Duke has been seen, at this sound, to rise +from his seat at table, and quietly withdraw to attend the +summons.</p> +<p>In this other large Piazza, where an irregular kind of market +is held, and stores of old iron and other small merchandise are +set out on stalls, or scattered on the pavement, are grouped +together, the Cathedral with its great Dome, the beautiful +Italian Gothic Tower the Campanile, and the Baptistery with its +wrought bronze doors. And here, a small untrodden square in +the pavement, is ‘the Stone of <span +class="smcap">Dante</span>,’ where (so runs the story) he +was used to bring his stool, and sit in contemplation. I +wonder was he ever, in his bitter exile, withheld from cursing +the very stones in the streets of Florence the ungrateful, by any +kind remembrance of this old musing-place, and its association +with gentle thoughts of little Beatrice!</p> +<p>The chapel of the Medici, the Good and Bad Angels, of +Florence; the church of Santa Croce where Michael Angelo lies +buried, and where every stone in the cloisters is eloquent on +great men’s deaths; innumerable churches, often masses of +unfinished heavy brickwork externally, but solemn and serene +within; arrest our lingering steps, in strolling through the +city.</p> +<p>In keeping with the tombs among the cloisters, is the Museum +of Natural History, famous through the world for its preparations +in wax; beginning with models of leaves, seeds, plants, inferior +animals; and gradually ascending, through separate organs of the +human frame, up to the whole structure of that wonderful +creation, exquisitely presented, as in recent death. Few +admonitions of our frail mortality can be more solemn and more +sad, or strike so home upon the heart, as the counterfeits of +Youth and Beauty that are lying there, upon their beds, in their +last sleep.</p> +<p>Beyond the walls, the whole sweet Valley of the Arno, the +convent at Fiesole, the Tower of Galileo, <span +class="smcap">Boccaccio’s</span> house, old villas and +retreats; innumerable spots of interest, all glowing in a +landscape of surpassing beauty steeped in the richest light; are +spread before us. Returning from so much brightness, how +solemn and how grand the streets again, with their great, dark, +mournful palaces, and many legends: not of siege, and war, and +might, and Iron Hand alone, but of the triumphant growth of +peaceful Arts and Sciences.</p> +<p>What light is shed upon the world, at this day, from amidst +these rugged Palaces of Florence! Here, open to all comers, +in their beautiful and calm retreats, the ancient Sculptors are +immortal, side by side with Michael Angelo, Canova, Titian, +Rembrandt, Raphael, Poets, Historians, Philosophers—those +illustrious men of history, beside whom its crowned heads and +harnessed warriors show so poor and small, and are so soon +forgotten. Here, the imperishable part of noble minds +survives, placid and equal, when strongholds of assault and +defence are overthrown; when the tyranny of the many, or the few, +or both, is but a tale; when Pride and Power are so much +cloistered dust. The fire within the stern streets, and +among the massive Palaces and Towers, kindled by rays from +Heaven, is still burning brightly, when the flickering of war is +extinguished and the household fires of generations have decayed; +as thousands upon thousands of faces, rigid with the strife and +passion of the hour, have faded out of the old Squares and public +haunts, while the nameless Florentine Lady, preserved from +oblivion by a Painter’s hand, yet lives on, in enduring +grace and youth.</p> +<p>Let us look back on Florence while we may, and when its +shining Dome is seen no more, go travelling through cheerful +Tuscany, with a bright remembrance of it; for Italy will be the +fairer for the recollection. The summer-time being come: +and Genoa, and Milan, and the Lake of Como lying far behind us: +and we resting at Faido, a Swiss village, near the awful rocks +and mountains, the everlasting snows and roaring cataracts, of +the Great Saint Gothard: hearing the Italian tongue for the last +time on this journey: let us part from Italy, with all its +miseries and wrongs, affectionately, in our admiration of the +beauties, natural and artificial, of which it is full to +overflowing, and in our tenderness towards a people, naturally +well-disposed, and patient, and sweet-tempered. Years of +neglect, oppression, and misrule, have been at work, to change +their nature and reduce their spirit; miserable jealousies, +fomented by petty Princes to whom union was destruction, and +division strength, have been a canker at their root of +nationality, and have barbarized their language; but the good +that was in them ever, is in them yet, and a noble people may be, +one day, raised up from these ashes. Let us entertain that +hope! And let us not remember Italy the less regardfully, +because, in every fragment of her fallen Temples, and every stone +of her deserted palaces and prisons, she helps to inculcate the +lesson that the wheel of Time is rolling for an end, and that the +world is, in all great essentials, better, gentler, more +forbearing, and more hopeful, as it rolls!</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center">THE END</p> +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">PRINTED +BY</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, +LIMITED,</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">LONDON AND BECCLES.</span></p> +<h2>FOOTNOTES</h2> +<p><a name="footnote1"></a><a href="#citation1" +class="footnote">[1]</a> This Project Gutenberg eText +contains just <i>Pictures from Italy</i>. <i>American +Notes</i> is also available from Project Gutenberg as a separate +eText.—DP.</p> +<p><a name="footnote216"></a><a href="#citation216" +class="footnote">[216]</a> This was written in 1846.</p> +<p><a name="footnote272"></a><a href="#citation272" +class="footnote">[272]</a> A far more liberal and just +recognition of the public has arisen in Westminster Abbey since +this was written.</p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PICTURES FROM ITALY***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 650-h.htm or 650-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/6/5/650 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at + www.gutenberg.org/license. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 +North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email +contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the +Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. +</pre></body> +</html> diff --git a/650-h/images/p218b.jpg b/650-h/images/p218b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d71bdcb --- /dev/null +++ b/650-h/images/p218b.jpg diff --git a/650-h/images/p218s.jpg b/650-h/images/p218s.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..dbaec58 --- /dev/null +++ b/650-h/images/p218s.jpg diff --git a/650-h/images/p250b.jpg b/650-h/images/p250b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c33f51c --- /dev/null +++ b/650-h/images/p250b.jpg diff --git a/650-h/images/p250s.jpg b/650-h/images/p250s.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..df9e8ac --- /dev/null +++ b/650-h/images/p250s.jpg diff --git a/650-h/images/p294b.jpg b/650-h/images/p294b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..711f110 --- /dev/null +++ b/650-h/images/p294b.jpg diff --git a/650-h/images/p294s.jpg b/650-h/images/p294s.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..05244af --- /dev/null +++ b/650-h/images/p294s.jpg diff --git a/650-h/images/p326b.jpg b/650-h/images/p326b.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6a8bcd0 --- /dev/null +++ b/650-h/images/p326b.jpg diff --git a/650-h/images/p326s.jpg b/650-h/images/p326s.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..796e3c9 --- /dev/null +++ b/650-h/images/p326s.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..78953d2 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #650 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/650) diff --git a/old/picit10.txt b/old/picit10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f4d593 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/picit10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7567 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pictures from Italy, by Charles Dickens +(#7 in our series by Charles Dickens) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Pictures from Italy + +Author: Charles Dickens + +Release Date: September, 1996 [EBook #650] +[This file was first posted on September 17, 1996] +[Most recently updated: September 2, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, PICTURES FROM ITALY *** + + + + +Transcribed from the 1913 Chapman & Hall, Ltd. edition by David +Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + +PICTURES FROM ITALY + + + + + +THE READER'S PASSPORT + + + +If the readers of this volume will be so kind as to take their +credentials for the different places which are the subject of its +author's reminiscences, from the Author himself, perhaps they may +visit them, in fancy, the more agreeably, and with a better +understanding of what they are to expect. + +Many books have been written upon Italy, affording many means of +studying the history of that interesting country, and the +innumerable associations entwined about it. I make but little +reference to that stock of information; not at all regarding it as +a necessary consequence of my having had recourse to the storehouse +for my own benefit, that I should reproduce its easily accessible +contents before the eyes of my readers. + +Neither will there be found, in these pages, any grave examination +into the government or misgovernment of any portion of the country. +No visitor of that beautiful land can fail to have a strong +conviction on the subject; but as I chose when residing there, a +Foreigner, to abstain from the discussion of any such questions +with any order of Italians, so I would rather not enter on the +inquiry now. During my twelve months' occupation of a house at +Genoa, I never found that authorities constitutionally jealous were +distrustful of me; and I should be sorry to give them occasion to +regret their free courtesy, either to myself or any of my +countrymen. + +There is, probably, not a famous Picture or Statue in all Italy, +but could be easily buried under a mountain of printed paper +devoted to dissertations on it. I do not, therefore, though an +earnest admirer of Painting and Sculpture, expatiate at any length +on famous Pictures and Statues. + +This Book is a series of faint reflections--mere shadows in the +water--of places to which the imaginations of most people are +attracted in a greater or less degree, on which mine had dwelt for +years, and which have some interest for all. The greater part of +the descriptions were written on the spot, and sent home, from time +to time, in private letters. I do not mention the circumstance as +an excuse for any defects they may present, for it would be none; +but as a guarantee to the Reader that they were at least penned in +the fulness of the subject, and with the liveliest impressions of +novelty and freshness. + +If they have ever a fanciful and idle air, perhaps the reader will +suppose them written in the shade of a Sunny Day, in the midst of +the objects of which they treat, and will like them none the worse +for having such influences of the country upon them. + +I hope I am not likely to be misunderstood by Professors of the +Roman Catholic faith, on account of anything contained in these +pages. I have done my best, in one of my former productions, to do +justice to them; and I trust, in this, they will do justice to me. +When I mention any exhibition that impressed me as absurd or +disagreeable, I do not seek to connect it, or recognise it as +necessarily connected with, any essentials of their creed. When I +treat of the ceremonies of the Holy Week, I merely treat of their +effect, and do not challenge the good and learned Dr. Wiseman's +interpretation of their meaning. When I hint a dislike of +nunneries for young girls who abjure the world before they have +ever proved or known it; or doubt the ex officio sanctity of all +Priests and Friars; I do no more than many conscientious Catholics +both abroad and at home. + +I have likened these Pictures to shadows in the water, and would +fain hope that I have, nowhere, stirred the water so roughly, as to +mar the shadows. I could never desire to be on better terms with +all my friends than now, when distant mountains rise, once more, in +my path. For I need not hesitate to avow, that, bent on correcting +a brief mistake I made, not long ago, in disturbing the old +relations between myself and my readers, and departing for a moment +from my old pursuits, I am about to resume them, joyfully, in +Switzerland; where during another year of absence, I can at once +work out the themes I have now in my mind, without interruption: +and while I keep my English audience within speaking distance, +extend my knowledge of a noble country, inexpressibly attractive to +me. {1} + +This book is made as accessible as possible, because it would be a +great pleasure to me if I could hope, through its means, to compare +impressions with some among the multitudes who will hereafter visit +the scenes described with interest and delight. + +And I have only now, in passport wise, to sketch my reader's +portrait, which I hope may be thus supposititiously traced for +either sex: + +Complexion Fair. +Eyes Very cheerful. +Nose Not supercilious. +Mouth Smiling. +Visage Beaming. +General Expression Extremely agreeable. + + + +CHAPTER I--GOING THROUGH FRANCE + + + +On a fine Sunday morning in the Midsummer time and weather of +eighteen hundred and forty-four, it was, my good friend, when-- +don't be alarmed; not when two travellers might have been observed +slowly making their way over that picturesque and broken ground by +which the first chapter of a Middle Aged novel is usually attained- +-but when an English travelling-carriage of considerable +proportions, fresh from the shady halls of the Pantechnicon near +Belgrave Square, London, was observed (by a very small French +soldier; for I saw him look at it) to issue from the gate of the +Hotel Meurice in the Rue Rivoli at Paris. + +I am no more bound to explain why the English family travelling by +this carriage, inside and out, should be starting for Italy on a +Sunday morning, of all good days in the week, than I am to assign a +reason for all the little men in France being soldiers, and all the +big men postilions; which is the invariable rule. But, they had +some sort of reason for what they did, I have no doubt; and their +reason for being there at all, was, as you know, that they were +going to live in fair Genoa for a year; and that the head of the +family purposed, in that space of time, to stroll about, wherever +his restless humour carried him. + +And it would have been small comfort to me to have explained to the +population of Paris generally, that I was that Head and Chief; and +not the radiant embodiment of good humour who sat beside me in the +person of a French Courier--best of servants and most beaming of +men! Truth to say, he looked a great deal more patriarchal than I, +who, in the shadow of his portly presence, dwindled down to no +account at all. + +There was, of course, very little in the aspect of Paris--as we +rattled near the dismal Morgue and over the Pont Neuf--to reproach +us for our Sunday travelling. The wine-shops (every second house) +were driving a roaring trade; awnings were spreading, and chairs +and tables arranging, outside the cafes, preparatory to the eating +of ices, and drinking of cool liquids, later in the day; shoe- +blacks were busy on the bridges; shops were open; carts and waggons +clattered to and fro; the narrow, up-hill, funnel-like streets +across the River, were so many dense perspectives of crowd and +bustle, parti-coloured nightcaps, tobacco-pipes, blouses, large +boots, and shaggy heads of hair; nothing at that hour denoted a day +of rest, unless it were the appearance, here and there, of a family +pleasure-party, crammed into a bulky old lumbering cab; or of some +contemplative holiday-maker in the freest and easiest dishabille, +leaning out of a low garret window, watching the drying of his +newly polished shoes on the little parapet outside (if a +gentleman), or the airing of her stockings in the sun (if a lady), +with calm anticipation. + +Once clear of the never-to-be-forgotten-or-forgiven pavement which +surrounds Paris, the first three days of travelling towards +Marseilles are quiet and monotonous enough. To Sens. To Avallon. +To Chalons. A sketch of one day's proceedings is a sketch of all +three; and here it is. + +We have four horses, and one postilion, who has a very long whip, +and drives his team, something like the Courier of Saint +Petersburgh in the circle at Astley's or Franconi's: only he sits +his own horse instead of standing on him. The immense jack-boots +worn by these postilions, are sometimes a century or two old; and +are so ludicrously disproportionate to the wearer's foot, that the +spur, which is put where his own heel comes, is generally halfway +up the leg of the boots. The man often comes out of the stable- +yard, with his whip in his hand and his shoes on, and brings out, +in both hands, one boot at a time, which he plants on the ground by +the side of his horse, with great gravity, until everything is +ready. When it is--and oh Heaven! the noise they make about it!-- +he gets into the boots, shoes and all, or is hoisted into them by a +couple of friends; adjusts the rope harness, embossed by the +labours of innumerable pigeons in the stables; makes all the horses +kick and plunge; cracks his whip like a madman; shouts 'En route-- +Hi!' and away we go. He is sure to have a contest with his horse +before we have gone very far; and then he calls him a Thief, and a +Brigand, and a Pig, and what not; and beats him about the head as +if he were made of wood. + +There is little more than one variety in the appearance of the +country, for the first two days. From a dreary plain, to an +interminable avenue, and from an interminable avenue to a dreary +plain again. Plenty of vines there are in the open fields, but of +a short low kind, and not trained in festoons, but about straight +sticks. Beggars innumerable there are, everywhere; but an +extraordinarily scanty population, and fewer children than I ever +encountered. I don't believe we saw a hundred children between +Paris and Chalons. Queer old towns, draw-bridged and walled: with +odd little towers at the angles, like grotesque faces, as if the +wall had put a mask on, and were staring down into the moat; other +strange little towers, in gardens and fields, and down lanes, and +in farm-yards: all alone, and always round, with a peaked roof, +and never used for any purpose at all; ruinous buildings of all +sorts; sometimes an hotel de ville, sometimes a guard-house, +sometimes a dwelling-house, sometimes a chateau with a rank garden, +prolific in dandelion, and watched over by extinguisher-topped +turrets, and blink-eyed little casements; are the standard objects, +repeated over and over again. Sometimes we pass a village inn, +with a crumbling wall belonging to it, and a perfect town of out- +houses; and painted over the gateway, 'Stabling for Sixty Horses;' +as indeed there might be stabling for sixty score, were there any +horses to be stabled there, or anybody resting there, or anything +stirring about the place but a dangling bush, indicative of the +wine inside: which flutters idly in the wind, in lazy keeping with +everything else, and certainly is never in a green old age, though +always so old as to be dropping to pieces. And all day long, +strange little narrow waggons, in strings of six or eight, bringing +cheese from Switzerland, and frequently in charge, the whole line, +of one man, or even boy--and he very often asleep in the foremost +cart--come jingling past: the horses drowsily ringing the bells +upon their harness, and looking as if they thought (no doubt they +do) their great blue woolly furniture, of immense weight and +thickness, with a pair of grotesque horns growing out of the +collar, very much too warm for the Midsummer weather. + +Then, there is the Diligence, twice or thrice a-day; with the dusty +outsides in blue frocks, like butchers; and the insides in white +nightcaps; and its cabriolet head on the roof, nodding and shaking, +like an idiot's head; and its Young-France passengers staring out +of window, with beards down to their waists, and blue spectacles +awfully shading their warlike eyes, and very big sticks clenched in +their National grasp. Also the Malle Poste, with only a couple of +passengers, tearing along at a real good dare-devil pace, and out +of sight in no time. Steady old Cures come jolting past, now and +then, in such ramshackle, rusty, musty, clattering coaches as no +Englishman would believe in; and bony women dawdle about in +solitary places, holding cows by ropes while they feed, or digging +and hoeing or doing field-work of a more laborious kind, or +representing real shepherdesses with their flocks--to obtain an +adequate idea of which pursuit and its followers, in any country, +it is only necessary to take any pastoral poem, or picture, and +imagine to yourself whatever is most exquisitely and widely unlike +the descriptions therein contained. + +You have been travelling along, stupidly enough, as you generally +do in the last stage of the day; and the ninety-six bells upon the +horses--twenty-four apiece--have been ringing sleepily in your ears +for half an hour or so; and it has become a very jog-trot, +monotonous, tiresome sort of business; and you have been thinking +deeply about the dinner you will have at the next stage; when, down +at the end of the long avenue of trees through which you are +travelling, the first indication of a town appears, in the shape of +some straggling cottages: and the carriage begins to rattle and +roll over a horribly uneven pavement. As if the equipage were a +great firework, and the mere sight of a smoking cottage chimney had +lighted it, instantly it begins to crack and splutter, as if the +very devil were in it. Crack, crack, crack, crack. Crack-crack- +crack. Crick-crack. Crick-crack. Helo! Hola! Vite! Voleur! +Brigand! Hi hi hi! En r-r-r-r-r-route! Whip, wheels, driver, +stones, beggars, children, crack, crack, crack; helo! hola! charite +pour l'amour de Dieu! crick-crack-crick-crack; crick, crick, crick; +bump, jolt, crack, bump, crick-crack; round the corner, up the +narrow street, down the paved hill on the other side; in the +gutter; bump, bump; jolt, jog, crick, crick, crick; crack, crack, +crack; into the shop-windows on the left-hand side of the street, +preliminary to a sweeping turn into the wooden archway on the +right; rumble, rumble, rumble; clatter, clatter, clatter; crick, +crick, crick; and here we are in the yard of the Hotel de l'Ecu +d'Or; used up, gone out, smoking, spent, exhausted; but sometimes +making a false start unexpectedly, with nothing coming of it--like +a firework to the last! + +The landlady of the Hotel de l'Ecu d'Or is here; and the landlord +of the Hotel de l'Ecu d'Or is here; and the femme de chambre of the +Hotel de l'Ecu d'Or is here; and a gentleman in a glazed cap, with +a red beard like a bosom friend, who is staying at the Hotel de +l'Ecu d'Or, is here; and Monsieur le Cure is walking up and down in +a corner of the yard by himself, with a shovel hat upon his head, +and a black gown on his back, and a book in one hand, and an +umbrella in the other; and everybody, except Monsieur le Cure, is +open-mouthed and open-eyed, for the opening of the carriage-door. +The landlord of the Hotel de l'Ecu d'Or, dotes to that extent upon +the Courier, that he can hardly wait for his coming down from the +box, but embraces his very legs and boot-heels as he descends. 'My +Courier! My brave Courier! My friend! My brother!' The landlady +loves him, the femme de chambre blesses him, the garcon worships +him. The Courier asks if his letter has been received? It has, it +has. Are the rooms prepared? They are, they are. The best rooms +for my noble Courier. The rooms of state for my gallant Courier; +the whole house is at the service of my best of friends! He keeps +his hand upon the carriage-door, and asks some other question to +enhance the expectation. He carries a green leathern purse outside +his coat, suspended by a belt. The idlers look at it; one touches +it. It is full of five-franc pieces. Murmurs of admiration are +heard among the boys. The landlord falls upon the Courier's neck, +and folds him to his breast. He is so much fatter than he was, he +says! He looks so rosy and so well! + +The door is opened. Breathless expectation. The lady of the +family gets out. Ah sweet lady! Beautiful lady! The sister of +the lady of the family gets out. Great Heaven, Ma'amselle is +charming! First little boy gets out. Ah, what a beautiful little +boy! First little girl gets out. Oh, but this is an enchanting +child! Second little girl gets out. The landlady, yielding to the +finest impulse of our common nature, catches her up in her arms! +Second little boy gets out. Oh, the sweet boy! Oh, the tender +little family! The baby is handed out. Angelic baby! The baby +has topped everything. All the rapture is expended on the baby! +Then the two nurses tumble out; and the enthusiasm swelling into +madness, the whole family are swept up-stairs as on a cloud; while +the idlers press about the carriage, and look into it, and walk +round it, and touch it. For it is something to touch a carriage +that has held so many people. It is a legacy to leave one's +children. + +The rooms are on the first floor, except the nursery for the night, +which is a great rambling chamber, with four or five beds in it: +through a dark passage, up two steps, down four, past a pump, +across a balcony, and next door to the stable. The other sleeping +apartments are large and lofty; each with two small bedsteads, +tastefully hung, like the windows, with red and white drapery. The +sitting-room is famous. Dinner is already laid in it for three; +and the napkins are folded in cocked-hat fashion. The floors are +of red tile. There are no carpets, and not much furniture to speak +of; but there is abundance of looking-glass, and there are large +vases under glass shades, filled with artificial flowers; and there +are plenty of clocks. The whole party are in motion. The brave +Courier, in particular, is everywhere: looking after the beds, +having wine poured down his throat by his dear brother the +landlord, and picking up green cucumbers--always cucumbers; Heaven +knows where he gets them--with which he walks about, one in each +hand, like truncheons. + +Dinner is announced. There is very thin soup; there are very large +loaves--one apiece; a fish; four dishes afterwards; some poultry +afterwards; a dessert afterwards; and no lack of wine. There is +not much in the dishes; but they are very good, and always ready +instantly. When it is nearly dark, the brave Courier, having eaten +the two cucumbers, sliced up in the contents of a pretty large +decanter of oil, and another of vinegar, emerges from his retreat +below, and proposes a visit to the Cathedral, whose massive tower +frowns down upon the court-yard of the inn. Off we go; and very +solemn and grand it is, in the dim light: so dim at last, that the +polite, old, lanthorn-jawed Sacristan has a feeble little bit of +candle in his hand, to grope among the tombs with--and looks among +the grim columns, very like a lost ghost who is searching for his +own. + +Underneath the balcony, when we return, the inferior servants of +the inn are supping in the open air, at a great table; the dish, a +stew of meat and vegetables, smoking hot, and served in the iron +cauldron it was boiled in. They have a pitcher of thin wine, and +are very merry; merrier than the gentleman with the red beard, who +is playing billiards in the light room on the left of the yard, +where shadows, with cues in their hands, and cigars in their +mouths, cross and recross the window, constantly. Still the thin +Cure walks up and down alone, with his book and umbrella. And +there he walks, and there the billiard-balls rattle, long after we +are fast asleep. + +We are astir at six next morning. It is a delightful day, shaming +yesterday's mud upon the carriage, if anything could shame a +carriage, in a land where carriages are never cleaned. Everybody +is brisk; and as we finish breakfast, the horses come jingling into +the yard from the Post-house. Everything taken out of the carriage +is put back again. The brave Courier announces that all is ready, +after walking into every room, and looking all round it, to be +certain that nothing is left behind. Everybody gets in. Everybody +connected with the Hotel de l'Ecu d'Or is again enchanted. The +brave Courier runs into the house for a parcel containing cold +fowl, sliced ham, bread, and biscuits, for lunch; hands it into the +coach; and runs back again. + +What has he got in his hand now? More cucumbers? No. A long +strip of paper. It's the bill. + +The brave Courier has two belts on, this morning: one supporting +the purse: another, a mighty good sort of leathern bottle, filled +to the throat with the best light Bordeaux wine in the house. He +never pays the bill till this bottle is full. Then he disputes it. + +He disputes it now, violently. He is still the landlord's brother, +but by another father or mother. He is not so nearly related to +him as he was last night. The landlord scratches his head. The +brave Courier points to certain figures in the bill, and intimates +that if they remain there, the Hotel de l'Ecu d'Or is thenceforth +and for ever an hotel de l'Ecu de cuivre. The landlord goes into a +little counting-house. The brave Courier follows, forces the bill +and a pen into his hand, and talks more rapidly than ever. The +landlord takes the pen. The Courier smiles. The landlord makes an +alteration. The Courier cuts a joke. The landlord is +affectionate, but not weakly so. He bears it like a man. He +shakes hands with his brave brother, but he don't hug him. Still, +he loves his brother; for he knows that he will be returning that +way, one of these fine days, with another family, and he foresees +that his heart will yearn towards him again. The brave Courier +traverses all round the carriage once, looks at the drag, inspects +the wheels, jumps up, gives the word, and away we go! + +It is market morning. The market is held in the little square +outside in front of the cathedral. It is crowded with men and +women, in blue, in red, in green, in white; with canvassed stalls; +and fluttering merchandise. The country people are grouped about, +with their clean baskets before them. Here, the lace-sellers; +there, the butter and egg-sellers; there, the fruit-sellers; there, +the shoe-makers. The whole place looks as if it were the stage of +some great theatre, and the curtain had just run up, for a +picturesque ballet. And there is the cathedral to boot: scene- +like: all grim, and swarthy, and mouldering, and cold: just +splashing the pavement in one place with faint purple drops, as the +morning sun, entering by a little window on the eastern side, +struggles through some stained glass panes, on the western. + +In five minutes we have passed the iron cross, with a little ragged +kneeling-place of turf before it, in the outskirts of the town; and +are again upon the road. + + + +CHAPTER II--LYONS, THE RHONE, AND THE GOBLIN OF AVIGNON + + + +Chalons is a fair resting-place, in right of its good inn on the +bank of the river, and the little steamboats, gay with green and +red paint, that come and go upon it: which make up a pleasant and +refreshing scene, after the dusty roads. But, unless you would +like to dwell on an enormous plain, with jagged rows of irregular +poplars on it, that look in the distance like so many combs with +broken teeth: and unless you would like to pass your life without +the possibility of going up-hill, or going up anything but stairs: +you would hardly approve of Chalons as a place of residence. + +You would probably like it better, however, than Lyons: which you +may reach, if you will, in one of the before-mentioned steamboats, +in eight hours. + +What a city Lyons is! Talk about people feeling, at certain +unlucky times, as if they had tumbled from the clouds! Here is a +whole town that is tumbled, anyhow, out of the sky; having been +first caught up, like other stones that tumble down from that +region, out of fens and barren places, dismal to behold! The two +great streets through which the two great rivers dash, and all the +little streets whose name is Legion, were scorching, blistering, +and sweltering. The houses, high and vast, dirty to excess, rotten +as old cheeses, and as thickly peopled. All up the hills that hem +the city in, these houses swarm; and the mites inside were lolling +out of the windows, and drying their ragged clothes on poles, and +crawling in and out at the doors, and coming out to pant and gasp +upon the pavement, and creeping in and out among huge piles and +bales of fusty, musty, stifling goods; and living, or rather not +dying till their time should come, in an exhausted receiver. Every +manufacturing town, melted into one, would hardly convey an +impression of Lyons as it presented itself to me: for all the +undrained, unscavengered qualities of a foreign town, seemed +grafted, there, upon the native miseries of a manufacturing one; +and it bears such fruit as I would go some miles out of my way to +avoid encountering again. + +In the cool of the evening: or rather in the faded heat of the +day: we went to see the Cathedral, where divers old women, and a +few dogs, were engaged in contemplation. There was no difference, +in point of cleanliness, between its stone pavement and that of the +streets; and there was a wax saint, in a little box like a berth +aboard ship, with a glass front to it, whom Madame Tussaud would +have nothing to say to, on any terms, and which even Westminster +Abbey might be ashamed of. If you would know all about the +architecture of this church, or any other, its dates, dimensions, +endowments, and history, is it not written in Mr. Murray's Guide- +Book, and may you not read it there, with thanks to him, as I did! + +For this reason, I should abstain from mentioning the curious clock +in Lyons Cathedral, if it were not for a small mistake I made, in +connection with that piece of mechanism. The keeper of the church +was very anxious it should be shown; partly for the honour of the +establishment and the town; and partly, perhaps, because of his +deriving a percentage from the additional consideration. However +that may be, it was set in motion, and thereupon a host of little +doors flew open, and innumerable little figures staggered out of +them, and jerked themselves back again, with that special +unsteadiness of purpose, and hitching in the gait, which usually +attaches to figures that are moved by clock-work. Meanwhile, the +Sacristan stood explaining these wonders, and pointing them out, +severally, with a wand. There was a centre puppet of the Virgin +Mary; and close to her, a small pigeon-hole, out of which another +and a very ill-looking puppet made one of the most sudden plunges I +ever saw accomplished: instantly flopping back again at sight of +her, and banging his little door violently after him. Taking this +to be emblematic of the victory over Sin and Death, and not at all +unwilling to show that I perfectly understood the subject, in +anticipation of the showman, I rashly said, 'Aha! The Evil Spirit. +To be sure. He is very soon disposed of.' 'Pardon, Monsieur,' +said the Sacristan, with a polite motion of his hand towards the +little door, as if introducing somebody--'The Angel Gabriel!' + +Soon after daybreak next morning, we were steaming down the Arrowy +Rhone, at the rate of twenty miles an hour, in a very dirty vessel +full of merchandise, and with only three or four other passengers +for our companions: among whom, the most remarkable was a silly, +old, meek-faced, garlic-eating, immeasurably polite Chevalier, with +a dirty scrap of red ribbon hanging at his button-hole, as if he +had tied it there to remind himself of something; as Tom Noddy, in +the farce, ties knots in his pocket-handkerchief. + +For the last two days, we had seen great sullen hills, the first +indications of the Alps, lowering in the distance. Now, we were +rushing on beside them: sometimes close beside them: sometimes +with an intervening slope, covered with vineyards. Villages and +small towns hanging in mid-air, with great woods of olives seen +through the light open towers of their churches, and clouds moving +slowly on, upon the steep acclivity behind them; ruined castles +perched on every eminence; and scattered houses in the clefts and +gullies of the hills; made it very beautiful. The great height of +these, too, making the buildings look so tiny, that they had all +the charm of elegant models; their excessive whiteness, as +contrasted with the brown rocks, or the sombre, deep, dull, heavy +green of the olive-tree; and the puny size, and little slow walk of +the Lilliputian men and women on the bank; made a charming picture. +There were ferries out of number, too; bridges; the famous Pont +d'Esprit, with I don't know how many arches; towns where memorable +wines are made; Vallence, where Napoleon studied; and the noble +river, bringing at every winding turn, new beauties into view. + +There lay before us, that same afternoon, the broken bridge of +Avignon, and all the city baking in the sun; yet with an under- +done-pie-crust, battlemented wall, that never will be brown, though +it bake for centuries. + +The grapes were hanging in clusters in the streets, and the +brilliant Oleander was in full bloom everywhere. The streets are +old and very narrow, but tolerably clean, and shaded by awnings +stretched from house to house. Bright stuffs and handkerchiefs, +curiosities, ancient frames of carved wood, old chairs, ghostly +tables, saints, virgins, angels, and staring daubs of portraits, +being exposed for sale beneath, it was very quaint and lively. All +this was much set off, too, by the glimpses one caught, through a +rusty gate standing ajar, of quiet sleepy court-yards, having +stately old houses within, as silent as tombs. It was all very +like one of the descriptions in the Arabian Nights. The three one- +eyed Calenders might have knocked at any one of those doors till +the street rang again, and the porter who persisted in asking +questions--the man who had the delicious purchases put into his +basket in the morning--might have opened it quite naturally. + +After breakfast next morning, we sallied forth to see the lions. +Such a delicious breeze was blowing in, from the north, as made the +walk delightful: though the pavement-stones, and stones of the +walls and houses, were far too hot to have a hand laid on them +comfortably. + +We went, first of all, up a rocky height, to the cathedral: where +Mass was performing to an auditory very like that of Lyons, namely, +several old women, a baby, and a very self-possessed dog, who had +marked out for himself a little course or platform for exercise, +beginning at the altar-rails and ending at the door, up and down +which constitutional walk he trotted, during the service, as +methodically and calmly, as any old gentleman out of doors. + +It is a bare old church, and the paintings in the roof are sadly +defaced by time and damp weather; but the sun was shining in, +splendidly, through the red curtains of the windows, and glittering +on the altar furniture; and it looked as bright and cheerful as +need be. + +Going apart, in this church, to see some painting which was being +executed in fresco by a French artist and his pupil, I was led to +observe more closely than I might otherwise have done, a great +number of votive offerings with which the walls of the different +chapels were profusely hung. I will not say decorated, for they +were very roughly and comically got up; most likely by poor sign- +painters, who eke out their living in that way. They were all +little pictures: each representing some sickness or calamity from +which the person placing it there, had escaped, through the +interposition of his or her patron saint, or of the Madonna; and I +may refer to them as good specimens of the class generally. They +are abundant in Italy. + +In a grotesque squareness of outline, and impossibility of +perspective, they are not unlike the woodcuts in old books; but +they were oil-paintings, and the artist, like the painter of the +Primrose family, had not been sparing of his colours. In one, a +lady was having a toe amputated--an operation which a saintly +personage had sailed into the room, upon a couch, to superintend. +In another, a lady was lying in bed, tucked up very tight and prim, +and staring with much composure at a tripod, with a slop-basin on +it; the usual form of washing-stand, and the only piece of +furniture, besides the bedstead, in her chamber. One would never +have supposed her to be labouring under any complaint, beyond the +inconvenience of being miraculously wide awake, if the painter had +not hit upon the idea of putting all her family on their knees in +one corner, with their legs sticking out behind them on the floor, +like boot-trees. Above whom, the Virgin, on a kind of blue divan, +promised to restore the patient. In another case, a lady was in +the very act of being run over, immediately outside the city walls, +by a sort of piano-forte van. But the Madonna was there again. +Whether the supernatural appearance had startled the horse (a bay +griffin), or whether it was invisible to him, I don't know; but he +was galloping away, ding dong, without the smallest reverence or +compunction. On every picture 'Ex voto' was painted in yellow +capitals in the sky. + +Though votive offerings were not unknown in Pagan Temples, and are +evidently among the many compromises made between the false +religion and the true, when the true was in its infancy, I could +wish that all the other compromises were as harmless. Gratitude +and Devotion are Christian qualities; and a grateful, humble, +Christian spirit may dictate the observance. + +Hard by the cathedral stands the ancient Palace of the Popes, of +which one portion is now a common jail, and another a noisy +barrack: while gloomy suites of state apartments, shut up and +deserted, mock their own old state and glory, like the embalmed +bodies of kings. But we neither went there, to see state rooms, +nor soldiers' quarters, nor a common jail, though we dropped some +money into a prisoners' box outside, whilst the prisoners, +themselves, looked through the iron bars, high up, and watched us +eagerly. We went to see the ruins of the dreadful rooms in which +the Inquisition used to sit. + +A little, old, swarthy woman, with a pair of flashing black eyes,-- +proof that the world hadn't conjured down the devil within her, +though it had had between sixty and seventy years to do it in,-- +came out of the Barrack Cabaret, of which she was the keeper, with +some large keys in her hands, and marshalled us the way that we +should go. How she told us, on the way, that she was a Government +Officer (concierge du palais a apostolique), and had been, for I +don't know how many years; and how she had shown these dungeons to +princes; and how she was the best of dungeon demonstrators; and how +she had resided in the palace from an infant,--had been born there, +if I recollect right,--I needn't relate. But such a fierce, +little, rapid, sparkling, energetic she-devil I never beheld. She +was alight and flaming, all the time. Her action was violent in +the extreme. She never spoke, without stopping expressly for the +purpose. She stamped her feet, clutched us by the arms, flung +herself into attitudes, hammered against walls with her keys, for +mere emphasis: now whispered as if the Inquisition were there +still: now shrieked as if she were on the rack herself; and had a +mysterious, hag-like way with her forefinger, when approaching the +remains of some new horror--looking back and walking stealthily, +and making horrible grimaces--that might alone have qualified her +to walk up and down a sick man's counterpane, to the exclusion of +all other figures, through a whole fever. + +Passing through the court-yard, among groups of idle soldiers, we +turned off by a gate, which this She-Goblin unlocked for our +admission, and locked again behind us: and entered a narrow court, +rendered narrower by fallen stones and heaps of rubbish; part of it +choking up the mouth of a ruined subterranean passage, that once +communicated (or is said to have done so) with another castle on +the opposite bank of the river. Close to this court-yard is a +dungeon--we stood within it, in another minute--in the dismal tower +des oubliettes, where Rienzi was imprisoned, fastened by an iron +chain to the very wall that stands there now, but shut out from the +sky which now looks down into it. A few steps brought us to the +Cachots, in which the prisoners of the Inquisition were confined +for forty-eight hours after their capture, without food or drink, +that their constancy might be shaken, even before they were +confronted with their gloomy judges. The day has not got in there +yet. They are still small cells, shut in by four unyielding, +close, hard walls; still profoundly dark; still massively doored +and fastened, as of old. + +Goblin, looking back as I have described, went softly on, into a +vaulted chamber, now used as a store-room: once the chapel of the +Holy Office. The place where the tribunal sat, was plain. The +platform might have been removed but yesterday. Conceive the +parable of the Good Samaritan having been painted on the wall of +one of these Inquisition chambers! But it was, and may be traced +there yet. + +High up in the jealous wall, are niches where the faltering replies +of the accused were heard and noted down. Many of them had been +brought out of the very cell we had just looked into, so awfully; +along the same stone passage. We had trodden in their very +footsteps. + +I am gazing round me, with the horror that the place inspires, when +Goblin clutches me by the wrist, and lays, not her skinny finger, +but the handle of a key, upon her lip. She invites me, with a +jerk, to follow her. I do so. She leads me out into a room +adjoining--a rugged room, with a funnel-shaped, contracting roof, +open at the top, to the bright day. I ask her what it is. She +folds her arms, leers hideously, and stares. I ask again. She +glances round, to see that all the little company are there; sits +down upon a mound of stones; throws up her arms, and yells out, +like a fiend, 'La Salle de la Question!' + +The Chamber of Torture! And the roof was made of that shape to +stifle the victim's cries! Oh Goblin, Goblin, let us think of this +awhile, in silence. Peace, Goblin! Sit with your short arms +crossed on your short legs, upon that heap of stones, for only five +minutes, and then flame out again. + +Minutes! Seconds are not marked upon the Palace clock, when, with +her eyes flashing fire, Goblin is up, in the middle of the chamber, +describing, with her sunburnt arms, a wheel of heavy blows. Thus +it ran round! cries Goblin. Mash, mash, mash! An endless routine +of heavy hammers. Mash, mash, mash! upon the sufferer's limbs. +See the stone trough! says Goblin. For the water torture! Gurgle, +swill, bloat, burst, for the Redeemer's honour! Suck the bloody +rag, deep down into your unbelieving body, Heretic, at every breath +you draw! And when the executioner plucks it out, reeking with the +smaller mysteries of God's own Image, know us for His chosen +servants, true believers in the Sermon on the Mount, elect +disciples of Him who never did a miracle but to heal: who never +struck a man with palsy, blindness, deafness, dumbness, madness, +any one affliction of mankind; and never stretched His blessed hand +out, but to give relief and ease! + +See! cries Goblin. There the furnace was. There they made the +irons red-hot. Those holes supported the sharp stake, on which the +tortured persons hung poised: dangling with their whole weight +from the roof. 'But;' and Goblin whispers this; 'Monsieur has +heard of this tower? Yes? Let Monsieur look down, then!' + +A cold air, laden with an earthy smell, falls upon the face of +Monsieur; for she has opened, while speaking, a trap-door in the +wall. Monsieur looks in. Downward to the bottom, upward to the +top, of a steep, dark, lofty tower: very dismal, very dark, very +cold. The Executioner of the Inquisition, says Goblin, edging in +her head to look down also, flung those who were past all further +torturing, down here. 'But look! does Monsieur see the black +stains on the wall?' A glance, over his shoulder, at Goblin's keen +eye, shows Monsieur--and would without the aid of the directing +key--where they are. 'What are they?' 'Blood!' + +In October, 1791, when the Revolution was at its height here, sixty +persons: men and women ('and priests,' says Goblin, 'priests'): +were murdered, and hurled, the dying and the dead, into this +dreadful pit, where a quantity of quick-lime was tumbled down upon +their bodies. Those ghastly tokens of the massacre were soon no +more; but while one stone of the strong building in which the deed +was done, remains upon another, there they will lie in the memories +of men, as plain to see as the splashing of their blood upon the +wall is now. + +Was it a portion of the great scheme of Retribution, that the cruel +deed should be committed in this place! That a part of the +atrocities and monstrous institutions, which had been, for scores +of years, at work, to change men's nature, should in its last +service, tempt them with the ready means of gratifying their +furious and beastly rage! Should enable them to show themselves, +in the height of their frenzy, no worse than a great, solemn, legal +establishment, in the height of its power! No worse! Much better. +They used the Tower of the Forgotten, in the name of Liberty--their +liberty; an earth-born creature, nursed in the black mud of the +Bastile moats and dungeons, and necessarily betraying many +evidences of its unwholesome bringing-up--but the Inquisition used +it in the name of Heaven. + +Goblin's finger is lifted; and she steals out again, into the +Chapel of the Holy Office. She stops at a certain part of the +flooring. Her great effect is at hand. She waits for the rest. +She darts at the brave Courier, who is explaining something; hits +him a sounding rap on the hat with the largest key; and bids him be +silent. She assembles us all, round a little trap-door in the +floor, as round a grave. + +'Voila!' she darts down at the ring, and flings the door open with +a crash, in her goblin energy, though it is no light weight. +'Voila les oubliettes! Voila les oubliettes! Subterranean! +Frightful! Black! Terrible! Deadly! Les oubliettes de +l'Inquisition!' + +My blood ran cold, as I looked from Goblin, down into the vaults, +where these forgotten creatures, with recollections of the world +outside: of wives, friends, children, brothers: starved to death, +and made the stones ring with their unavailing groans. But, the +thrill I felt on seeing the accursed wall below, decayed and broken +through, and the sun shining in through its gaping wounds, was like +a sense of victory and triumph. I felt exalted with the proud +delight of living in these degenerate times, to see it. As if I +were the hero of some high achievement! The light in the doleful +vaults was typical of the light that has streamed in, on all +persecution in God's name, but which is not yet at its noon! It +cannot look more lovely to a blind man newly restored to sight, +than to a traveller who sees it, calmly and majestically, treading +down the darkness of that Infernal Well. + + + +CHAPTER III--AVIGNON TO GENOA + + + +Goblin, having shown les oubliettes, felt that her great coup was +struck. She let the door fall with a crash, and stood upon it with +her arms a-kimbo, sniffing prodigiously. + +When we left the place, I accompanied her into her house, under the +outer gateway of the fortress, to buy a little history of the +building. Her cabaret, a dark, low room, lighted by small windows, +sunk in the thick wall--in the softened light, and with its forge- +like chimney; its little counter by the door, with bottles, jars, +and glasses on it; its household implements and scraps of dress +against the wall; and a sober-looking woman (she must have a +congenial life of it, with Goblin,) knitting at the door--looked +exactly like a picture by OSTADE. + +I walked round the building on the outside, in a sort of dream, and +yet with the delightful sense of having awakened from it, of which +the light, down in the vaults, had given me the assurance. The +immense thickness and giddy height of the walls, the enormous +strength of the massive towers, the great extent of the building, +its gigantic proportions, frowning aspect, and barbarous +irregularity, awaken awe and wonder. The recollection of its +opposite old uses: an impregnable fortress, a luxurious palace, a +horrible prison, a place of torture, the court of the Inquisition: +at one and the same time, a house of feasting, fighting, religion, +and blood: gives to every stone in its huge form a fearful +interest, and imparts new meaning to its incongruities. I could +think of little, however, then, or long afterwards, but the sun in +the dungeons. The palace coming down to be the lounging-place of +noisy soldiers, and being forced to echo their rough talk, and +common oaths, and to have their garments fluttering from its dirty +windows, was some reduction of its state, and something to rejoice +at; but the day in its cells, and the sky for the roof of its +chambers of cruelty--that was its desolation and defeat! If I had +seen it in a blaze from ditch to rampart, I should have felt that +not that light, nor all the light in all the fire that burns, could +waste it, like the sunbeams in its secret council-chamber, and its +prisons. + +Before I quit this Palace of the Popes, let me translate from the +little history I mentioned just now, a short anecdote, quite +appropriate to itself, connected with its adventures. + +'An ancient tradition relates, that in 1441, a nephew of Pierre de +Lude, the Pope's legate, seriously insulted some distinguished +ladies of Avignon, whose relations, in revenge, seized the young +man, and horribly mutilated him. For several years the legate kept +HIS revenge within his own breast, but he was not the less resolved +upon its gratification at last. He even made, in the fulness of +time, advances towards a complete reconciliation; and when their +apparent sincerity had prevailed, he invited to a splendid banquet, +in this palace, certain families, whole families, whom he sought to +exterminate. The utmost gaiety animated the repast; but the +measures of the legate were well taken. When the dessert was on +the board, a Swiss presented himself, with the announcement that a +strange ambassador solicited an extraordinary audience. The +legate, excusing himself, for the moment, to his guests, retired, +followed by his officers. Within a few minutes afterwards, five +hundred persons were reduced to ashes: the whole of that wing of +the building having been blown into the air with a terrible +explosion!' + +After seeing the churches (I will not trouble you with churches +just now), we left Avignon that afternoon. The heat being very +great, the roads outside the walls were strewn with people fast +asleep in every little slip of shade, and with lazy groups, half +asleep and half awake, who were waiting until the sun should be low +enough to admit of their playing bowls among the burnt-up trees, +and on the dusty road. The harvest here was already gathered in, +and mules and horses were treading out the corn in the fields. We +came, at dusk, upon a wild and hilly country, once famous for +brigands; and travelled slowly up a steep ascent. So we went on, +until eleven at night, when we halted at the town of Aix (within +two stages of Marseilles) to sleep. + +The hotel, with all the blinds and shutters closed to keep the +light and heat out, was comfortable and airy next morning, and the +town was very clean; but so hot, and so intensely light, that when +I walked out at noon it was like coming suddenly from the darkened +room into crisp blue fire. The air was so very clear, that distant +hills and rocky points appeared within an hour's walk; while the +town immediately at hand--with a kind of blue wind between me and +it--seemed to be white hot, and to be throwing off a fiery air from +the surface. + +We left this town towards evening, and took the road to Marseilles. +A dusty road it was; the houses shut up close; and the vines +powdered white. At nearly all the cottage doors, women were +peeling and slicing onions into earthen bowls for supper. So they +had been doing last night all the way from Avignon. We passed one +or two shady dark chateaux, surrounded by trees, and embellished +with cool basins of water: which were the more refreshing to +behold, from the great scarcity of such residences on the road we +had travelled. As we approached Marseilles, the road began to be +covered with holiday people. Outside the public-houses were +parties smoking, drinking, playing draughts and cards, and (once) +dancing. But dust, dust, dust, everywhere. We went on, through a +long, straggling, dirty suburb, thronged with people; having on our +left a dreary slope of land, on which the country-houses of the +Marseilles merchants, always staring white, are jumbled and heaped +without the slightest order: backs, fronts, sides, and gables +towards all points of the compass; until, at last, we entered the +town. + +I was there, twice or thrice afterwards, in fair weather and foul; +and I am afraid there is no doubt that it is a dirty and +disagreeable place. But the prospect, from the fortified heights, +of the beautiful Mediterranean, with its lovely rocks and islands, +is most delightful. These heights are a desirable retreat, for +less picturesque reasons--as an escape from a compound of vile +smells perpetually arising from a great harbour full of stagnant +water, and befouled by the refuse of innumerable ships with all +sorts of cargoes: which, in hot weather, is dreadful in the last +degree. + +There were foreign sailors, of all nations, in the streets; with +red shirts, blue shirts, buff shirts, tawny shirts, and shirts of +orange colour; with red caps, blue caps, green caps, great beards, +and no beards; in Turkish turbans, glazed English hats, and +Neapolitan head-dresses. There were the townspeople sitting in +clusters on the pavement, or airing themselves on the tops of their +houses, or walking up and down the closest and least airy of +Boulevards; and there were crowds of fierce-looking people of the +lower sort, blocking up the way, constantly. In the very heart of +all this stir and uproar, was the common madhouse; a low, +contracted, miserable building, looking straight upon the street, +without the smallest screen or court-yard; where chattering mad-men +and mad-women were peeping out, through rusty bars, at the staring +faces below, while the sun, darting fiercely aslant into their +little cells, seemed to dry up their brains, and worry them, as if +they were baited by a pack of dogs. + +We were pretty well accommodated at the Hotel du Paradis, situated +in a narrow street of very high houses, with a hairdresser's shop +opposite, exhibiting in one of its windows two full-length waxen +ladies, twirling round and round: which so enchanted the +hairdresser himself, that he and his family sat in arm-chairs, and +in cool undresses, on the pavement outside, enjoying the +gratification of the passers-by, with lazy dignity. The family had +retired to rest when we went to bed, at midnight; but the +hairdresser (a corpulent man, in drab slippers) was still sitting +there, with his legs stretched out before him, and evidently +couldn't bear to have the shutters put up. + +Next day we went down to the harbour, where the sailors of all +nations were discharging and taking in cargoes of all kinds: +fruits, wines, oils, silks, stuffs, velvets, and every manner of +merchandise. Taking one of a great number of lively little boats +with gay-striped awnings, we rowed away, under the sterns of great +ships, under tow-ropes and cables, against and among other boats, +and very much too near the sides of vessels that were faint with +oranges, to the Marie Antoinette, a handsome steamer bound for +Genoa, lying near the mouth of the harbour. By-and-by, the +carriage, that unwieldy 'trifle from the Pantechnicon,' on a flat +barge, bumping against everything, and giving occasion for a +prodigious quantity of oaths and grimaces, came stupidly alongside; +and by five o'clock we were steaming out in the open sea. The +vessel was beautifully clean; the meals were served under an awning +on deck; the night was calm and clear; the quiet beauty of the sea +and sky unspeakable. + +We were off Nice, early next morning, and coasted along, within a +few miles of the Cornice road (of which more in its place) nearly +all day. We could see Genoa before three; and watching it as it +gradually developed its splendid amphitheatre, terrace rising above +terrace, garden above garden, palace above palace, height upon +height, was ample occupation for us, till we ran into the stately +harbour. Having been duly astonished, here, by the sight of a few +Cappucini monks, who were watching the fair-weighing of some wood +upon the wharf, we drove off to Albaro, two miles distant, where we +had engaged a house. + +The way lay through the main streets, but not through the Strada +Nuova, or the Strada Balbi, which are the famous streets of +palaces. I never in my life was so dismayed! The wonderful +novelty of everything, the unusual smells, the unaccountable filth +(though it is reckoned the cleanest of Italian towns), the +disorderly jumbling of dirty houses, one upon the roof of another; +the passages more squalid and more close than any in St. Giles's or +old Paris; in and out of which, not vagabonds, but well-dressed +women, with white veils and great fans, were passing and repassing; +the perfect absence of resemblance in any dwelling-house, or shop, +or wall, or post, or pillar, to anything one had ever seen before; +and the disheartening dirt, discomfort, and decay; perfectly +confounded me. I fell into a dismal reverie. I am conscious of a +feverish and bewildered vision of saints and virgins' shrines at +the street corners--of great numbers of friars, monks, and +soldiers--of vast red curtains, waving in the doorways of the +churches--of always going up hill, and yet seeing every other +street and passage going higher up--of fruit-stalls, with fresh +lemons and oranges hanging in garlands made of vine-leaves--of a +guard-house, and a drawbridge--and some gateways--and vendors of +iced water, sitting with little trays upon the margin of the +kennel--and this is all the consciousness I had, until I was set +down in a rank, dull, weedy court-yard, attached to a kind of pink +jail; and was told I lived there. + +I little thought, that day, that I should ever come to have an +attachment for the very stones in the streets of Genoa, and to look +back upon the city with affection as connected with many hours of +happiness and quiet! But these are my first impressions honestly +set down; and how they changed, I will set down too. At present, +let us breathe after this long-winded journey. + + + +CHAPTER IV--GENOA AND ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD + + + +The first impressions of such a place as ALBARO, the suburb of +Genoa, where I am now, as my American friends would say, 'located,' +can hardly fail, I should imagine, to be mournful and +disappointing. It requires a little time and use to overcome the +feeling of depression consequent, at first, on so much ruin and +neglect. Novelty, pleasant to most people, is particularly +delightful, I think, to me. I am not easily dispirited when I have +the means of pursuing my own fancies and occupations; and I believe +I have some natural aptitude for accommodating myself to +circumstances. But, as yet, I stroll about here, in all the holes +and corners of the neighbourhood, in a perpetual state of forlorn +surprise; and returning to my villa: the Villa Bagnerello (it +sounds romantic, but Signor Bagnerello is a butcher hard by): have +sufficient occupation in pondering over my new experiences, and +comparing them, very much to my own amusement, with my +expectations, until I wander out again. + +The Villa Bagnerello: or the Pink Jail, a far more expressive name +for the mansion: is in one of the most splendid situations +imaginable. The noble bay of Genoa, with the deep blue +Mediterranean, lies stretched out near at hand; monstrous old +desolate houses and palaces are dotted all about; lofty hills, with +their tops often hidden in the clouds, and with strong forts +perched high up on their craggy sides, are close upon the left; and +in front, stretching from the walls of the house, down to a ruined +chapel which stands upon the bold and picturesque rocks on the sea- +shore, are green vineyards, where you may wander all day long in +partial shade, through interminable vistas of grapes, trained on a +rough trellis-work across the narrow paths. + +This sequestered spot is approached by lanes so very narrow, that +when we arrived at the Custom-house, we found the people here had +TAKEN THE MEASURE of the narrowest among them, and were waiting to +apply it to the carriage; which ceremony was gravely performed in +the street, while we all stood by in breathless suspense. It was +found to be a very tight fit, but just a possibility, and no more-- +as I am reminded every day, by the sight of various large holes +which it punched in the walls on either side as it came along. We +are more fortunate, I am told, than an old lady, who took a house +in these parts not long ago, and who stuck fast in HER carriage in +a lane; and as it was impossible to open one of the doors, she was +obliged to submit to the indignity of being hauled through one of +the little front windows, like a harlequin. + +When you have got through these narrow lanes, you come to an +archway, imperfectly stopped up by a rusty old gate--my gate. The +rusty old gate has a bell to correspond, which you ring as long as +you like, and which nobody answers, as it has no connection +whatever with the house. But there is a rusty old knocker, too-- +very loose, so that it slides round when you touch it--and if you +learn the trick of it, and knock long enough, somebody comes. The +brave Courier comes, and gives you admittance. You walk into a +seedy little garden, all wild and weedy, from which the vineyard +opens; cross it, enter a square hall like a cellar, walk up a +cracked marble staircase, and pass into a most enormous room with a +vaulted roof and whitewashed walls: not unlike a great Methodist +chapel. This is the sala. It has five windows and five doors, and +is decorated with pictures which would gladden the heart of one of +those picture-cleaners in London who hang up, as a sign, a picture +divided, like death and the lady, at the top of the old ballad: +which always leaves you in a state of uncertainty whether the +ingenious professor has cleaned one half, or dirtied the other. +The furniture of this sala is a sort of red brocade. All the +chairs are immovable, and the sofa weighs several tons. + +On the same floor, and opening out of this same chamber, are +dining-room, drawing-room, and divers bedrooms: each with a +multiplicity of doors and windows. Up-stairs are divers other +gaunt chambers, and a kitchen; and down-stairs is another kitchen, +which, with all sorts of strange contrivances for burning charcoal, +looks like an alchemical laboratory. There are also some half- +dozen small sitting-rooms, where the servants in this hot July, may +escape from the heat of the fire, and where the brave Courier plays +all sorts of musical instruments of his own manufacture, all the +evening long. A mighty old, wandering, ghostly, echoing, grim, +bare house it is, as ever I beheld or thought of. + +There is a little vine-covered terrace, opening from the drawing- +room; and under this terrace, and forming one side of the little +garden, is what used to be the stable. It is now a cow-house, and +has three cows in it, so that we get new milk by the bucketful. +There is no pasturage near, and they never go out, but are +constantly lying down, and surfeiting themselves with vine-leaves-- +perfect Italian cows enjoying the dolce far' niente all day long. +They are presided over, and slept with, by an old man named +Antonio, and his son; two burnt-sienna natives with naked legs and +feet, who wear, each, a shirt, a pair of trousers, and a red sash, +with a relic, or some sacred charm like the bonbon off a twelfth- +cake, hanging round the neck. The old man is very anxious to +convert me to the Catholic faith, and exhorts me frequently. We +sit upon a stone by the door, sometimes in the evening, like +Robinson Crusoe and Friday reversed; and he generally relates, +towards my conversion, an abridgment of the History of Saint Peter- +-chiefly, I believe, from the unspeakable delight he has in his +imitation of the cock. + +The view, as I have said, is charming; but in the day you must keep +the lattice-blinds close shut, or the sun would drive you mad; and +when the sun goes down you must shut up all the windows, or the +mosquitoes would tempt you to commit suicide. So at this time of +the year, you don't see much of the prospect within doors. As for +the flies, you don't mind them. Nor the fleas, whose size is +prodigious, and whose name is Legion, and who populate the coach- +house to that extent that I daily expect to see the carriage going +off bodily, drawn by myriads of industrious fleas in harness. The +rats are kept away, quite comfortably, by scores of lean cats, who +roam about the garden for that purpose. The lizards, of course, +nobody cares for; they play in the sun, and don't bite. The little +scorpions are merely curious. The beetles are rather late, and +have not appeared yet. The frogs are company. There is a preserve +of them in the grounds of the next villa; and after nightfall, one +would think that scores upon scores of women in pattens were going +up and down a wet stone pavement without a moment's cessation. +That is exactly the noise they make. + +The ruined chapel, on the picturesque and beautiful sea-shore, was +dedicated, once upon a time, to Saint John the Baptist. I believe +there is a legend that Saint John's bones were received there, with +various solemnities, when they were first brought to Genoa; for +Genoa possesses them to this day. When there is any uncommon +tempest at sea, they are brought out and exhibited to the raging +weather, which they never fail to calm. In consequence of this +connection of Saint John with the city, great numbers of the common +people are christened Giovanni Baptista, which latter name is +pronounced in the Genoese patois 'Batcheetcha,' like a sneeze. To +hear everybody calling everybody else Batcheetcha, on a Sunday, or +festa-day, when there are crowds in the streets, is not a little +singular and amusing to a stranger. + +The narrow lanes have great villas opening into them, whose walls +(outside walls, I mean) are profusely painted with all sorts of +subjects, grim and holy. But time and the sea-air have nearly +obliterated them; and they look like the entrance to Vauxhall +Gardens on a sunny day. The court-yards of these houses are +overgrown with grass and weeds; all sorts of hideous patches cover +the bases of the statues, as if they were afflicted with a +cutaneous disorder; the outer gates are rusty; and the iron bars +outside the lower windows are all tumbling down. Firewood is kept +in halls where costly treasures might be heaped up, mountains high; +waterfalls are dry and choked; fountains, too dull to play, and too +lazy to work, have just enough recollection of their identity, in +their sleep, to make the neighbourhood damp; and the sirocco wind +is often blowing over all these things for days together, like a +gigantic oven out for a holiday. + +Not long ago, there was a festa-day, in honour of the VIRGIN'S +MOTHER, when the young men of the neighbourhood, having worn green +wreaths of the vine in some procession or other, bathed in them, by +scores. It looked very odd and pretty. Though I am bound to +confess (not knowing of the festa at that time), that I thought, +and was quite satisfied, they wore them as horses do--to keep the +flies off. + +Soon afterwards, there was another festa-day, in honour of St. +Nazaro. One of the Albaro young men brought two large bouquets +soon after breakfast, and coming up-stairs into the great sala, +presented them himself. This was a polite way of begging for a +contribution towards the expenses of some music in the Saint's +honour, so we gave him whatever it may have been, and his messenger +departed: well satisfied. At six o'clock in the evening we went +to the church--close at hand--a very gaudy place, hung all over +with festoons and bright draperies, and filled, from the altar to +the main door, with women, all seated. They wear no bonnets here, +simply a long white veil--the 'mezzero;' and it was the most gauzy, +ethereal-looking audience I ever saw. The young women are not +generally pretty, but they walk remarkably well, and in their +personal carriage and the management of their veils, display much +innate grace and elegance. There were some men present: not very +many: and a few of these were kneeling about the aisles, while +everybody else tumbled over them. Innumerable tapers were burning +in the church; the bits of silver and tin about the saints +(especially in the Virgin's necklace) sparkled brilliantly; the +priests were seated about the chief altar; the organ played away, +lustily, and a full band did the like; while a conductor, in a +little gallery opposite to the band, hammered away on the desk +before him, with a scroll; and a tenor, without any voice, sang. +The band played one way, the organ played another, the singer went +a third, and the unfortunate conductor banged and banged, and +flourished his scroll on some principle of his own: apparently +well satisfied with the whole performance. I never did hear such a +discordant din. The heat was intense all the time. + +The men, in red caps, and with loose coats hanging on their +shoulders (they never put them on), were playing bowls, and buying +sweetmeats, immediately outside the church. When half-a-dozen of +them finished a game, they came into the aisle, crossed themselves +with the holy water, knelt on one knee for an instant, and walked +off again to play another game at bowls. They are remarkably +expert at this diversion, and will play in the stony lanes and +streets, and on the most uneven and disastrous ground for such a +purpose, with as much nicety as on a billiard-table. But the most +favourite game is the national one of Mora, which they pursue with +surprising ardour, and at which they will stake everything they +possess. It is a destructive kind of gambling, requiring no +accessories but the ten fingers, which are always--I intend no pun- +-at hand. Two men play together. One calls a number--say the +extreme one, ten. He marks what portion of it he pleases by +throwing out three, or four, or five fingers; and his adversary +has, in the same instant, at hazard, and without seeing his hand, +to throw out as many fingers, as will make the exact balance. +Their eyes and hands become so used to this, and act with such +astonishing rapidity, that an uninitiated bystander would find it +very difficult, if not impossible, to follow the progress of the +game. The initiated, however, of whom there is always an eager +group looking on, devour it with the most intense avidity; and as +they are always ready to champion one side or the other in case of +a dispute, and are frequently divided in their partisanship, it is +often a very noisy proceeding. It is never the quietest game in +the world; for the numbers are always called in a loud sharp voice, +and follow as close upon each other as they can be counted. On a +holiday evening, standing at a window, or walking in a garden, or +passing through the streets, or sauntering in any quiet place about +the town, you will hear this game in progress in a score of wine- +shops at once; and looking over any vineyard walk, or turning +almost any corner, will come upon a knot of players in full cry. +It is observable that most men have a propensity to throw out some +particular number oftener than another; and the vigilance with +which two sharp-eyed players will mutually endeavour to detect this +weakness, and adapt their game to it, is very curious and +entertaining. The effect is greatly heightened by the universal +suddenness and vehemence of gesture; two men playing for half a +farthing with an intensity as all-absorbing as if the stake were +life. + +Hard by here is a large Palazzo, formerly belonging to some member +of the Brignole family, but just now hired by a school of Jesuits +for their summer quarters. I walked into its dismantled precincts +the other evening about sunset, and couldn't help pacing up and +down for a little time, drowsily taking in the aspect of the place: +which is repeated hereabouts in all directions. + +I loitered to and fro, under a colonnade, forming two sides of a +weedy, grass-grown court-yard, whereof the house formed a third +side, and a low terrace-walk, overlooking the garden and the +neighbouring hills, the fourth. I don't believe there was an +uncracked stone in the whole pavement. In the centre was a +melancholy statue, so piebald in its decay, that it looked exactly +as if it had been covered with sticking-plaster, and afterwards +powdered. The stables, coach-houses, offices, were all empty, all +ruinous, all utterly deserted. + +Doors had lost their hinges, and were holding on by their latches; +windows were broken, painted plaster had peeled off, and was lying +about in clods; fowls and cats had so taken possession of the out- +buildings, that I couldn't help thinking of the fairy tales, and +eyeing them with suspicion, as transformed retainers, waiting to be +changed back again. One old Tom in particular: a scraggy brute, +with a hungry green eye (a poor relation, in reality, I am inclined +to think): came prowling round and round me, as if he half +believed, for the moment, that I might be the hero come to marry +the lady, and set all to-rights; but discovering his mistake, he +suddenly gave a grim snarl, and walked away with such a tremendous +tail, that he couldn't get into the little hole where he lived, but +was obliged to wait outside, until his indignation and his tail had +gone down together. + +In a sort of summer-house, or whatever it may be, in this +colonnade, some Englishmen had been living, like grubs in a nut; +but the Jesuits had given them notice to go, and they had gone, and +THAT was shut up too. The house: a wandering, echoing, thundering +barrack of a place, with the lower windows barred up, as usual, was +wide open at the door: and I have no doubt I might have gone in, +and gone to bed, and gone dead, and nobody a bit the wiser. Only +one suite of rooms on an upper floor was tenanted; and from one of +these, the voice of a young-lady vocalist, practising bravura +lustily, came flaunting out upon the silent evening. + +I went down into the garden, intended to be prim and quaint, with +avenues, and terraces, and orange-trees, and statues, and water in +stone basins; and everything was green, gaunt, weedy, straggling, +under grown or over grown, mildewy, damp, redolent of all sorts of +slabby, clammy, creeping, and uncomfortable life. There was +nothing bright in the whole scene but a firefly--one solitary +firefly--showing against the dark bushes like the last little speck +of the departed Glory of the house; and even it went flitting up +and down at sudden angles, and leaving a place with a jerk, and +describing an irregular circle, and returning to the same place +with a twitch that startled one: as if it were looking for the +rest of the Glory, and wondering (Heaven knows it might!) what had +become of it. + + +In the course of two months, the flitting shapes and shadows of my +dismal entering reverie gradually resolved themselves into familiar +forms and substances; and I already began to think that when the +time should come, a year hence, for closing the long holiday and +turning back to England, I might part from Genoa with anything but +a glad heart. + +It is a place that 'grows upon you' every day. There seems to be +always something to find out in it. There are the most +extraordinary alleys and by-ways to walk about in. You can lose +your way (what a comfort that is, when you are idle!) twenty times +a day, if you like; and turn up again, under the most unexpected +and surprising difficulties. It abounds in the strangest +contrasts; things that are picturesque, ugly, mean, magnificent, +delightful, and offensive, break upon the view at every turn. + +They who would know how beautiful the country immediately +surrounding Genoa is, should climb (in clear weather) to the top of +Monte Faccio, or, at least, ride round the city walls: a feat more +easily performed. No prospect can be more diversified and lovely +than the changing views of the harbour, and the valleys of the two +rivers, the Polcevera and the Bizagno, from the heights along which +the strongly fortified walls are carried, like the great wall of +China in little. In not the least picturesque part of this ride, +there is a fair specimen of a real Genoese tavern, where the +visitor may derive good entertainment from real Genoese dishes, +such as Tagliarini; Ravioli; German sausages, strong of garlic, +sliced and eaten with fresh green figs; cocks' combs and sheep- +kidneys, chopped up with mutton chops and liver; small pieces of +some unknown part of a calf, twisted into small shreds, fried, and +served up in a great dish like white-bait; and other curiosities of +that kind. They often get wine at these suburban Trattorie, from +France and Spain and Portugal, which is brought over by small +captains in little trading-vessels. They buy it at so much a +bottle, without asking what it is, or caring to remember if anybody +tells them, and usually divide it into two heaps; of which they +label one Champagne, and the other Madeira. The various opposite +flavours, qualities, countries, ages, and vintages that are +comprised under these two general heads is quite extraordinary. +The most limited range is probably from cool Gruel up to old +Marsala, and down again to apple Tea. + +The great majority of the streets are as narrow as any thoroughfare +can well be, where people (even Italian people) are supposed to +live and walk about; being mere lanes, with here and there a kind +of well, or breathing-place. The houses are immensely high, +painted in all sorts of colours, and are in every stage and state +of damage, dirt, and lack of repair. They are commonly let off in +floors, or flats, like the houses in the old town of Edinburgh, or +many houses in Paris. There are few street doors; the entrance +halls are, for the most part, looked upon as public property; and +any moderately enterprising scavenger might make a fine fortune by +now and then clearing them out. As it is impossible for coaches to +penetrate into these streets, there are sedan chairs, gilded and +otherwise, for hire in divers places. A great many private chairs +are also kept among the nobility and gentry; and at night these are +trotted to and fro in all directions, preceded by bearers of great +lanthorns, made of linen stretched upon a frame. The sedans and +lanthorns are the legitimate successors of the long strings of +patient and much-abused mules, that go jingling their little bells +through these confined streets all day long. They follow them, as +regularly as the stars the sun. + +When shall I forget the Streets of Palaces: the Strada Nuova and +the Strada Balbi! or how the former looked one summer day, when I +first saw it underneath the brightest and most intensely blue of +summer skies: which its narrow perspective of immense mansions, +reduced to a tapering and most precious strip of brightness, +looking down upon the heavy shade below! A brightness not too +common, even in July and August, to be well esteemed: for, if the +Truth must out, there were not eight blue skies in as many +midsummer weeks, saving, sometimes, early in the morning; when, +looking out to sea, the water and the firmament were one world of +deep and brilliant blue. At other times, there were clouds and +haze enough to make an Englishman grumble in his own climate. + +The endless details of these rich Palaces: the walls of some of +them, within, alive with masterpieces by Vandyke! The great, +heavy, stone balconies, one above another, and tier over tier: +with here and there, one larger than the rest, towering high up--a +huge marble platform; the doorless vestibules, massively barred +lower windows, immense public staircases, thick marble pillars, +strong dungeon-like arches, and dreary, dreaming, echoing vaulted +chambers: among which the eye wanders again, and again, and again, +as every palace is succeeded by another--the terrace gardens +between house and house, with green arches of the vine, and groves +of orange-trees, and blushing oleander in full bloom, twenty, +thirty, forty feet above the street--the painted halls, mouldering, +and blotting, and rotting in the damp corners, and still shining +out in beautiful colours and voluptuous designs, where the walls +are dry--the faded figures on the outsides of the houses, holding +wreaths, and crowns, and flying upward, and downward, and standing +in niches, and here and there looking fainter and more feeble than +elsewhere, by contrast with some fresh little Cupids, who on a more +recently decorated portion of the front, are stretching out what +seems to be the semblance of a blanket, but is, indeed, a sun-dial- +-the steep, steep, up-hill streets of small palaces (but very large +palaces for all that), with marble terraces looking down into close +by-ways--the magnificent and innumerable Churches; and the rapid +passage from a street of stately edifices, into a maze of the +vilest squalor, steaming with unwholesome stenches, and swarming +with half-naked children and whole worlds of dirty people--make up, +altogether, such a scene of wonder: so lively, and yet so dead: +so noisy, and yet so quiet: so obtrusive, and yet so shy and +lowering: so wide awake, and yet so fast asleep: that it is a +sort of intoxication to a stranger to walk on, and on, and on, and +look about him. A bewildering phantasmagoria, with all the +inconsistency of a dream, and all the pain and all the pleasure of +an extravagant reality! + +The different uses to which some of these Palaces are applied, all +at once, is characteristic. For instance, the English Banker (my +excellent and hospitable friend) has his office in a good-sized +Palazzo in the Strada Nuova. In the hall (every inch of which is +elaborately painted, but which is as dirty as a police-station in +London), a hook-nosed Saracen's Head with an immense quantity of +black hair (there is a man attached to it) sells walking-sticks. +On the other side of the doorway, a lady with a showy handkerchief +for head-dress (wife to the Saracen's Head, I believe) sells +articles of her own knitting; and sometimes flowers. A little +further in, two or three blind men occasionally beg. Sometimes, +they are visited by a man without legs, on a little go-cart, but +who has such a fresh-coloured, lively face, and such a respectable, +well-conditioned body, that he looks as if he had sunk into the +ground up to his middle, or had come, but partially, up a flight of +cellar-steps to speak to somebody. A little further in, a few men, +perhaps, lie asleep in the middle of the day; or they may be +chairmen waiting for their absent freight. If so, they have +brought their chairs in with them, and there THEY stand also. On +the left of the hall is a little room: a hatter's shop. On the +first floor, is the English bank. On the first floor also, is a +whole house, and a good large residence too. Heaven knows what +there may be above that; but when you are there, you have only just +begun to go up-stairs. And yet, coming down-stairs again, thinking +of this; and passing out at a great crazy door in the back of the +hall, instead of turning the other way, to get into the street +again; it bangs behind you, making the dismallest and most lonesome +echoes, and you stand in a yard (the yard of the same house) which +seems to have been unvisited by human foot, for a hundred years. +Not a sound disturbs its repose. Not a head, thrust out of any of +the grim, dark, jealous windows, within sight, makes the weeds in +the cracked pavement faint of heart, by suggesting the possibility +of there being hands to grub them up. Opposite to you, is a giant +figure carved in stone, reclining, with an urn, upon a lofty piece +of artificial rockwork; and out of the urn, dangles the fag end of +a leaden pipe, which, once upon a time, poured a small torrent down +the rocks. But the eye-sockets of the giant are not drier than +this channel is now. He seems to have given his urn, which is +nearly upside down, a final tilt; and after crying, like a +sepulchral child, 'All gone!' to have lapsed into a stony silence. + +In the streets of shops, the houses are much smaller, but of great +size notwithstanding, and extremely high. They are very dirty: +quite undrained, if my nose be at all reliable: and emit a +peculiar fragrance, like the smell of very bad cheese, kept in very +hot blankets. Notwithstanding the height of the houses, there +would seem to have been a lack of room in the City, for new houses +are thrust in everywhere. Wherever it has been possible to cram a +tumble-down tenement into a crack or corner, in it has gone. If +there be a nook or angle in the wall of a church, or a crevice in +any other dead wall, of any sort, there you are sure to find some +kind of habitation: looking as if it had grown there, like a +fungus. Against the Government House, against the old Senate +House, round about any large building, little shops stick so close, +like parasite vermin to the great carcase. And for all this, look +where you may: up steps, down steps, anywhere, everywhere: there +are irregular houses, receding, starting forward, tumbling down, +leaning against their neighbours, crippling themselves or their +friends by some means or other, until one, more irregular than the +rest, chokes up the way, and you can't see any further. + +One of the rottenest-looking parts of the town, I think, is down by +the landing-wharf: though it may be, that its being associated +with a great deal of rottenness on the evening of our arrival, has +stamped it deeper in my mind. Here, again, the houses are very +high, and are of an infinite variety of deformed shapes, and have +(as most of the houses have) something hanging out of a great many +windows, and wafting its frowsy fragrance on the breeze. +Sometimes, it is a curtain; sometimes, it is a carpet; sometimes, +it is a bed; sometimes, a whole line-full of clothes; but there is +almost always something. Before the basement of these houses, is +an arcade over the pavement: very massive, dark, and low, like an +old crypt. The stone, or plaster, of which it is made, has turned +quite black; and against every one of these black piles, all sorts +of filth and garbage seem to accumulate spontaneously. Beneath +some of the arches, the sellers of macaroni and polenta establish +their stalls, which are by no means inviting. The offal of a fish- +market, near at hand--that is to say, of a back lane, where people +sit upon the ground and on various old bulk-heads and sheds, and +sell fish when they have any to dispose of--and of a vegetable +market, constructed on the same principle--are contributed to the +decoration of this quarter; and as all the mercantile business is +transacted here, and it is crowded all day, it has a very decided +flavour about it. The Porto Franco, or Free Port (where goods +brought in from foreign countries pay no duty until they are sold +and taken out, as in a bonded warehouse in England), is down here +also; and two portentous officials, in cocked hats, stand at the +gate to search you if they choose, and to keep out Monks and +Ladies. For, Sanctity as well as Beauty has been known to yield to +the temptation of smuggling, and in the same way: that is to say, +by concealing the smuggled property beneath the loose folds of its +dress. So Sanctity and Beauty may, by no means, enter. + +The streets of Genoa would be all the better for the importation of +a few Priests of prepossessing appearance. Every fourth or fifth +man in the streets is a Priest or a Monk; and there is pretty sure +to be at least one itinerant ecclesiastic inside or outside every +hackney carriage on the neighbouring roads. I have no knowledge, +elsewhere, of more repulsive countenances than are to be found +among these gentry. If Nature's handwriting be at all legible, +greater varieties of sloth, deceit, and intellectual torpor, could +hardly be observed among any class of men in the world. + +MR. PEPYS once heard a clergyman assert in his sermon, in +illustration of his respect for the Priestly office, that if he +could meet a Priest and angel together, he would salute the Priest +first. I am rather of the opinion of PETRARCH, who, when his pupil +BOCCACCIO wrote to him in great tribulation, that he had been +visited and admonished for his writings by a Carthusian Friar who +claimed to be a messenger immediately commissioned by Heaven for +that purpose, replied, that for his own part, he would take the +liberty of testing the reality of the commission by personal +observation of the Messenger's face, eyes, forehead, behaviour, and +discourse. I cannot but believe myself, from similar observation, +that many unaccredited celestial messengers may be seen skulking +through the streets of Genoa, or droning away their lives in other +Italian towns. + +Perhaps the Cappuccini, though not a learned body, are, as an +order, the best friends of the people. They seem to mingle with +them more immediately, as their counsellors and comforters; and to +go among them more, when they are sick; and to pry less than some +other orders, into the secrets of families, for the purpose of +establishing a baleful ascendency over their weaker members; and to +be influenced by a less fierce desire to make converts, and once +made, to let them go to ruin, soul and body. They may be seen, in +their coarse dress, in all parts of the town at all times, and +begging in the markets early in the morning. The Jesuits too, +muster strong in the streets, and go slinking noiselessly about, in +pairs, like black cats. + +In some of the narrow passages, distinct trades congregate. There +is a street of jewellers, and there is a row of booksellers; but +even down in places where nobody ever can, or ever could, penetrate +in a carriage, there are mighty old palaces shut in among the +gloomiest and closest walls, and almost shut out from the sun. +Very few of the tradesmen have any idea of setting forth their +goods, or disposing them for show. If you, a stranger, want to buy +anything, you usually look round the shop till you see it; then +clutch it, if it be within reach, and inquire how much. Everything +is sold at the most unlikely place. If you want coffee, you go to +a sweetmeat shop; and if you want meat, you will probably find it +behind an old checked curtain, down half-a-dozen steps, in some +sequestered nook as hard to find as if the commodity were poison, +and Genoa's law were death to any that uttered it. + +Most of the apothecaries' shops are great lounging-places. Here, +grave men with sticks, sit down in the shade for hours together, +passing a meagre Genoa paper from hand to hand, and talking, +drowsily and sparingly, about the News. Two or three of these are +poor physicians, ready to proclaim themselves on an emergency, and +tear off with any messenger who may arrive. You may know them by +the way in which they stretch their necks to listen, when you +enter; and by the sigh with which they fall back again into their +dull corners, on finding that you only want medicine. Few people +lounge in the barbers' shops; though they are very numerous, as +hardly any man shaves himself. But the apothecary's has its group +of loungers, who sit back among the bottles, with their hands +folded over the tops of their sticks. So still and quiet, that +either you don't see them in the darkened shop, or mistake them--as +I did one ghostly man in bottle-green, one day, with a hat like a +stopper--for Horse Medicine. + +On a summer evening the Genoese are as fond of putting themselves, +as their ancestors were of putting houses, in every available inch +of space in and about the town. In all the lanes and alleys, and +up every little ascent, and on every dwarf wall, and on every +flight of steps, they cluster like bees. Meanwhile (and especially +on festa-days) the bells of the churches ring incessantly; not in +peals, or any known form of sound, but in a horrible, irregular, +jerking, dingle, dingle, dingle: with a sudden stop at every +fifteenth dingle or so, which is maddening. This performance is +usually achieved by a boy up in the steeple, who takes hold of the +clapper, or a little rope attached to it, and tries to dingle +louder than every other boy similarly employed. The noise is +supposed to be particularly obnoxious to Evil Spirits; but looking +up into the steeples, and seeing (and hearing) these young +Christians thus engaged, one might very naturally mistake them for +the Enemy. + +Festa-days, early in the autumn, are very numerous. All the shops +were shut up, twice within a week, for these holidays; and one +night, all the houses in the neighbourhood of a particular church +were illuminated, while the church itself was lighted, outside, +with torches; and a grove of blazing links was erected, in an open +space outside one of the city gates. This part of the ceremony is +prettier and more singular a little way in the country, where you +can trace the illuminated cottages all the way up a steep hill- +side; and where you pass festoons of tapers, wasting away in the +starlight night, before some lonely little house upon the road. + +On these days, they always dress the church of the saint in whose +honour the festa is holden, very gaily. Gold-embroidered festoons +of different colours, hang from the arches; the altar furniture is +set forth; and sometimes, even the lofty pillars are swathed from +top to bottom in tight-fitting draperies. The cathedral is +dedicated to St. Lorenzo. On St. Lorenzo's day, we went into it, +just as the sun was setting. Although these decorations are +usually in very indifferent taste, the effect, just then, was very +superb indeed. For the whole building was dressed in red; and the +sinking sun, streaming in, through a great red curtain in the chief +doorway, made all the gorgeousness its own. When the sun went +down, and it gradually grew quite dark inside, except for a few +twinkling tapers on the principal altar, and some small dangling +silver lamps, it was very mysterious and effective. But, sitting +in any of the churches towards evening, is like a mild dose of +opium. + +With the money collected at a festa, they usually pay for the +dressing of the church, and for the hiring of the band, and for the +tapers. If there be any left (which seldom happens, I believe), +the souls in Purgatory get the benefit of it. They are also +supposed to have the benefit of the exertions of certain small +boys, who shake money-boxes before some mysterious little buildings +like rural turnpikes, which (usually shut up close) fly open on +Red-letter days, and disclose an image and some flowers inside. + +Just without the city gate, on the Albara road, is a small house, +with an altar in it, and a stationary money-box: also for the +benefit of the souls in Purgatory. Still further to stimulate the +charitable, there is a monstrous painting on the plaster, on either +side of the grated door, representing a select party of souls, +frying. One of them has a grey moustache, and an elaborate head of +grey hair: as if he had been taken out of a hairdresser's window +and cast into the furnace. There he is: a most grotesque and +hideously comic old soul: for ever blistering in the real sun, and +melting in the mimic fire, for the gratification and improvement +(and the contributions) of the poor Genoese. + +They are not a very joyous people, and are seldom seen to dance on +their holidays: the staple places of entertainment among the +women, being the churches and the public walks. They are very +good-tempered, obliging, and industrious. Industry has not made +them clean, for their habitations are extremely filthy, and their +usual occupation on a fine Sunday morning, is to sit at their +doors, hunting in each other's heads. But their dwellings are so +close and confined that if those parts of the city had been beaten +down by Massena in the time of the terrible Blockade, it would have +at least occasioned one public benefit among many misfortunes. + +The Peasant Women, with naked feet and legs, are so constantly +washing clothes, in the public tanks, and in every stream and +ditch, that one cannot help wondering, in the midst of all this +dirt, who wears them when they are clean. The custom is to lay the +wet linen which is being operated upon, on a smooth stone, and +hammer away at it, with a flat wooden mallet. This they do, as +furiously as if they were revenging themselves on dress in general +for being connected with the Fall of Mankind. + +It is not unusual to see, lying on the edge of the tank at these +times, or on another flat stone, an unfortunate baby, tightly +swathed up, arms and legs and all, in an enormous quantity of +wrapper, so that it is unable to move a toe or finger. This custom +(which we often see represented in old pictures) is universal among +the common people. A child is left anywhere without the +possibility of crawling away, or is accidentally knocked off a +shelf, or tumbled out of bed, or is hung up to a hook now and then, +and left dangling like a doll at an English rag-shop, without the +least inconvenience to anybody. + +I was sitting, one Sunday, soon after my arrival, in the little +country church of San Martino, a couple of miles from the city, +while a baptism took place. I saw the priest, and an attendant +with a large taper, and a man, and a woman, and some others; but I +had no more idea, until the ceremony was all over, that it was a +baptism, or that the curious little stiff instrument, that was +passed from one to another, in the course of the ceremony, by the +handle--like a short poker--was a child, than I had that it was my +own christening. I borrowed the child afterwards, for a minute or +two (it was lying across the font then), and found it very red in +the face but perfectly quiet, and not to be bent on any terms. The +number of cripples in the streets, soon ceased to surprise me. + +There are plenty of Saints' and Virgin's Shrines, of course; +generally at the corners of streets. The favourite memento to the +Faithful, about Genoa, is a painting, representing a peasant on his +knees, with a spade and some other agricultural implements beside +him; and the Madonna, with the Infant Saviour in her arms, +appearing to him in a cloud. This is the legend of the Madonna +della Guardia: a chapel on a mountain within a few miles, which is +in high repute. It seems that this peasant lived all alone by +himself, tilling some land atop of the mountain, where, being a +devout man, he daily said his prayers to the Virgin in the open +air; for his hut was a very poor one. Upon a certain day, the +Virgin appeared to him, as in the picture, and said, 'Why do you +pray in the open air, and without a priest?' The peasant explained +because there was neither priest nor church at hand--a very +uncommon complaint indeed in Italy. 'I should wish, then,' said +the Celestial Visitor, 'to have a chapel built here, in which the +prayers of the Faithful may be offered up.' 'But, Santissima +Madonna,' said the peasant, 'I am a poor man; and chapels cannot be +built without money. They must be supported, too, Santissima; for +to have a chapel and not support it liberally, is a wickedness--a +deadly sin.' This sentiment gave great satisfaction to the +visitor. 'Go!' said she. 'There is such a village in the valley +on the left, and such another village in the valley on the right, +and such another village elsewhere, that will gladly contribute to +the building of a chapel. Go to them! Relate what you have seen; +and do not doubt that sufficient money will be forthcoming to erect +my chapel, or that it will, afterwards, be handsomely maintained.' +All of which (miraculously) turned out to be quite true. And in +proof of this prediction and revelation, there is the chapel of the +Madonna della Guardia, rich and flourishing at this day. + +The splendour and variety of the Genoese churches, can hardly be +exaggerated. The church of the Annunciata especially: built, like +many of the others, at the cost of one noble family, and now in +slow progress of repair: from the outer door to the utmost height +of the high cupola, is so elaborately painted and set in gold, that +it looks (as SIMOND describes it, in his charming book on Italy) +like a great enamelled snuff-box. Most of the richer churches +contain some beautiful pictures, or other embellishments of great +price, almost universally set, side by side, with sprawling +effigies of maudlin monks, and the veriest trash and tinsel ever +seen. + +It may be a consequence of the frequent direction of the popular +mind, and pocket, to the souls in Purgatory, but there is very +little tenderness for the BODIES of the dead here. For the very +poor, there are, immediately outside one angle of the walls, and +behind a jutting point of the fortification, near the sea, certain +common pits--one for every day in the year--which all remain closed +up, until the turn of each comes for its daily reception of dead +bodies. Among the troops in the town, there are usually some +Swiss: more or less. When any of these die, they are buried out +of a fund maintained by such of their countrymen as are resident in +Genoa. Their providing coffins for these men is matter of great +astonishment to the authorities. + +Certainly, the effect of this promiscuous and indecent splashing +down of dead people in so many wells, is bad. It surrounds Death +with revolting associations, that insensibly become connected with +those whom Death is approaching. Indifference and avoidance are +the natural result; and all the softening influences of the great +sorrow are harshly disturbed. + +There is a ceremony when an old Cavaliere or the like, expires, of +erecting a pile of benches in the cathedral, to represent his bier; +covering them over with a pall of black velvet; putting his hat and +sword on the top; making a little square of seats about the whole; +and sending out formal invitations to his friends and acquaintances +to come and sit there, and hear Mass: which is performed at the +principal Altar, decorated with an infinity of candles for that +purpose. + +When the better kind of people die, or are at the point of death, +their nearest relations generally walk off: retiring into the +country for a little change, and leaving the body to be disposed +of, without any superintendence from them. The procession is +usually formed, and the coffin borne, and the funeral conducted, by +a body of persons called a Confraternita, who, as a kind of +voluntary penance, undertake to perform these offices, in regular +rotation, for the dead; but who, mingling something of pride with +their humility, are dressed in a loose garment covering their whole +person, and wear a hood concealing the face; with breathing-holes +and apertures for the eyes. The effect of this costume is very +ghastly: especially in the case of a certain Blue Confraternita +belonging to Genoa, who, to say the least of them, are very ugly +customers, and who look--suddenly encountered in their pious +ministration in the streets--as if they were Ghoules or Demons, +bearing off the body for themselves. + +Although such a custom may be liable to the abuse attendant on many +Italian customs, of being recognised as a means of establishing a +current account with Heaven, on which to draw, too easily, for +future bad actions, or as an expiation for past misdeeds, it must +be admitted to be a good one, and a practical one, and one +involving unquestionably good works. A voluntary service like +this, is surely better than the imposed penance (not at all an +infrequent one) of giving so many licks to such and such a stone in +the pavement of the cathedral; or than a vow to the Madonna to wear +nothing but blue for a year or two. This is supposed to give great +delight above; blue being (as is well known) the Madonna's +favourite colour. Women who have devoted themselves to this act of +Faith, are very commonly seen walking in the streets. + +There are three theatres in the city, besides an old one now rarely +opened. The most important--the Carlo Felice: the opera-house of +Genoa--is a very splendid, commodious, and beautiful theatre. A +company of comedians were acting there, when we arrived: and soon +after their departure, a second-rate opera company came. The great +season is not until the carnival time--in the spring. Nothing +impressed me, so much, in my visits here (which were pretty +numerous) as the uncommonly hard and cruel character of the +audience, who resent the slightest defect, take nothing good- +humouredly, seem to be always lying in wait for an opportunity to +hiss, and spare the actresses as little as the actors. + +But, as there is nothing else of a public nature at which they are +allowed to express the least disapprobation, perhaps they are +resolved to make the most of this opportunity. + +There are a great number of Piedmontese officers too, who are +allowed the privilege of kicking their heels in the pit, for next +to nothing: gratuitous, or cheap accommodation for these gentlemen +being insisted on, by the Governor, in all public or semi-public +entertainments. They are lofty critics in consequence, and +infinitely more exacting than if they made the unhappy manager's +fortune. + +The TEATRO DIURNO, or Day Theatre, is a covered stage in the open +air, where the performances take place by daylight, in the cool of +the afternoon; commencing at four or five o'clock, and lasting, +some three hours. It is curious, sitting among the audience, to +have a fine view of the neighbouring hills and houses, and to see +the neighbours at their windows looking on, and to hear the bells +of the churches and convents ringing at most complete cross- +purposes with the scene. Beyond this, and the novelty of seeing a +play in the fresh pleasant air, with the darkening evening closing +in, there is nothing very exciting or characteristic in the +performances. The actors are indifferent; and though they +sometimes represent one of Goldoni's comedies, the staple of the +Drama is French. Anything like nationality is dangerous to +despotic governments, and Jesuit-beleaguered kings. + +The Theatre of Puppets, or Marionetti--a famous company from Milan- +-is, without any exception, the drollest exhibition I ever beheld +in my life. I never saw anything so exquisitely ridiculous. They +LOOK between four and five feet high, but are really much smaller; +for when a musician in the orchestra happens to put his hat on the +stage, it becomes alarmingly gigantic, and almost blots out an +actor. They usually play a comedy, and a ballet. The comic man in +the comedy I saw one summer night, is a waiter in an hotel. There +never was such a locomotive actor, since the world began. Great +pains are taken with him. He has extra joints in his legs: and a +practical eye, with which he winks at the pit, in a manner that is +absolutely insupportable to a stranger, but which the initiated +audience, mainly composed of the common people, receive (so they do +everything else) quite as a matter of course, and as if he were a +man. His spirits are prodigious. He continually shakes his legs, +and winks his eye. And there is a heavy father with grey hair, who +sits down on the regular conventional stage-bank, and blesses his +daughter in the regular conventional way, who is tremendous. No +one would suppose it possible that anything short of a real man +could be so tedious. It is the triumph of art. + +In the ballet, an Enchanter runs away with the Bride, in the very +hour of her nuptials, He brings her to his cave, and tries to +soothe her. They sit down on a sofa (the regular sofa! in the +regular place, O. P. Second Entrance!) and a procession of +musicians enters; one creature playing a drum, and knocking himself +off his legs at every blow. These failing to delight her, dancers +appear. Four first; then two; THE two; the flesh-coloured two. +The way in which they dance; the height to which they spring; the +impossible and inhuman extent to which they pirouette; the +revelation of their preposterous legs; the coming down with a +pause, on the very tips of their toes, when the music requires it; +the gentleman's retiring up, when it is the lady's turn; and the +lady's retiring up, when it is the gentleman's turn; the final +passion of a pas-de-deux; and the going off with a bound!--I shall +never see a real ballet, with a composed countenance again. + +I went, another night, to see these Puppets act a play called 'St. +Helena, or the Death of Napoleon.' It began by the disclosure of +Napoleon, with an immense head, seated on a sofa in his chamber at +St. Helena; to whom his valet entered with this obscure +announcement: + +'Sir Yew ud se on Low?' (the ow, as in cow). + +Sir Hudson (that you could have seen his regimentals!) was a +perfect mammoth of a man, to Napoleon; hideously ugly, with a +monstrously disproportionate face, and a great clump for the lower- +jaw, to express his tyrannical and obdurate nature. He began his +system of persecution, by calling his prisoner 'General +Buonaparte;' to which the latter replied, with the deepest tragedy, +'Sir Yew ud se on Low, call me not thus. Repeat that phrase and +leave me! I am Napoleon, Emperor of France!' Sir Yew ud se on, +nothing daunted, proceeded to entertain him with an ordinance of +the British Government, regulating the state he should preserve, +and the furniture of his rooms: and limiting his attendants to +four or five persons. 'Four or five for ME!' said Napoleon. 'Me! +One hundred thousand men were lately at my sole command; and this +English officer talks of four or five for ME!' Throughout the +piece, Napoleon (who talked very like the real Napoleon, and was, +for ever, having small soliloquies by himself) was very bitter on +'these English officers,' and 'these English soldiers;' to the +great satisfaction of the audience, who were perfectly delighted to +have Low bullied; and who, whenever Low said 'General Buonaparte' +(which he always did: always receiving the same correction), quite +execrated him. It would be hard to say why; for Italians have +little cause to sympathise with Napoleon, Heaven knows. + +There was no plot at all, except that a French officer, disguised +as an Englishman, came to propound a plan of escape; and being +discovered, but not before Napoleon had magnanimously refused to +steal his freedom, was immediately ordered off by Low to be hanged. +In two very long speeches, which Low made memorable, by winding up +with 'Yas!'--to show that he was English--which brought down +thunders of applause. Napoleon was so affected by this +catastrophe, that he fainted away on the spot, and was carried out +by two other puppets. Judging from what followed, it would appear +that he never recovered the shock; for the next act showed him, in +a clean shirt, in his bed (curtains crimson and white), where a +lady, prematurely dressed in mourning, brought two little children, +who kneeled down by the bedside, while he made a decent end; the +last word on his lips being 'Vatterlo.' + +It was unspeakably ludicrous. Buonaparte's boots were so +wonderfully beyond control, and did such marvellous things of their +own accord: doubling themselves up, and getting under tables, and +dangling in the air, and sometimes skating away with him, out of +all human knowledge, when he was in full speech--mischances which +were not rendered the less absurd, by a settled melancholy depicted +in his face. To put an end to one conference with Low, he had to +go to a table, and read a book: when it was the finest spectacle I +ever beheld, to see his body bending over the volume, like a boot- +jack, and his sentimental eyes glaring obstinately into the pit. +He was prodigiously good, in bed, with an immense collar to his +shirt, and his little hands outside the coverlet. So was Dr. +Antommarchi, represented by a puppet with long lank hair, like +Mawworm's, who, in consequence of some derangement of his wires, +hovered about the couch like a vulture, and gave medical opinions +in the air. He was almost as good as Low, though the latter was +great at all times--a decided brute and villain, beyond all +possibility of mistake. Low was especially fine at the last, when, +hearing the doctor and the valet say, 'The Emperor is dead!' he +pulled out his watch, and wound up the piece (not the watch) by +exclaiming, with characteristic brutality, 'Ha! ha! Eleven minutes +to six! The General dead! and the spy hanged!' This brought the +curtain down, triumphantly. + + +There is not in Italy, they say (and I believe them), a lovelier +residence than the Palazzo Peschiere, or Palace of the Fishponds, +whither we removed as soon as our three months' tenancy of the Pink +Jail at Albaro had ceased and determined. + +It stands on a height within the walls of Genoa, but aloof from the +town: surrounded by beautiful gardens of its own, adorned with +statues, vases, fountains, marble basins, terraces, walks of +orange-trees and lemon-trees, groves of roses and camellias. All +its apartments are beautiful in their proportions and decorations; +but the great hall, some fifty feet in height, with three large +windows at the end, overlooking the whole town of Genoa, the +harbour, and the neighbouring sea, affords one of the most +fascinating and delightful prospects in the world. Any house more +cheerful and habitable than the great rooms are, within, it would +be difficult to conceive; and certainly nothing more delicious than +the scene without, in sunshine or in moonlight, could be imagined. +It is more like an enchanted place in an Eastern story than a grave +and sober lodging. + +How you may wander on, from room to room, and never tire of the +wild fancies on the walls and ceilings, as bright in their fresh +colouring as if they had been painted yesterday; or how one floor, +or even the great hall which opens on eight other rooms, is a +spacious promenade; or how there are corridors and bed-chambers +above, which we never use and rarely visit, and scarcely know the +way through; or how there is a view of a perfectly different +character on each of the four sides of the building; matters +little. But that prospect from the hall is like a vision to me. I +go back to it, in fancy, as I have done in calm reality a hundred +times a day; and stand there, looking out, with the sweet scents +from the garden rising up about me, in a perfect dream of +happiness. + +There lies all Genoa, in beautiful confusion, with its many +churches, monasteries, and convents, pointing up into the sunny +sky; and down below me, just where the roofs begin, a solitary +convent parapet, fashioned like a gallery, with an iron across at +the end, where sometimes early in the morning, I have seen a little +group of dark-veiled nuns gliding sorrowfully to and fro, and +stopping now and then to peep down upon the waking world in which +they have no part. Old Monte Faccio, brightest of hills in good +weather, but sulkiest when storms are coming on, is here, upon the +left. The Fort within the walls (the good King built it to command +the town, and beat the houses of the Genoese about their ears, in +case they should be discontented) commands that height upon the +right. The broad sea lies beyond, in front there; and that line of +coast, beginning by the light-house, and tapering away, a mere +speck in the rosy distance, is the beautiful coast road that leads +to Nice. The garden near at hand, among the roofs and houses: all +red with roses and fresh with little fountains: is the Acqua Sola- +-a public promenade, where the military band plays gaily, and the +white veils cluster thick, and the Genoese nobility ride round, and +round, and round, in state-clothes and coaches at least, if not in +absolute wisdom. Within a stone's-throw, as it seems, the audience +of the Day Theatre sit: their faces turned this way. But as the +stage is hidden, it is very odd, without a knowledge of the cause, +to see their faces changed so suddenly from earnestness to +laughter; and odder still, to hear the rounds upon rounds of +applause, rattling in the evening air, to which the curtain falls. +But, being Sunday night, they act their best and most attractive +play. And now, the sun is going down, in such magnificent array of +red, and green, and golden light, as neither pen nor pencil could +depict; and to the ringing of the vesper bells, darkness sets in at +once, without a twilight. Then, lights begin to shine in Genoa, +and on the country road; and the revolving lanthorn out at sea +there, flashing, for an instant, on this palace front and portico, +illuminates it as if there were a bright moon bursting from behind +a cloud; then, merges it in deep obscurity. And this, so far as I +know, is the only reason why the Genoese avoid it after dark, and +think it haunted. + +My memory will haunt it, many nights, in time to come; but nothing +worse, I will engage. The same Ghost will occasionally sail away, +as I did one pleasant autumn evening, into the bright prospect, and +sniff the morning air at Marseilles. + +The corpulent hairdresser was still sitting in his slippers outside +his shop-door there, but the twirling ladies in the window, with +the natural inconstancy of their sex, had ceased to twirl, and were +languishing, stock still, with their beautiful faces addressed to +blind corners of the establishment, where it was impossible for +admirers to penetrate. + +The steamer had come from Genoa in a delicious run of eighteen +hours, and we were going to run back again by the Cornice road from +Nice: not being satisfied to have seen only the outsides of the +beautiful towns that rise in picturesque white clusters from among +the olive woods, and rocks, and hills, upon the margin of the Sea. + +The Boat which started for Nice that night, at eight o'clock, was +very small, and so crowded with goods that there was scarcely room +to move; neither was there anything to cat on board, except bread; +nor to drink, except coffee. But being due at Nice at about eight +or so in the morning, this was of no consequence; so when we began +to wink at the bright stars, in involuntary acknowledgment of their +winking at us, we turned into our berths, in a crowded, but cool +little cabin, and slept soundly till morning. + +The Boat, being as dull and dogged a little boat as ever was built, +it was within an hour of noon when we turned into Nice Harbour, +where we very little expected anything but breakfast. But we were +laden with wool. Wool must not remain in the Custom-house at +Marseilles more than twelve months at a stretch, without paying +duty. It is the custom to make fictitious removals of unsold wool +to evade this law; to take it somewhere when the twelve months are +nearly out; bring it straight back again; and warehouse it, as a +new cargo, for nearly twelve months longer. This wool of ours, had +come originally from some place in the East. It was recognised as +Eastern produce, the moment we entered the harbour. Accordingly, +the gay little Sunday boats, full of holiday people, which had come +off to greet us, were warned away by the authorities; we were +declared in quarantine; and a great flag was solemnly run up to the +mast-head on the wharf, to make it known to all the town. + +It was a very hot day indeed. We were unshaved, unwashed, +undressed, unfed, and could hardly enjoy the absurdity of lying +blistering in a lazy harbour, with the town looking on from a +respectful distance, all manner of whiskered men in cocked hats +discussing our fate at a remote guard-house, with gestures (we +looked very hard at them through telescopes) expressive of a week's +detention at least: and nothing whatever the matter all the time. +But even in this crisis the brave Courier achieved a triumph. He +telegraphed somebody (_I_ saw nobody) either naturally connected +with the hotel, or put en rapport with the establishment for that +occasion only. The telegraph was answered, and in half an hour or +less, there came a loud shout from the guard-house. The captain +was wanted. Everybody helped the captain into his boat. Everybody +got his luggage, and said we were going. The captain rowed away, +and disappeared behind a little jutting corner of the Galley- +slaves' Prison: and presently came back with something, very +sulkily. The brave Courier met him at the side, and received the +something as its rightful owner. It was a wicker basket, folded in +a linen cloth; and in it were two great bottles of wine, a roast +fowl, some salt fish chopped with garlic, a great loaf of bread, a +dozen or so of peaches, and a few other trifles. When we had +selected our own breakfast, the brave Courier invited a chosen +party to partake of these refreshments, and assured them that they +need not be deterred by motives of delicacy, as he would order a +second basket to be furnished at their expense. Which he did--no +one knew how--and by-and-by, the captain being again summoned, +again sulkily returned with another something; over which my +popular attendant presided as before: carving with a clasp-knife, +his own personal property, something smaller than a Roman sword. + +The whole party on board were made merry by these unexpected +supplies; but none more so than a loquacious little Frenchman, who +got drunk in five minutes, and a sturdy Cappuccino Friar, who had +taken everybody's fancy mightily, and was one of the best friars in +the world, I verily believe. + +He had a free, open countenance; and a rich brown, flowing beard; +and was a remarkably handsome man, of about fifty. He had come up +to us, early in the morning, and inquired whether we were sure to +be at Nice by eleven; saying that he particularly wanted to know, +because if we reached it by that time he would have to perform +Mass, and must deal with the consecrated wafer, fasting; whereas, +if there were no chance of his being in time, he would immediately +breakfast. He made this communication, under the idea that the +brave Courier was the captain; and indeed he looked much more like +it than anybody else on board. Being assured that we should arrive +in good time, he fasted, and talked, fasting, to everybody, with +the most charming good humour; answering jokes at the expense of +friars, with other jokes at the expense of laymen, and saying that, +friar as he was, he would engage to take up the two strongest men +on board, one after the other, with his teeth, and carry them along +the deck. Nobody gave him the opportunity, but I dare say he could +have done it; for he was a gallant, noble figure of a man, even in +the Cappuccino dress, which is the ugliest and most ungainly that +can well be. + +All this had given great delight to the loquacious Frenchman, who +gradually patronised the Friar very much, and seemed to commiserate +him as one who might have been born a Frenchman himself, but for an +unfortunate destiny. Although his patronage was such as a mouse +might bestow upon a lion, he had a vast opinion of its +condescension; and in the warmth of that sentiment, occasionally +rose on tiptoe, to slap the Friar on the back. + +When the baskets arrived: it being then too late for Mass: the +Friar went to work bravely: eating prodigiously of the cold meat +and bread, drinking deep draughts of the wine, smoking cigars, +taking snuff, sustaining an uninterrupted conversation with all +hands, and occasionally running to the boat's side and hailing +somebody on shore with the intelligence that we MUST be got out of +this quarantine somehow or other, as he had to take part in a great +religious procession in the afternoon. After this, he would come +back, laughing lustily from pure good humour: while the Frenchman +wrinkled his small face into ten thousand creases, and said how +droll it was, and what a brave boy was that Friar! At length the +heat of the sun without, and the wine within, made the Frenchman +sleepy. So, in the noontide of his patronage of his gigantic +protege, he lay down among the wool, and began to snore. + +It was four o'clock before we were released; and the Frenchman, +dirty and woolly, and snuffy, was still sleeping when the Friar +went ashore. As soon as we were free, we all hurried away, to wash +and dress, that we might make a decent appearance at the +procession; and I saw no more of the Frenchman until we took up our +station in the main street to see it pass, when he squeezed himself +into a front place, elaborately renovated; threw back his little +coat, to show a broad-barred velvet waistcoat, sprinkled all over +with stars; then adjusted himself and his cane so as utterly to +bewilder and transfix the Friar, when he should appear. + +The procession was a very long one, and included an immense number +of people divided into small parties; each party chanting nasally, +on its own account, without reference to any other, and producing a +most dismal result. There were angels, crosses, Virgins carried on +flat boards surrounded by Cupids, crowns, saints, missals, +infantry, tapers, monks, nuns, relics, dignitaries of the church in +green hats, walking under crimson parasols: and, here and there, a +species of sacred street-lamp hoisted on a pole. We looked out +anxiously for the Cappuccini, and presently their brown robes and +corded girdles were seen coming on, in a body. + +I observed the little Frenchman chuckle over the idea that when the +Friar saw him in the broad-barred waistcoat, he would mentally +exclaim, 'Is that my Patron! THAT distinguished man!' and would be +covered with confusion. Ah! never was the Frenchman so deceived. +As our friend the Cappuccino advanced, with folded arms, he looked +straight into the visage of the little Frenchman, with a bland, +serene, composed abstraction, not to be described. There was not +the faintest trace of recognition or amusement on his features; not +the smallest consciousness of bread and meat, wine, snuff, or +cigars. 'C'est lui-meme,' I heard the little Frenchman say, in +some doubt. Oh yes, it was himself. It was not his brother or his +nephew, very like him. It was he. He walked in great state: +being one of the Superiors of the Order: and looked his part to +admiration. There never was anything so perfect of its kind as the +contemplative way in which he allowed his placid gaze to rest on +us, his late companions, as if he had never seen us in his life and +didn't see us then. The Frenchman, quite humbled, took off his hat +at last, but the Friar still passed on, with the same imperturbable +serenity; and the broad-barred waistcoat, fading into the crowd, +was seen no more. + +The procession wound up with a discharge of musketry that shook all +the windows in the town. Next afternoon we started for Genoa, by +the famed Cornice road. + +The half-French, half-Italian Vetturino, who undertook, with his +little rattling carriage and pair, to convey us thither in three +days, was a careless, good-looking fellow, whose light-heartedness +and singing propensities knew no bounds as long as we went on +smoothly. So long, he had a word and a smile, and a flick of his +whip, for all the peasant girls, and odds and ends of the +Sonnambula for all the echoes. So long, he went jingling through +every little village, with bells on his horses and rings in his +ears: a very meteor of gallantry and cheerfulness. But, it was +highly characteristic to see him under a slight reverse of +circumstances, when, in one part of the journey, we came to a +narrow place where a waggon had broken down and stopped up the +road. His hands were twined in his hair immediately, as if a +combination of all the direst accidents in life had suddenly fallen +on his devoted head. He swore in French, prayed in Italian, and +went up and down, beating his feet on the ground in a very ecstasy +of despair. There were various carters and mule-drivers assembled +round the broken waggon, and at last some man of an original turn +of mind, proposed that a general and joint effort should be made to +get things to-rights again, and clear the way--an idea which I +verily believe would never have presented itself to our friend, +though we had remained there until now. It was done at no great +cost of labour; but at every pause in the doing, his hands were +wound in his hair again, as if there were no ray of hope to lighten +his misery. The moment he was on his box once more, and clattering +briskly down hill, he returned to the Sonnambula and the peasant +girls, as if it were not in the power of misfortune to depress him. + +Much of the romance of the beautiful towns and villages on this +beautiful road, disappears when they are entered, for many of them +are very miserable. The streets are narrow, dark, and dirty; the +inhabitants lean and squalid; and the withered old women, with +their wiry grey hair twisted up into a knot on the top of the head, +like a pad to carry loads on, are so intensely ugly, both along the +Riviera, and in Genoa, too, that, seen straggling about in dim +doorways with their spindles, or crooning together in by-corners, +they are like a population of Witches--except that they certainly +are not to be suspected of brooms or any other instrument of +cleanliness. Neither are the pig-skins, in common use to hold +wine, and hung out in the sun in all directions, by any means +ornamental, as they always preserve the form of very bloated pigs, +with their heads and legs cut off, dangling upside-down by their +own tails. + +These towns, as they are seen in the approach, however: nestling, +with their clustering roofs and towers, among trees on steep hill- +sides, or built upon the brink of noble bays: are charming. The +vegetation is, everywhere, luxuriant and beautiful, and the Palm- +tree makes a novel feature in the novel scenery. In one town, San +Remo--a most extraordinary place, built on gloomy open arches, so +that one might ramble underneath the whole town--there are pretty +terrace gardens; in other towns, there is the clang of shipwrights' +hammers, and the building of small vessels on the beach. In some +of the broad bays, the fleets of Europe might ride at anchor. In +every case, each little group of houses presents, in the distance, +some enchanting confusion of picturesque and fanciful shapes. + +The road itself--now high above the glittering sea, which breaks +against the foot of the precipice: now turning inland to sweep the +shore of a bay: now crossing the stony bed of a mountain stream: +now low down on the beach: now winding among riven rocks of many +forms and colours: now chequered by a solitary ruined tower, one +of a chain of towers built, in old time, to protect the coast from +the invasions of the Barbary Corsairs--presents new beauties every +moment. When its own striking scenery is passed, and it trails on +through a long line of suburb, lying on the flat sea-shore, to +Genoa, then, the changing glimpses of that noble city and its +harbour, awaken a new source of interest; freshened by every huge, +unwieldy, half-inhabited old house in its outskirts: and coming to +its climax when the city gate is reached, and all Genoa with its +beautiful harbour, and neighbouring hills, bursts proudly on the +view. + + + +CHAPTER V--TO PARMA, MODENA, AND BOLOGNA + + + +I strolled away from Genoa on the 6th of November, bound for a good +many places (England among them), but first for Piacenza; for which +town I started in the coupe of a machine something like a +travelling caravan, in company with the brave Courier, and a lady +with a large dog, who howled dolefully, at intervals, all night. +It was very wet, and very cold; very dark, and very dismal; we +travelled at the rate of barely four miles an hour, and stopped +nowhere for refreshment. At ten o'clock next morning, we changed +coaches at Alessandria, where we were packed up in another coach +(the body whereof would have been small for a fly), in company with +a very old priest; a young Jesuit, his companion--who carried their +breviaries and other books, and who, in the exertion of getting +into the coach, had made a gash of pink leg between his black +stocking and his black knee-shorts, that reminded one of Hamlet in +Ophelia's closet, only it was visible on both legs--a provincial +Avvocato; and a gentleman with a red nose that had an uncommon and +singular sheen upon it, which I never observed in the human subject +before. In this way we travelled on, until four o'clock in the +afternoon; the roads being still very heavy, and the coach very +slow. To mend the matter, the old priest was troubled with cramps +in his legs, so that he had to give a terrible yell every ten +minutes or so, and be hoisted out by the united efforts of the +company; the coach always stopping for him, with great gravity. +This disorder, and the roads, formed the main subject of +conversation. Finding, in the afternoon, that the coupe had +discharged two people, and had only one passenger inside--a +monstrous ugly Tuscan, with a great purple moustache, of which no +man could see the ends when he had his hat on--I took advantage of +its better accommodation, and in company with this gentleman (who +was very conversational and good-humoured) travelled on, until +nearly eleven o'clock at night, when the driver reported that he +couldn't think of going any farther, and we accordingly made a halt +at a place called Stradella. + +The inn was a series of strange galleries surrounding a yard where +our coach, and a waggon or two, and a lot of fowls, and firewood, +were all heaped up together, higgledy-piggledy; so that you didn't +know, and couldn't have taken your oath, which was a fowl and which +was a cart. We followed a sleepy man with a flaring torch, into a +great, cold room, where there were two immensely broad beds, on +what looked like two immensely broad deal dining-tables; another +deal table of similar dimensions in the middle of the bare floor; +four windows; and two chairs. Somebody said it was my room; and I +walked up and down it, for half an hour or so, staring at the +Tuscan, the old priest, the young priest, and the Avvocato (Red- +Nose lived in the town, and had gone home), who sat upon their +beds, and stared at me in return. + +The rather dreary whimsicality of this stage of the proceedings, is +interrupted by an announcement from the Brave (he had been cooking) +that supper is ready; and to the priest's chamber (the next room +and the counterpart of mine) we all adjourn. The first dish is a +cabbage, boiled with a great quantity of rice in a tureen full of +water, and flavoured with cheese. It is so hot, and we are so +cold, that it appears almost jolly. The second dish is some little +bits of pork, fried with pigs' kidneys. The third, two red fowls. +The fourth, two little red turkeys. The fifth, a huge stew of +garlic and truffles, and I don't know what else; and this concludes +the entertainment. + +Before I can sit down in my own chamber, and think it of the +dampest, the door opens, and the Brave comes moving in, in the +middle of such a quantity of fuel that he looks like Birnam Wood +taking a winter walk. He kindles this heap in a twinkling, and +produces a jorum of hot brandy and water; for that bottle of his +keeps company with the seasons, and now holds nothing but the +purest eau de vie. When he has accomplished this feat, he retires +for the night; and I hear him, for an hour afterwards, and indeed +until I fall asleep, making jokes in some outhouse (apparently +under the pillow), where he is smoking cigars with a party of +confidential friends. He never was in the house in his life +before; but he knows everybody everywhere, before he has been +anywhere five minutes; and is certain to have attracted to himself, +in the meantime, the enthusiastic devotion of the whole +establishment. + +This is at twelve o'clock at night. At four o'clock next morning, +he is up again, fresher than a full-blown rose; making blazing +fires without the least authority from the landlord; producing mugs +of scalding coffee when nobody else can get anything but cold +water; and going out into the dark streets, and roaring for fresh +milk, on the chance of somebody with a cow getting up to supply it. +While the horses are 'coming,' I stumble out into the town too. It +seems to be all one little Piazza, with a cold damp wind blowing in +and out of the arches, alternately, in a sort of pattern. But it +is profoundly dark, and raining heavily; and I shouldn't know it +to-morrow, if I were taken there to try. Which Heaven forbid. + +The horses arrive in about an hour. In the interval, the driver +swears; sometimes Christian oaths, sometimes Pagan oaths. +Sometimes, when it is a long, compound oath, he begins with +Christianity and merges into Paganism. Various messengers are +despatched; not so much after the horses, as after each other; for +the first messenger never comes back, and all the rest imitate him. +At length the horses appear, surrounded by all the messengers; some +kicking them, and some dragging them, and all shouting abuse to +them. Then, the old priest, the young priest, the Avvocato, the +Tuscan, and all of us, take our places; and sleepy voices +proceeding from the doors of extraordinary hutches in divers parts +of the yard, cry out 'Addio corriere mio! Buon' viaggio, +corriere!' Salutations which the courier, with his face one +monstrous grin, returns in like manner as we go jolting and +wallowing away, through the mud. + +At Piacenza, which was four or five hours' journey from the inn at +Stradella, we broke up our little company before the hotel door, +with divers manifestations of friendly feeling on all sides. The +old priest was taken with the cramp again, before he had got half- +way down the street; and the young priest laid the bundle of books +on a door-step, while he dutifully rubbed the old gentleman's legs. +The client of the Avvocato was waiting for him at the yard-gate, +and kissed him on each cheek, with such a resounding smack, that I +am afraid he had either a very bad case, or a scantily-furnished +purse. The Tuscan, with a cigar in his mouth, went loitering off, +carrying his hat in his hand that he might the better trail up the +ends of his dishevelled moustache. And the brave Courier, as he +and I strolled away to look about us, began immediately to +entertain me with the private histories and family affairs of the +whole party. + +A brown, decayed, old town, Piacenza is. A deserted, solitary, +grass-grown place, with ruined ramparts; half filled-up trenches, +which afford a frowsy pasturage to the lean kine that wander about +them; and streets of stern houses, moodily frowning at the other +houses over the way. The sleepiest and shabbiest of soldiery go +wandering about, with the double curse of laziness and poverty, +uncouthly wrinkling their misfitting regimentals; the dirtiest of +children play with their impromptu toys (pigs and mud) in the +feeblest of gutters; and the gauntest of dogs trot in and out of +the dullest of archways, in perpetual search of something to eat, +which they never seem to find. A mysterious and solemn Palace, +guarded by two colossal statues, twin Genii of the place, stands +gravely in the midst of the idle town; and the king with the marble +legs, who flourished in the time of the thousand and one Nights, +might live contentedly inside of it, and never have the energy, in +his upper half of flesh and blood, to want to come out. + +What a strange, half-sorrowful and half-delicious doze it is, to +ramble through these places gone to sleep and basking in the sun! +Each, in its turn, appears to be, of all the mouldy, dreary, God- +forgotten towns in the wide world, the chief. Sitting on this +hillock where a bastion used to be, and where a noisy fortress was, +in the time of the old Roman station here, I became aware that I +have never known till now, what it is to be lazy. A dormouse must +surely be in very much the same condition before he retires under +the wool in his cage; or a tortoise before he buries himself. + +I feel that I am getting rusty. That any attempt to think, would +be accompanied with a creaking noise. That there is nothing, +anywhere, to be done, or needing to be done. That there is no more +human progress, motion, effort, or advancement, of any kind beyond +this. That the whole scheme stopped here centuries ago, and laid +down to rest until the Day of Judgment. + +Never while the brave Courier lives! Behold him jingling out of +Piacenza, and staggering this way, in the tallest posting-chaise +ever seen, so that he looks out of the front window as if he were +peeping over a garden wall; while the postilion, concentrated +essence of all the shabbiness of Italy, pauses for a moment in his +animated conversation, to touch his hat to a blunt-nosed little +Virgin, hardly less shabby than himself, enshrined in a plaster +Punch's show outside the town. + +In Genoa, and thereabouts, they train the vines on trellis-work, +supported on square clumsy pillars, which, in themselves, are +anything but picturesque. But, here, they twine them around trees, +and let them trail among the hedges; and the vineyards are full of +trees, regularly planted for this purpose, each with its own vine +twining and clustering about it. Their leaves are now of the +brightest gold and deepest red; and never was anything so +enchantingly graceful and full of beauty. Through miles of these +delightful forms and colours, the road winds its way. The wild +festoons, the elegant wreaths, and crowns, and garlands of all +shapes; the fairy nets flung over great trees, and making them +prisoners in sport; the tumbled heaps and mounds of exquisite +shapes upon the ground; how rich and beautiful they are! And every +now and then, a long, long line of trees, will be all bound and +garlanded together: as if they had taken hold of one another, and +were coming dancing down the field! + +Parma has cheerful, stirring streets, for an Italian town; and +consequently is not so characteristic as many places of less note. +Always excepting the retired Piazza, where the Cathedral, +Baptistery, and Campanile--ancient buildings, of a sombre brown, +embellished with innumerable grotesque monsters and dreamy-looking +creatures carved in marble and red stone--are clustered in a noble +and magnificent repose. Their silent presence was only invaded, +when I saw them, by the twittering of the many birds that were +flying in and out of the crevices in the stones and little nooks in +the architecture, where they had made their nests. They were busy, +rising from the cold shade of Temples made with hands, into the +sunny air of Heaven. Not so the worshippers within, who were +listening to the same drowsy chaunt, or kneeling before the same +kinds of images and tapers, or whispering, with their heads bowed +down, in the selfsame dark confessionals, as I had left in Genoa +and everywhere else. + +The decayed and mutilated paintings with which this church is +covered, have, to my thinking, a remarkably mournful and depressing +influence. It is miserable to see great works of art--something of +the Souls of Painters--perishing and fading away, like human forms. +This cathedral is odorous with the rotting of Correggio's frescoes +in the Cupola. Heaven knows how beautiful they may have been at +one time. Connoisseurs fall into raptures with them now; but such +a labyrinth of arms and legs: such heaps of foreshortened limbs, +entangled and involved and jumbled together: no operative surgeon, +gone mad, could imagine in his wildest delirium. + +There is a very interesting subterranean church here: the roof +supported by marble pillars, behind each of which there seemed to +be at least one beggar in ambush: to say nothing of the tombs and +secluded altars. From every one of these lurking-places, such +crowds of phantom-looking men and women, leading other men and +women with twisted limbs, or chattering jaws, or paralytic +gestures, or idiotic heads, or some other sad infirmity, came +hobbling out to beg, that if the ruined frescoes in the cathedral +above, had been suddenly animated, and had retired to this lower +church, they could hardly have made a greater confusion, or +exhibited a more confounding display of arms and legs. + +There is Petrarch's Monument, too; and there is the Baptistery, +with its beautiful arches and immense font; and there is a gallery +containing some very remarkable pictures, whereof a few were being +copied by hairy-faced artists, with little velvet caps more off +their heads than on. There is the Farnese Palace, too; and in it +one of the dreariest spectacles of decay that ever was seen--a +grand, old, gloomy theatre, mouldering away. + +It is a large wooden structure, of the horse-shoe shape; the lower +seats arranged upon the Roman plan, but above them, great heavy +chambers; rather than boxes, where the Nobles sat, remote in their +proud state. Such desolation as has fallen on this theatre, +enhanced in the spectator's fancy by its gay intention and design, +none but worms can be familiar with. A hundred and ten years have +passed, since any play was acted here. The sky shines in through +the gashes in the roof; the boxes are dropping down, wasting away, +and only tenanted by rats; damp and mildew smear the faded colours, +and make spectral maps upon the panels; lean rags are dangling down +where there were gay festoons on the Proscenium; the stage has +rotted so, that a narrow wooden gallery is thrown across it, or it +would sink beneath the tread, and bury the visitor in the gloomy +depth beneath. The desolation and decay impress themselves on all +the senses. The air has a mouldering smell, and an earthy taste; +any stray outer sounds that straggle in with some lost sunbeam, are +muffled and heavy; and the worm, the maggot, and the rot have +changed the surface of the wood beneath the touch, as time will +seam and roughen a smooth hand. If ever Ghosts act plays, they act +them on this ghostly stage. + +It was most delicious weather, when we came into Modena, where the +darkness of the sombre colonnades over the footways skirting the +main street on either side, was made refreshing and agreeable by +the bright sky, so wonderfully blue. I passed from all the glory +of the day, into a dim cathedral, where High Mass was performing, +feeble tapers were burning, people were kneeling in all directions +before all manner of shrines, and officiating priests were crooning +the usual chant, in the usual, low, dull, drawling, melancholy +tone. + +Thinking how strange it was, to find, in every stagnant town, this +same Heart beating with the same monotonous pulsation, the centre +of the same torpid, listless system, I came out by another door, +and was suddenly scared to death by a blast from the shrillest +trumpet that ever was blown. Immediately, came tearing round the +corner, an equestrian company from Paris: marshalling themselves +under the walls of the church, and flouting, with their horses' +heels, the griffins, lions, tigers, and other monsters in stone and +marble, decorating its exterior. First, there came a stately +nobleman with a great deal of hair, and no hat, bearing an enormous +banner, on which was inscribed, MAZEPPA! TO-NIGHT! Then, a +Mexican chief, with a great pear-shaped club on his shoulder, like +Hercules. Then, six or eight Roman chariots: each with a +beautiful lady in extremely short petticoats, and unnaturally pink +tights, erect within: shedding beaming looks upon the crowd, in +which there was a latent expression of discomposure and anxiety, +for which I couldn't account, until, as the open back of each +chariot presented itself, I saw the immense difficulty with which +the pink legs maintained their perpendicular, over the uneven +pavement of the town: which gave me quite a new idea of the +ancient Romans and Britons. The procession was brought to a close, +by some dozen indomitable warriors of different nations, riding two +and two, and haughtily surveying the tame population of Modena: +among whom, however, they occasionally condescended to scatter +largesse in the form of a few handbills. After caracolling among +the lions and tigers, and proclaiming that evening's entertainments +with blast of trumpet, it then filed off, by the other end of the +square, and left a new and greatly increased dulness behind. + +When the procession had so entirely passed away, that the shrill +trumpet was mild in the distance, and the tail of the last horse +was hopelessly round the corner, the people who had come out of the +church to stare at it, went back again. But one old lady, kneeling +on the pavement within, near the door, had seen it all, and had +been immensely interested, without getting up; and this old lady's +eye, at that juncture, I happened to catch: to our mutual +confusion. She cut our embarrassment very short, however, by +crossing herself devoutly, and going down, at full length, on her +face, before a figure in a fancy petticoat and a gilt crown; which +was so like one of the procession-figures, that perhaps at this +hour she may think the whole appearance a celestial vision. +Anyhow, I must certainly have forgiven her her interest in the +Circus, though I had been her Father Confessor. + +There was a little fiery-eyed old man with a crooked shoulder, in +the cathedral, who took it very ill that I made no effort to see +the bucket (kept in an old tower) which the people of Modena took +away from the people of Bologna in the fourteenth century, and +about which there was war made and a mock-heroic poem by TASSONE, +too. Being quite content, however, to look at the outside of the +tower, and feast, in imagination, on the bucket within; and +preferring to loiter in the shade of the tall Campanile, and about +the cathedral; I have no personal knowledge of this bucket, even at +the present time. + +Indeed, we were at Bologna, before the little old man (or the +Guide-Book) would have considered that we had half done justice to +the wonders of Modena. But it is such a delight to me to leave new +scenes behind, and still go on, encountering newer scenes--and, +moreover, I have such a perverse disposition in respect of sights +that are cut, and dried, and dictated--that I fear I sin against +similar authorities in every place I visit. + +Be this as it may, in the pleasant Cemetery at Bologna, I found +myself walking next Sunday morning, among the stately marble tombs +and colonnades, in company with a crowd of Peasants, and escorted +by a little Cicerone of that town, who was excessively anxious for +the honour of the place, and most solicitous to divert my attention +from the bad monuments: whereas he was never tired of extolling +the good ones. Seeing this little man (a good-humoured little man +he was, who seemed to have nothing in his face but shining teeth +and eyes) looking wistfully at a certain plot of grass, I asked him +who was buried there. 'The poor people, Signore,' he said, with a +shrug and a smile, and stopping to look back at me--for he always +went on a little before, and took off his hat to introduce every +new monument. 'Only the poor, Signore! It's very cheerful. It's +very lively. How green it is, how cool! It's like a meadow! +There are five,'--holding up all the fingers of his right hand to +express the number, which an Italian peasant will always do, if it +be within the compass of his ten fingers,--'there are five of my +little children buried there, Signore; just there; a little to the +right. Well! Thanks to God! It's very cheerful. How green it +is, how cool it is! It's quite a meadow!' + +He looked me very hard in the face, and seeing I was sorry for him, +took a pinch of snuff (every Cicerone takes snuff), and made a +little bow; partly in deprecation of his having alluded to such a +subject, and partly in memory of the children and of his favourite +saint. It was as unaffected and as perfectly natural a little bow, +as ever man made. Immediately afterwards, he took his hat off +altogether, and begged to introduce me to the next monument; and +his eyes and his teeth shone brighter than before. + + + +CHAPTER VI--THROUGH BOLOGNA AND FERRARA + + + +There was such a very smart official in attendance at the Cemetery +where the little Cicerone had buried his children, that when the +little Cicerone suggested to me, in a whisper, that there would be +no offence in presenting this officer, in return for some slight +extra service, with a couple of pauls (about tenpence, English +money), I looked incredulously at his cocked hat, wash-leather +gloves, well-made uniform, and dazzling buttons, and rebuked the +little Cicerone with a grave shake of the head. For, in splendour +of appearance, he was at least equal to the Deputy Usher of the +Black Rod; and the idea of his carrying, as Jeremy Diddler would +say, 'such a thing as tenpence' away with him, seemed monstrous. +He took it in excellent part, however, when I made bold to give it +him, and pulled off his cocked hat with a flourish that would have +been a bargain at double the money. + +It seemed to be his duty to describe the monuments to the people-- +at all events he was doing so; and when I compared him, like +Gulliver in Brobdingnag, 'with the Institutions of my own beloved +country, I could not refrain from tears of pride and exultation.' +He had no pace at all; no more than a tortoise. He loitered as the +people loitered, that they might gratify their curiosity; and +positively allowed them, now and then, to read the inscriptions on +the tombs. He was neither shabby, nor insolent, nor churlish, nor +ignorant. He spoke his own language with perfect propriety, and +seemed to consider himself, in his way, a kind of teacher of the +people, and to entertain a just respect both for himself and them. +They would no more have such a man for a Verger in Westminster +Abbey, than they would let the people in (as they do at Bologna) to +see the monuments for nothing. {2} + +Again, an ancient sombre town, under the brilliant sky; with heavy +arcades over the footways of the older streets, and lighter and +more cheerful archways in the newer portions of the town. Again, +brown piles of sacred buildings, with more birds flying in and out +of chinks in the stones; and more snarling monsters for the bases +of the pillars. Again, rich churches, drowsy Masses, curling +incense, tinkling bells, priests in bright vestments: pictures, +tapers, laced altar cloths, crosses, images, and artificial +flowers. + +There is a grave and learned air about the city, and a pleasant +gloom upon it, that would leave it, a distinct and separate +impression in the mind, among a crowd of cities, though it were not +still further marked in the traveller's remembrance by the two +brick leaning towers (sufficiently unsightly in themselves, it must +be acknowledged), inclining cross-wise as if they were bowing +stiffly to each other--a most extraordinary termination to the +perspective of some of the narrow streets. The colleges, and +churches too, and palaces: and above all the academy of Fine Arts, +where there are a host of interesting pictures, especially by +GUIDO, DOMENICHINO, and LUDOVICO CARACCI: give it a place of its +own in the memory. Even though these were not, and there were +nothing else to remember it by, the great Meridian on the pavement +of the church of San Petronio, where the sunbeams mark the time +among the kneeling people, would give it a fanciful and pleasant +interest. + +Bologna being very full of tourists, detained there by an +inundation which rendered the road to Florence impassable, I was +quartered up at the top of an hotel, in an out-of-the-way room +which I never could find: containing a bed, big enough for a +boarding-school, which I couldn't fall asleep in. The chief among +the waiters who visited this lonely retreat, where there was no +other company but the swallows in the broad eaves over the window, +was a man of one idea in connection with the English; and the +subject of this harmless monomania, was Lord Byron. I made the +discovery by accidentally remarking to him, at breakfast, that the +matting with which the floor was covered, was very comfortable at +that season, when he immediately replied that Milor Beeron had been +much attached to that kind of matting. Observing, at the same +moment, that I took no milk, he exclaimed with enthusiasm, that +Milor Beeron had never touched it. At first, I took it for +granted, in my innocence, that he had been one of the Beeron +servants; but no, he said, no, he was in the habit of speaking +about my Lord, to English gentlemen; that was all. He knew all +about him, he said. In proof of it, he connected him with every +possible topic, from the Monte Pulciano wine at dinner (which was +grown on an estate he had owned), to the big bed itself, which was +the very model of his. When I left the inn, he coupled with his +final bow in the yard, a parting assurance that the road by which I +was going, had been Milor Beeron's favourite ride; and before the +horse's feet had well begun to clatter on the pavement, he ran +briskly up-stairs again, I dare say to tell some other Englishman +in some other solitary room that the guest who had just departed +was Lord Beeron's living image. + +I had entered Bologna by night--almost midnight--and all along the +road thither, after our entrance into the Papal territory: which +is not, in any part, supremely well governed, Saint Peter's keys +being rather rusty now; the driver had so worried about the danger +of robbers in travelling after dark, and had so infected the brave +Courier, and the two had been so constantly stopping and getting up +and down to look after a portmanteau which was tied on behind, that +I should have felt almost obliged to any one who would have had the +goodness to take it away. Hence it was stipulated, that, whenever +we left Bologna, we should start so as not to arrive at Ferrara +later than eight at night; and a delightful afternoon and evening +journey it was, albeit through a flat district which gradually +became more marshy from the overflow of brooks and rivers in the +recent heavy rains. + +At sunset, when I was walking on alone, while the horses rested, I +arrived upon a little scene, which, by one of those singular mental +operations of which we are all conscious, seemed perfectly familiar +to me, and which I see distinctly now. There was not much in it. +In the blood red light, there was a mournful sheet of water, just +stirred by the evening wind; upon its margin a few trees. In the +foreground was a group of silent peasant girls leaning over the +parapet of a little bridge, and looking, now up at the sky, now +down into the water; in the distance, a deep bell; the shade of +approaching night on everything. If I had been murdered there, in +some former life, I could not have seemed to remember the place +more thoroughly, or with a more emphatic chilling of the blood; and +the mere remembrance of it acquired in that minute, is so +strengthened by the imaginary recollection, that I hardly think I +could forget it. + +More solitary, more depopulated, more deserted, old Ferrara, than +any city of the solemn brotherhood! The grass so grows up in the +silent streets, that any one might make hay there, literally, while +the sun shines. But the sun shines with diminished cheerfulness in +grim Ferrara; and the people are so few who pass and re-pass +through the places, that the flesh of its inhabitants might be +grass indeed, and growing in the squares. + +I wonder why the head coppersmith in an Italian town, always lives +next door to the Hotel, or opposite: making the visitor feel as if +the beating hammers were his own heart, palpitating with a deadly +energy! I wonder why jealous corridors surround the bedroom on all +sides, and fill it with unnecessary doors that can't be shut, and +will not open, and abut on pitchy darkness! I wonder why it is not +enough that these distrustful genii stand agape at one's dreams all +night, but there must also be round open portholes, high in the +wall, suggestive, when a mouse or rat is heard behind the wainscot, +of a somebody scraping the wall with his toes, in his endeavours to +reach one of these portholes and look in! I wonder why the faggots +are so constructed, as to know of no effect but an agony of heat +when they are lighted and replenished, and an agony of cold and +suffocation at all other times! I wonder, above all, why it is the +great feature of domestic architecture in Italian inns, that all +the fire goes up the chimney, except the smoke! + +The answer matters little. Coppersmiths, doors, portholes, smoke, +and faggots, are welcome to me. Give me the smiling face of the +attendant, man or woman; the courteous manner; the amiable desire +to please and to be pleased; the light-hearted, pleasant, simple +air--so many jewels set in dirt--and I am theirs again to-morrow! + +ARIOSTO'S house, TASSO'S prison, a rare old Gothic cathedral, and +more churches of course, are the sights of Ferrara. But the long +silent streets, and the dismantled palaces, where ivy waves in lieu +of banners, and where rank weeds are slowly creeping up the long- +untrodden stairs, are the best sights of all. + +The aspect of this dreary town, half an hour before sunrise one +fine morning, when I left it, was as picturesque as it seemed +unreal and spectral. It was no matter that the people were not yet +out of bed; for if they had all been up and busy, they would have +made but little difference in that desert of a place. It was best +to see it, without a single figure in the picture; a city of the +dead, without one solitary survivor. Pestilence might have ravaged +streets, squares, and market-places; and sack and siege have ruined +the old houses, battered down their doors and windows, and made +breaches in their roofs. In one part, a great tower rose into the +air; the only landmark in the melancholy view. In another, a +prodigious castle, with a moat about it, stood aloof: a sullen +city in itself. In the black dungeons of this castle, Parisina and +her lover were beheaded in the dead of night. The red light, +beginning to shine when I looked back upon it, stained its walls +without, as they have, many a time, been stained within, in old +days; but for any sign of life they gave, the castle and the city +might have been avoided by all human creatures, from the moment +when the axe went down upon the last of the two lovers: and might +have never vibrated to another sound + + +Beyond the blow that to the block +Pierced through with forced and sullen shock. + + +Coming to the Po, which was greatly swollen, and running fiercely, +we crossed it by a floating bridge of boats, and so came into the +Austrian territory, and resumed our journey: through a country of +which, for some miles, a great part was under water. The brave +Courier and the soldiery had first quarrelled, for half an hour or +more, over our eternal passport. But this was a daily relaxation +with the Brave, who was always stricken deaf when shabby +functionaries in uniform came, as they constantly did come, +plunging out of wooden boxes to look at it--or in other words to +beg--and who, stone deaf to my entreaties that the man might have a +trifle given him, and we resume our journey in peace, was wont to +sit reviling the functionary in broken English: while the +unfortunate man's face was a portrait of mental agony framed in the +coach window, from his perfect ignorance of what was being said to +his disparagement. + +There was a postilion, in the course of this day's journey, as wild +and savagely good-looking a vagabond as you would desire to see. +He was a tall, stout-made, dark-complexioned fellow, with a +profusion of shaggy black hair hanging all over his face, and great +black whiskers stretching down his throat. His dress was a torn +suit of rifle green, garnished here and there with red; a steeple- +crowned hat, innocent of nap, with a broken and bedraggled feather +stuck in the band; and a flaming red neckerchief hanging on his +shoulders. He was not in the saddle, but reposed, quite at his +ease, on a sort of low foot-board in front of the postchaise, down +amongst the horses' tails--convenient for having his brains kicked +out, at any moment. To this Brigand, the brave Courier, when we +were at a reasonable trot, happened to suggest the practicability +of going faster. He received the proposal with a perfect yell of +derision; brandished his whip about his head (such a whip! it was +more like a home-made bow); flung up his heels, much higher than +the horses; and disappeared, in a paroxysm, somewhere in the +neighbourhood of the axle-tree. I fully expected to see him lying +in the road, a hundred yards behind, but up came the steeple- +crowned hat again, next minute, and he was seen reposing, as on a +sofa, entertaining himself with the idea, and crying, 'Ha, ha! what +next! Oh the devil! Faster too! Shoo--hoo--o--o!' (This last +ejaculation, an inexpressibly defiant hoot.) Being anxious to +reach our immediate destination that night, I ventured, by-and-by, +to repeat the experiment on my own account. It produced exactly +the same effect. Round flew the whip with the same scornful +flourish, up came the heels, down went the steeple-crowned hat, and +presently he reappeared, reposing as before and saying to himself, +'Ha ha! what next! Faster too! Oh the devil! Shoo--hoo--o--o!' + + + +CHAPTER VII--AN ITALIAN DREAM + + + +I had been travelling, for some days; resting very little in the +night, and never in the day. The rapid and unbroken succession of +novelties that had passed before me, came back like half-formed +dreams; and a crowd of objects wandered in the greatest confusion +through my mind, as I travelled on, by a solitary road. At +intervals, some one among them would stop, as it were, in its +restless flitting to and fro, and enable me to look at it, quite +steadily, and behold it in full distinctness. After a few moments, +it would dissolve, like a view in a magic-lantern; and while I saw +some part of it quite plainly, and some faintly, and some not at +all, would show me another of the many places I had lately seen, +lingering behind it, and coming through it. This was no sooner +visible than, in its turn, it melted into something else. + +At one moment, I was standing again, before the brown old rugged +churches of Modena. As I recognised the curious pillars with grim +monsters for their bases, I seemed to see them, standing by +themselves in the quiet square at Padua, where there were the staid +old University, and the figures, demurely gowned, grouped here and +there in the open space about it. Then, I was strolling in the +outskirts of that pleasant city, admiring the unusual neatness of +the dwelling-houses, gardens, and orchards, as I had seen them a +few hours before. In their stead arose, immediately, the two +towers of Bologna; and the most obstinate of all these objects, +failed to hold its ground, a minute, before the monstrous moated +castle of Ferrara, which, like an illustration to a wild romance, +came back again in the red sunrise, lording it over the solitary, +grass-grown, withered town. In short, I had that incoherent but +delightful jumble in my brain, which travellers are apt to have, +and are indolently willing to encourage. Every shake of the coach +in which I sat, half dozing in the dark, appeared to jerk some new +recollection out of its place, and to jerk some other new +recollection into it; and in this state I fell asleep. + +I was awakened after some time (as I thought) by the stopping of +the coach. It was now quite night, and we were at the waterside. +There lay here, a black boat, with a little house or cabin in it of +the same mournful colour. When I had taken my seat in this, the +boat was paddled, by two men, towards a great light, lying in the +distance on the sea. + +Ever and again, there was a dismal sigh of wind. It ruffled the +water, and rocked the boat, and sent the dark clouds flying before +the stars. I could not but think how strange it was, to be +floating away at that hour: leaving the land behind, and going on, +towards this light upon the sea. It soon began to burn brighter; +and from being one light became a cluster of tapers, twinkling and +shining out of the water, as the boat approached towards them by a +dreamy kind of track, marked out upon the sea by posts and piles. + +We had floated on, five miles or so, over the dark water, when I +heard it rippling in my dream, against some obstruction near at +hand. Looking out attentively, I saw, through the gloom, a +something black and massive--like a shore, but lying close and flat +upon the water, like a raft--which we were gliding past. The chief +of the two rowers said it was a burial-place. + +Full of the interest and wonder which a cemetery lying out there, +in the lonely sea, inspired, I turned to gaze upon it as it should +recede in our path, when it was quickly shut out from my view. +Before I knew by what, or how, I found that we were gliding up a +street--a phantom street; the houses rising on both sides, from the +water, and the black boat gliding on beneath their windows. Lights +were shining from some of these casements, plumbing the depth of +the black stream with their reflected rays, but all was profoundly +silent. + +So we advanced into this ghostly city, continuing to hold our +course through narrow streets and lanes, all filled and flowing +with water. Some of the corners where our way branched off, were +so acute and narrow, that it seemed impossible for the long slender +boat to turn them; but the rowers, with a low melodious cry of +warning, sent it skimming on without a pause. Sometimes, the +rowers of another black boat like our own, echoed the cry, and +slackening their speed (as I thought we did ours) would come +flitting past us like a dark shadow. Other boats, of the same +sombre hue, were lying moored, I thought, to painted pillars, near +to dark mysterious doors that opened straight upon the water. Some +of these were empty; in some, the rowers lay asleep; towards one, I +saw some figures coming down a gloomy archway from the interior of +a palace: gaily dressed, and attended by torch-bearers. It was +but a glimpse I had of them; for a bridge, so low and close upon +the boat that it seemed ready to fall down and crush us: one of +the many bridges that perplexed the Dream: blotted them out, +instantly. On we went, floating towards the heart of this strange +place--with water all about us where never water was elsewhere-- +clusters of houses, churches, heaps of stately buildings growing +out of it--and, everywhere, the same extraordinary silence. +Presently, we shot across a broad and open stream; and passing, as +I thought, before a spacious paved quay, where the bright lamps +with which it was illuminated showed long rows of arches and +pillars, of ponderous construction and great strength, but as light +to the eye as garlands of hoarfrost or gossamer--and where, for the +first time, I saw people walking--arrived at a flight of steps +leading from the water to a large mansion, where, having passed +through corridors and galleries innumerable, I lay down to rest; +listening to the black boats stealing up and down below the window +on the rippling water, till I fell asleep. + +The glory of the day that broke upon me in this Dream; its +freshness, motion, buoyancy; its sparkles of the sun in water; its +clear blue sky and rustling air; no waking words can tell. But, +from my window, I looked down on boats and barks; on masts, sails, +cordage, flags; on groups of busy sailors, working at the cargoes +of these vessels; on wide quays, strewn with bales, casks, +merchandise of many kinds; on great ships, lying near at hand in +stately indolence; on islands, crowned with gorgeous domes and +turrets: and where golden crosses glittered in the light, atop of +wondrous churches, springing from the sea! Going down upon the +margin of the green sea, rolling on before the door, and filling +all the streets, I came upon a place of such surpassing beauty, and +such grandeur, that all the rest was poor and faded, in comparison +with its absorbing loveliness. + +It was a great Piazza, as I thought; anchored, like all the rest, +in the deep ocean. On its broad bosom, was a Palace, more majestic +and magnificent in its old age, than all the buildings of the +earth, in the high prime and fulness of their youth. Cloisters and +galleries: so light, they might have been the work of fairy hands: +so strong that centuries had battered them in vain: wound round +and round this palace, and enfolded it with a Cathedral, gorgeous +in the wild luxuriant fancies of the East. At no great distance +from its porch, a lofty tower, standing by itself, and rearing its +proud head, alone, into the sky, looked out upon the Adriatic Sea. +Near to the margin of the stream, were two ill-omened pillars of +red granite; one having on its top, a figure with a sword and +shield; the other, a winged lion. Not far from these again, a +second tower: richest of the rich in all its decorations: even +here, where all was rich: sustained aloft, a great orb, gleaming +with gold and deepest blue: the Twelve Signs painted on it, and a +mimic sun revolving in its course around them: while above, two +bronze giants hammered out the hours upon a sounding bell. An +oblong square of lofty houses of the whitest stone, surrounded by a +light and beautiful arcade, formed part of this enchanted scene; +and, here and there, gay masts for flags rose, tapering, from the +pavement of the unsubstantial ground. + +I thought I entered the Cathedral, and went in and out among its +many arches: traversing its whole extent. A grand and dreamy +structure, of immense proportions; golden with old mosaics; +redolent of perfumes; dim with the smoke of incense; costly in +treasure of precious stones and metals, glittering through iron +bars; holy with the bodies of deceased saints; rainbow-hued with +windows of stained glass; dark with carved woods and coloured +marbles; obscure in its vast heights, and lengthened distances; +shining with silver lamps and winking lights; unreal, fantastic, +solemn, inconceivable throughout. I thought I entered the old +palace; pacing silent galleries and council-chambers, where the old +rulers of this mistress of the waters looked sternly out, in +pictures, from the walls, and where her high-prowed galleys, still +victorious on canvas, fought and conquered as of old. I thought I +wandered through its halls of state and triumph--bare and empty +now!--and musing on its pride and might, extinct: for that was +past; all past: heard a voice say, 'Some tokens of its ancient +rule and some consoling reasons for its downfall, may be traced +here, yet!' + +I dreamed that I was led on, then, into some jealous rooms, +communicating with a prison near the palace; separated from it by a +lofty bridge crossing a narrow street; and called, I dreamed, The +Bridge of Sighs. + +But first I passed two jagged slits in a stone wall; the lions' +mouths--now toothless--where, in the distempered horror of my +sleep, I thought denunciations of innocent men to the old wicked +Council, had been dropped through, many a time, when the night was +dark. So, when I saw the council-room to which such prisoners were +taken for examination, and the door by which they passed out, when +they were condemned--a door that never closed upon a man with life +and hope before him--my heart appeared to die within me. + +It was smitten harder though, when, torch in hand, I descended from +the cheerful day into two ranges, one below another, of dismal, +awful, horrible stone cells. They were quite dark. Each had a +loop-hole in its massive wall, where, in the old time, every day, a +torch was placed--I dreamed--to light the prisoner within, for half +an hour. The captives, by the glimmering of these brief rays, had +scratched and cut inscriptions in the blackened vaults. I saw +them. For their labour with a rusty nail's point, had outlived +their agony and them, through many generations. + +One cell, I saw, in which no man remained for more than four-and- +twenty hours; being marked for dead before he entered it. Hard by, +another, and a dismal one, whereto, at midnight, the confessor +came--a monk brown-robed, and hooded--ghastly in the day, and free +bright air, but in the midnight of that murky prison, Hope's +extinguisher, and Murder's herald. I had my foot upon the spot, +where, at the same dread hour, the shriven prisoner was strangled; +and struck my hand upon the guilty door--low-browed and stealthy-- +through which the lumpish sack was carried out into a boat, and +rowed away, and drowned where it was death to cast a net. + +Around this dungeon stronghold, and above some part of it: licking +the rough walls without, and smearing them with damp and slime +within: stuffing dank weeds and refuse into chinks and crevices, +as if the very stones and bars had mouths to stop: furnishing a +smooth road for the removal of the bodies of the secret victims of +the State--a road so ready that it went along with them, and ran +before them, like a cruel officer--flowed the same water that +filled this Dream of mine, and made it seem one, even at the time. + +Descending from the palace by a staircase, called, I thought, the +Giant's--I had some imaginary recollection of an old man +abdicating, coming, more slowly and more feebly, down it, when he +heard the bell, proclaiming his successor--I glided off, in one of +the dark boats, until we came to an old arsenal guarded by four +marble lions. To make my Dream more monstrous and unlikely, one of +these had words and sentences upon its body, inscribed there, at an +unknown time, and in an unknown language; so that their purport was +a mystery to all men. + +There was little sound of hammers in this place for building ships, +and little work in progress; for the greatness of the city was no +more, as I have said. Indeed, it seemed a very wreck found +drifting on the sea; a strange flag hoisted in its honourable +stations, and strangers standing at its helm. A splendid barge in +which its ancient chief had gone forth, pompously, at certain +periods, to wed the ocean, lay here, I thought, no more; but, in +its place, there was a tiny model, made from recollection like the +city's greatness; and it told of what had been (so are the strong +and weak confounded in the dust) almost as eloquently as the +massive pillars, arches, roofs, reared to overshadow stately ships +that had no other shadow now, upon the water or the earth. + +An armoury was there yet. Plundered and despoiled; but an armoury. +With a fierce standard taken from the Turks, drooping in the dull +air of its cage. Rich suits of mail worn by great warriors were +hoarded there; crossbows and bolts; quivers full of arrows; spears; +swords, daggers, maces, shields, and heavy-headed axes. Plates of +wrought steel and iron, to make the gallant horse a monster cased +in metal scales; and one spring-weapon (easy to be carried in the +breast) designed to do its office noiselessly, and made for +shooting men with poisoned darts. + +One press or case I saw, full of accursed instruments of torture +horribly contrived to cramp, and pinch, and grind and crush men's +bones, and tear and twist them with the torment of a thousand +deaths. Before it, were two iron helmets, with breast-pieces: +made to close up tight and smooth upon the heads of living +sufferers; and fastened on to each, was a small knob or anvil, +where the directing devil could repose his elbow at his ease, and +listen, near the walled-up ear, to the lamentations and confessions +of the wretch within. There was that grim resemblance in them to +the human shape--they were such moulds of sweating faces, pained +and cramped--that it was difficult to think them empty; and +terrible distortions lingering within them, seemed to follow me, +when, taking to my boat again, I rowed off to a kind of garden or +public walk in the sea, where there were grass and trees. But I +forgot them when I stood upon its farthest brink--I stood there, in +my dream--and looked, along the ripple, to the setting sun; before +me, in the sky and on the deep, a crimson flush; and behind me the +whole city resolving into streaks of red and purple, on the water. + +In the luxurious wonder of so rare a dream, I took but little heed +of time, and had but little understanding of its flight. But there +were days and nights in it; and when the sun was high, and when the +rays of lamps were crooked in the running water, I was still +afloat, I thought: plashing the slippery walls and houses with the +cleavings of the tide, as my black boat, borne upon it, skimmed +along the streets. + +Sometimes, alighting at the doors of churches and vast palaces, I +wandered on, from room to room, from aisle to aisle, through +labyrinths of rich altars, ancient monuments; decayed apartments +where the furniture, half awful, half grotesque, was mouldering +away. Pictures were there, replete with such enduring beauty and +expression: with such passion, truth and power: that they seemed +so many young and fresh realities among a host of spectres. I +thought these, often intermingled with the old days of the city: +with its beauties, tyrants, captains, patriots, merchants, +counters, priests: nay, with its very stones, and bricks, and +public places; all of which lived again, about me, on the walls. +Then, coming down some marble staircase where the water lapped and +oozed against the lower steps, I passed into my boat again, and +went on in my dream. + +Floating down narrow lanes, where carpenters, at work with plane +and chisel in their shops, tossed the light shaving straight upon +the water, where it lay like weed, or ebbed away before me in a +tangled heap. Past open doors, decayed and rotten from long +steeping in the wet, through which some scanty patch of vine shone +green and bright, making unusual shadows on the pavement with its +trembling leaves. Past quays and terraces, where women, gracefully +veiled, were passing and repassing, and where idlers were reclining +in the sunshine, on flag-stones and on flights of steps. Past +bridges, where there were idlers too; loitering and looking over. +Below stone balconies, erected at a giddy height, before the +loftiest windows of the loftiest houses. Past plots of garden, +theatres, shrines, prodigious piles of architecture--Gothic-- +Saracenic--fanciful with all the fancies of all times and +countries. Past buildings that were high, and low, and black, and +white, and straight, and crooked; mean and grand, crazy and strong. +Twining among a tangled lot of boats and barges, and shooting out +at last into a Grand Canal! There, in the errant fancy of my +dream, I saw old Shylock passing to and fro upon a bridge, all +built upon with shops and humming with the tongues of men; a form I +seemed to know for Desdemona's, leaned down through a latticed +blind to pluck a flower. And, in the dream, I thought that +Shakespeare's spirit was abroad upon the water somewhere: stealing +through the city. + +At night, when two votive lamps burnt before an image of the +Virgin, in a gallery outside the great cathedral, near the roof, I +fancied that the great piazza of the Winged Lion was a blaze of +cheerful light, and that its whole arcade was thronged with people; +while crowds were diverting themselves in splendid coffee-houses +opening from it--which were never shut, I thought, but open all +night long. When the bronze giants struck the hour of midnight on +the bell, I thought the life and animation of the city were all +centred here; and as I rowed away, abreast the silent quays, I only +saw them dotted, here and there, with sleeping boatmen wrapped up +in their cloaks, and lying at full length upon the stones. + +But close about the quays and churches, palaces and prisons sucking +at their walls, and welling up into the secret places of the town: +crept the water always. Noiseless and watchful: coiled round and +round it, in its many folds, like an old serpent: waiting for the +time, I thought, when people should look down into its depths for +any stone of the old city that had claimed to be its mistress. + +Thus it floated me away, until I awoke in the old market-place at +Verona. I have, many and many a time, thought since, of this +strange Dream upon the water: half-wondering if it lie there yet, +and if its name be VENICE. + + + +CHAPTER VIII--BY VERONA, MANTUA, AND MILAN, ACROSS THE PASS OF THE +SIMPLON INTO SWITZERLAND + + + +I had been half afraid to go to Verona, lest it should at all put +me out of conceit with Romeo and Juliet. But, I was no sooner come +into the old market-place, than the misgiving vanished. It is so +fanciful, quaint, and picturesque a place, formed by such an +extraordinary and rich variety of fantastic buildings, that there +could be nothing better at the core of even this romantic town: +scene of one of the most romantic and beautiful of stories. + +It was natural enough, to go straight from the Market-place, to the +House of the Capulets, now degenerated into a most miserable little +inn. Noisy vetturini and muddy market-carts were disputing +possession of the yard, which was ankle-deep in dirt, with a brood +of splashed and bespattered geese; and there was a grim-visaged +dog, viciously panting in a doorway, who would certainly have had +Romeo by the leg, the moment he put it over the wall, if he had +existed and been at large in those times. The orchard fell into +other hands, and was parted off many years ago; but there used to +be one attached to the house--or at all events there may have, +been,--and the hat (Cappello) the ancient cognizance of the family, +may still be seen, carved in stone, over the gateway of the yard. +The geese, the market-carts, their drivers, and the dog, were +somewhat in the way of the story, it must be confessed; and it +would have been pleasanter to have found the house empty, and to +have been able to walk through the disused rooms. But the hat was +unspeakably comfortable; and the place where the garden used to be, +hardly less so. Besides, the house is a distrustful, jealous- +looking house as one would desire to see, though of a very moderate +size. So I was quite satisfied with it, as the veritable mansion +of old Capulet, and was correspondingly grateful in my +acknowledgments to an extremely unsentimental middle-aged lady, the +Padrona of the Hotel, who was lounging on the threshold looking at +the geese; and who at least resembled the Capulets in the one +particular of being very great indeed in the 'Family' way. + +From Juliet's home, to Juliet's tomb, is a transition as natural to +the visitor, as to fair Juliet herself, or to the proudest Juliet +that ever has taught the torches to burn bright in any time. So, I +went off, with a guide, to an old, old garden, once belonging to an +old, old convent, I suppose; and being admitted, at a shattered +gate, by a bright-eyed woman who was washing clothes, went down +some walks where fresh plants and young flowers were prettily +growing among fragments of old wall, and ivy-coloured mounds; and +was shown a little tank, or water-trough, which the bright-eyed +woman--drying her arms upon her 'kerchief, called 'La tomba di +Giulietta la sfortunata.' With the best disposition in the world +to believe, I could do no more than believe that the bright-eyed +woman believed; so I gave her that much credit, and her customary +fee in ready money. It was a pleasure, rather than a +disappointment, that Juliet's resting-place was forgotten. However +consolatory it may have been to Yorick's Ghost, to hear the feet +upon the pavement overhead, and, twenty times a day, the repetition +of his name, it is better for Juliet to lie out of the track of +tourists, and to have no visitors but such as come to graves in +spring-rain, and sweet air, and sunshine. + +Pleasant Verona! With its beautiful old palaces, and charming +country in the distance, seen from terrace walks, and stately, +balustraded galleries. With its Roman gates, still spanning the +fair street, and casting, on the sunlight of to-day, the shade of +fifteen hundred years ago. With its marble-fitted churches, lofty +towers, rich architecture, and quaint old quiet thoroughfares, +where shouts of Montagues and Capulets once resounded, + + +And made Verona's ancient citizens +Cast by their grave, beseeming ornaments, +To wield old partizans. + + +With its fast-rushing river, picturesque old bridge, great castle, +waving cypresses, and prospect so delightful, and so cheerful! +Pleasant Verona! + +In the midst of it, in the Piazza di Bra--a spirit of old time +among the familiar realities of the passing hour--is the great +Roman Amphitheatre. So well preserved, and carefully maintained, +that every row of seats is there, unbroken. Over certain of the +arches, the old Roman numerals may yet be seen; and there are +corridors, and staircases, and subterranean passages for beasts, +and winding ways, above ground and below, as when the fierce +thousands hurried in and out, intent upon the bloody shows of the +arena. Nestling in some of the shadows and hollow places of the +walls, now, are smiths with their forges, and a few small dealers +of one kind or other; and there are green weeds, and leaves, and +grass, upon the parapet. But little else is greatly changed. + +When I had traversed all about it, with great interest, and had +gone up to the topmost round of seats, and turning from the lovely +panorama closed in by the distant Alps, looked down into the +building, it seemed to lie before me like the inside of a +prodigious hat of plaited straw, with an enormously broad brim and +a shallow crown; the plaits being represented by the four-and-forty +rows of seats. The comparison is a homely and fantastic one, in +sober remembrance and on paper, but it was irresistibly suggested +at the moment, nevertheless. + +An equestrian troop had been there, a short time before--the same +troop, I dare say, that appeared to the old lady in the church at +Modena--and had scooped out a little ring at one end of the area; +where their performances had taken place, and where the marks of +their horses' feet were still fresh. I could not but picture to +myself, a handful of spectators gathered together on one or two of +the old stone seats, and a spangled Cavalier being gallant, or a +Policinello funny, with the grim walls looking on. Above all, I +thought how strangely those Roman mutes would gaze upon the +favourite comic scene of the travelling English, where a British +nobleman (Lord John), with a very loose stomach: dressed in a +blue-tailed coat down to his heels, bright yellow breeches, and a +white hat: comes abroad, riding double on a rearing horse, with an +English lady (Lady Betsy) in a straw bonnet and green veil, and a +red spencer; and who always carries a gigantic reticule, and a put- +up parasol. + +I walked through and through the town all the rest of the day, and +could have walked there until now, I think. In one place, there +was a very pretty modern theatre, where they had just performed the +opera (always popular in Verona) of Romeo and Juliet. In another +there was a collection, under a colonnade, of Greek, Roman, and +Etruscan remains, presided over by an ancient man who might have +been an Etruscan relic himself; for he was not strong enough to +open the iron gate, when he had unlocked it, and had neither voice +enough to be audible when he described the curiosities, nor sight +enough to see them: he was so very old. In another place, there +was a gallery of pictures: so abominably bad, that it was quite +delightful to see them mouldering away. But anywhere: in the +churches, among the palaces, in the streets, on the bridge, or down +beside the river: it was always pleasant Verona, and in my +remembrance always will be. + +I read Romeo and Juliet in my own room at the inn that night--of +course, no Englishman had ever read it there, before--and set out +for Mantua next day at sunrise, repeating to myself (in the coupe +of an omnibus, and next to the conductor, who was reading the +Mysteries of Paris), + + +There is no world without Verona's walls +But purgatory, torture, hell itself. +Hence-banished is banished from the world, +And world's exile is death - + + +which reminded me that Romeo was only banished five-and-twenty +miles after all, and rather disturbed my confidence in his energy +and boldness. + +Was the way to Mantua as beautiful, in his time, I wonder! Did it +wind through pasture land as green, bright with the same glancing +streams, and dotted with fresh clumps of graceful trees! Those +purple mountains lay on the horizon, then, for certain; and the +dresses of these peasant girls, who wear a great, knobbed, silver +pin like an English 'life-preserver' through their hair behind, can +hardly be much changed. The hopeful feeling of so bright a +morning, and so exquisite a sunrise, can have been no stranger, +even to an exiled lover's breast; and Mantua itself must have +broken on him in the prospect, with its towers, and walls, and +water, pretty much as on a commonplace and matrimonial omnibus. He +made the same sharp twists and turns, perhaps, over two rumbling +drawbridges; passed through the like long, covered, wooden bridge; +and leaving the marshy water behind, approached the rusty gate of +stagnant Mantua. + +If ever a man were suited to his place of residence, and his place +of residence to him, the lean Apothecary and Mantua came together +in a perfect fitness of things. It may have been more stirring +then, perhaps. If so, the Apothecary was a man in advance of his +time, and knew what Mantua would be, in eighteen hundred and forty- +four. He fasted much, and that assisted him in his foreknowledge. + +I put up at the Hotel of the Golden Lion, and was in my own room +arranging plans with the brave Courier, when there came a modest +little tap at the door, which opened on an outer gallery +surrounding a court-yard; and an intensely shabby little man looked +in, to inquire if the gentleman would have a Cicerone to show the +town. His face was so very wistful and anxious, in the half-opened +doorway, and there was so much poverty expressed in his faded suit +and little pinched hat, and in the thread-bare worsted glove with +which he held it--not expressed the less, because these were +evidently his genteel clothes, hastily slipped on--that I would as +soon have trodden on him as dismissed him. I engaged him on the +instant, and he stepped in directly. + +While I finished the discussion in which I was engaged, he stood, +beaming by himself in a corner, making a feint of brushing my hat +with his arm. If his fee had been as many napoleons as it was +francs, there could not have shot over the twilight of his +shabbiness such a gleam of sun, as lighted up the whole man, now +that he was hired. + +'Well!' said I, when I was ready, 'shall we go out now?' + +'If the gentleman pleases. It is a beautiful day. A little fresh, +but charming; altogether charming. The gentleman will allow me to +open the door. This is the Inn Yard. The court-yard of the Golden +Lion! The gentleman will please to mind his footing on the +stairs.' + +We were now in the street. + +'This is the street of the Golden Lion. This, the outside of the +Golden Lion. The interesting window up there, on the first Piano, +where the pane of glass is broken, is the window of the gentleman's +chamber!' + +Having viewed all these remarkable objects, I inquired if there +were much to see in Mantua. + +'Well! Truly, no. Not much! So, so,' he said, shrugging his +shoulders apologetically. + +'Many churches?' + +'No. Nearly all suppressed by the French.' + +'Monasteries or convents?' + +'No. The French again! Nearly all suppressed by Napoleon.' + +'Much business?' + +'Very little business.' + +'Many strangers?' + +'Ah Heaven!' + +I thought he would have fainted. + +'Then, when we have seen the two large churches yonder, what shall +we do next?' said I. + +He looked up the street, and down the street, and rubbed his chin +timidly; and then said, glancing in my face as if a light had +broken on his mind, yet with a humble appeal to my forbearance that +was perfectly irresistible: + +'We can take a little turn about the town, Signore!' (Si puo far +'un piccolo giro della citta). + +It was impossible to be anything but delighted with the proposal, +so we set off together in great good-humour. In the relief of his +mind, he opened his heart, and gave up as much of Mantua as a +Cicerone could. + +'One must eat,' he said; 'but, bah! it was a dull place, without +doubt!' + +He made as much as possible of the Basilica of Santa Andrea--a +noble church--and of an inclosed portion of the pavement, about +which tapers were burning, and a few people kneeling, and under +which is said to be preserved the Sangreal of the old Romances. +This church disposed of, and another after it (the cathedral of San +Pietro), we went to the Museum, which was shut up. 'It was all the +same,' he said. 'Bah! There was not much inside!' Then, we went +to see the Piazza del Diavolo, built by the Devil (for no +particular purpose) in a single night; then, the Piazza Virgiliana; +then, the statue of Virgil--OUR Poet, my little friend said, +plucking up a spirit, for the moment, and putting his hat a little +on one side. Then, we went to a dismal sort of farm-yard, by which +a picture-gallery was approached. The moment the gate of this +retreat was opened, some five hundred geese came waddling round us, +stretching out their necks, and clamouring in the most hideous +manner, as if they were ejaculating, 'Oh! here's somebody come to +see the Pictures! Don't go up! Don't go up!' While we went up, +they waited very quietly about the door in a crowd, cackling to one +another occasionally, in a subdued tone; but the instant we +appeared again, their necks came out like telescopes, and setting +up a great noise, which meant, I have no doubt, 'What, you would +go, would you! What do you think of it! How do you like it!' they +attended us to the outer gate, and cast us forth, derisively, into +Mantua. + +The geese who saved the Capitol, were, as compared to these, Pork +to the learned Pig. What a gallery it was! I would take their +opinion on a question of art, in preference to the discourses of +Sir Joshua Reynolds. + +Now that we were standing in the street, after being thus +ignominiouly escorted thither, my little friend was plainly reduced +to the 'piccolo giro,' or little circuit of the town, he had +formerly proposed. But my suggestion that we should visit the +Palazzo Te (of which I had heard a great deal, as a strange wild +place) imparted new life to him, and away we went. + +The secret of the length of Midas's ears, would have been more +extensively known, if that servant of his, who whispered it to the +reeds, had lived in Mantua, where there are reeds and rushes enough +to have published it to all the world. The Palazzo Te stands in a +swamp, among this sort of vegetation; and is, indeed, as singular a +place as I ever saw. + +Not for its dreariness, though it is very dreary. Not for its +dampness, though it is very damp. Nor for its desolate condition, +though it is as desolate and neglected as house can be. But +chiefly for the unaccountable nightmares with which its interior +has been decorated (among other subjects of more delicate +execution), by Giulio Romano. There is a leering Giant over a +certain chimney-piece, and there are dozens of Giants (Titans +warring with Jove) on the walls of another room, so inconceivably +ugly and grotesque, that it is marvellous how any man can have +imagined such creatures. In the chamber in which they abound, +these monsters, with swollen faces and cracked cheeks, and every +kind of distortion of look and limb, are depicted as staggering +under the weight of falling buildings, and being overwhelmed in the +ruins; upheaving masses of rock, and burying themselves beneath; +vainly striving to sustain the pillars of heavy roofs that topple +down upon their heads; and, in a word, undergoing and doing every +kind of mad and demoniacal destruction. The figures are immensely +large, and exaggerated to the utmost pitch of uncouthness; the +colouring is harsh and disagreeable; and the whole effect more like +(I should imagine) a violent rush of blood to the head of the +spectator, than any real picture set before him by the hand of an +artist. This apoplectic performance was shown by a sickly-looking +woman, whose appearance was referable, I dare say, to the bad air +of the marshes; but it was difficult to help feeling as if she were +too much haunted by the Giants, and they were frightening her to +death, all alone in that exhausted cistern of a Palace, among the +reeds and rushes, with the mists hovering about outside, and +stalking round and round it continually. + +Our walk through Mantua showed us, in almost every street, some +suppressed church: now used for a warehouse, now for nothing at +all: all as crazy and dismantled as they could be, short of +tumbling down bodily. The marshy town was so intensely dull and +flat, that the dirt upon it seemed not to have come there in the +ordinary course, but to have settled and mantled on its surface as +on standing water. And yet there were some business-dealings going +on, and some profits realising; for there were arcades full of +Jews, where those extraordinary people were sitting outside their +shops, contemplating their stores of stuffs, and woollens, and +bright handkerchiefs, and trinkets: and looking, in all respects, +as wary and business-like, as their brethren in Houndsditch, +London. + +Having selected a Vetturino from among the neighbouring Christians, +who agreed to carry us to Milan in two days and a half, and to +start, next morning, as soon as the gates were opened, I returned +to the Golden Lion, and dined luxuriously in my own room, in a +narrow passage between two bedsteads: confronted by a smoky fire, +and backed up by a chest of drawers. At six o'clock next morning, +we were jingling in the dark through the wet cold mist that +enshrouded the town; and, before noon, the driver (a native of +Mantua, and sixty years of age or thereabouts) began TO ASK THE WAY +to Milan. + +It lay through Bozzolo; formerly a little republic, and now one of +the most deserted and poverty-stricken of towns: where the +landlord of the miserable inn (God bless him! it was his weekly +custom) was distributing infinitesimal coins among a clamorous herd +of women and children, whose rags were fluttering in the wind and +rain outside his door, where they were gathered to receive his +charity. It lay through mist, and mud, and rain, and vines trained +low upon the ground, all that day and the next; the first sleeping- +place being Cremona, memorable for its dark brick churches, and +immensely high tower, the Torrazzo--to say nothing of its violins, +of which it certainly produces none in these degenerate days; and +the second, Lodi. Then we went on, through more mud, mist, and +rain, and marshy ground: and through such a fog, as Englishmen, +strong in the faith of their own grievances, are apt to believe is +nowhere to be found but in their own country, until we entered the +paved streets of Milan. + +The fog was so dense here, that the spire of the far-famed +Cathedral might as well have been at Bombay, for anything that +could be seen of it at that time. But as we halted to refresh, for +a few days then, and returned to Milan again next summer, I had +ample opportunities of seeing the glorious structure in all its +majesty and beauty. + +All Christian homage to the saint who lies within it! There are +many good and true saints in the calendar, but San Carlo Borromeo +has--if I may quote Mrs. Primrose on such a subject--'my warm +heart.' A charitable doctor to the sick, a munificent friend to +the poor, and this, not in any spirit of blind bigotry, but as the +bold opponent of enormous abuses in the Romish church, I honour his +memory. I honour it none the less, because he was nearly slain by +a priest, suborned, by priests, to murder him at the altar: in +acknowledgment of his endeavours to reform a false and hypocritical +brotherhood of monks. Heaven shield all imitators of San Carlo +Borromeo as it shielded him! A reforming Pope would need a little +shielding, even now. + +The subterranean chapel in which the body of San Carlo Borromeo is +preserved, presents as striking and as ghastly a contrast, perhaps, +as any place can show. The tapers which are lighted down there, +flash and gleam on alti-rilievi in gold and silver, delicately +wrought by skilful hands, and representing the principal events in +the life of the saint. Jewels, and precious metals, shine and +sparkle on every side. A windlass slowly removes the front of the +altar; and, within it, in a gorgeous shrine of gold and silver, is +seen, through alabaster, the shrivelled mummy of a man: the +pontifical robes with which it is adorned, radiant with diamonds, +emeralds, rubies: every costly and magnificent gem. The shrunken +heap of poor earth in the midst of this great glitter, is more +pitiful than if it lay upon a dung-hill. There is not a ray of +imprisoned light in all the flash and fire of jewels, but seems to +mock the dusty holes where eyes were, once. Every thread of silk +in the rich vestments seems only a provision from the worms that +spin, for the behoof of worms that propagate in sepulchres. + +In the old refectory of the dilapidated Convent of Santa Maria +delle Grazie, is the work of art, perhaps, better known than any +other in the world: the Last Supper, by Leonardo da Vinci--with a +door cut through it by the intelligent Dominican friars, to +facilitate their operations at dinner-time. + +I am not mechanically acquainted with the art of painting, and have +no other means of judging of a picture than as I see it resembling +and refining upon nature, and presenting graceful combinations of +forms and colours. I am, therefore, no authority whatever, in +reference to the 'touch' of this or that master; though I know very +well (as anybody may, who chooses to think about the matter) that +few very great masters can possibly have painted, in the compass of +their lives, one-half of the pictures that bear their names, and +that are recognised by many aspirants to a reputation for taste, as +undoubted originals. But this, by the way. Of the Last Supper, I +would simply observe, that in its beautiful composition and +arrangement, there it is, at Milan, a wonderful picture; and that, +in its original colouring, or in its original expression of any +single face or feature, there it is not. Apart from the damage it +has sustained from damp, decay, or neglect, it has been (as Barry +shows) so retouched upon, and repainted, and that so clumsily, that +many of the heads are, now, positive deformities, with patches of +paint and plaster sticking upon them like wens, and utterly +distorting the expression. Where the original artist set that +impress of his genius on a face, which, almost in a line or touch, +separated him from meaner painters and made him what he was, +succeeding bunglers, filling up, or painting across seams and +cracks, have been quite unable to imitate his hand; and putting in +some scowls, or frowns, or wrinkles, of their own, have blotched +and spoiled the work. This is so well established as an historical +fact, that I should not repeat it, at the risk of being tedious, +but for having observed an English gentleman before the picture, +who was at great pains to fall into what I may describe as mild +convulsions, at certain minute details of expression which are not +left in it. Whereas, it would be comfortable and rational for +travellers and critics to arrive at a general understanding that it +cannot fail to have been a work of extraordinary merit, once: +when, with so few of its original beauties remaining, the grandeur +of the general design is yet sufficient to sustain it, as a piece +replete with interest and dignity. + +We achieved the other sights of Milan, in due course, and a fine +city it is, though not so unmistakably Italian as to possess the +characteristic qualities of many towns far less important in +themselves. The Corso, where the Milanese gentry ride up and down +in carriages, and rather than not do which, they would half starve +themselves at home, is a most noble public promenade, shaded by +long avenues of trees. In the splendid theatre of La Scala, there +was a ballet of action performed after the opera, under the title +of Prometheus: in the beginning of which, some hundred or two of +men and women represented our mortal race before the refinements of +the arts and sciences, and loves and graces, came on earth to +soften them. I never saw anything more effective. Generally +speaking, the pantomimic action of the Italians is more remarkable +for its sudden and impetuous character than for its delicate +expression, but, in this case, the drooping monotony: the weary, +miserable, listless, moping life: the sordid passions and desires +of human creatures, destitute of those elevating influences to +which we owe so much, and to whose promoters we render so little: +were expressed in a manner really powerful and affecting. I should +have thought it almost impossible to present such an idea so +strongly on the stage, without the aid of speech. + +Milan soon lay behind us, at five o'clock in the morning; and +before the golden statue on the summit of the cathedral spire was +lost in the blue sky, the Alps, stupendously confused in lofty +peaks and ridges, clouds and snow, were towering in our path. + +Still, we continued to advance toward them until nightfall; and, +all day long, the mountain tops presented strangely shifting +shapes, as the road displayed them in different points of view. +The beautiful day was just declining, when we came upon the Lago +Maggiore, with its lovely islands. For however fanciful and +fantastic the Isola Bella may be, and is, it still is beautiful. +Anything springing out of that blue water, with that scenery around +it, must be. + +It was ten o'clock at night when we got to Domo d'Ossola, at the +foot of the Pass of the Simplon. But as the moon was shining +brightly, and there was not a cloud in the starlit sky, it was no +time for going to bed, or going anywhere but on. So, we got a +little carriage, after some delay, and began the ascent. + +It was late in November; and the snow lying four or five feet thick +in the beaten road on the summit (in other parts the new drift was +already deep), the air was piercing cold. But, the serenity of the +night, and the grandeur of the road, with its impenetrable shadows, +and deep glooms, and its sudden turns into the shining of the moon +and its incessant roar of falling water, rendered the journey more +and more sublime at every step. + +Soon leaving the calm Italian villages below us, sleeping in the +moonlight, the road began to wind among dark trees, and after a +time emerged upon a barer region, very steep and toilsome, where +the moon shone bright and high. By degrees, the roar of water grew +louder; and the stupendous track, after crossing the torrent by a +bridge, struck in between two massive perpendicular walls of rock +that quite shut out the moonlight, and only left a few stars +shining in the narrow strip of sky above. Then, even this was +lost, in the thick darkness of a cavern in the rock, through which +the way was pierced; the terrible cataract thundering and roaring +close below it, and its foam and spray hanging, in a mist, about +the entrance. Emerging from this cave, and coming again into the +moonlight, and across a dizzy bridge, it crept and twisted upward, +through the Gorge of Gondo, savage and grand beyond description, +with smooth-fronted precipices, rising up on either hand, and +almost meeting overhead. Thus we went, climbing on our rugged way, +higher and higher all night, without a moment's weariness: lost in +the contemplation of the black rocks, the tremendous heights and +depths, the fields of smooth snow lying, in the clefts and hollows, +and the fierce torrents thundering headlong down the deep abyss. + +Towards daybreak, we came among the snow, where a keen wind was +blowing fiercely. Having, with some trouble, awakened the inmates +of a wooden house in this solitude: round which the wind was +howling dismally, catching up the snow in wreaths and hurling it +away: we got some breakfast in a room built of rough timbers, but +well warmed by a stove, and well contrived (as it had need to be) +for keeping out the bitter storms. A sledge being then made ready, +and four horses harnessed to it, we went, ploughing, through the +snow. Still upward, but now in the cold light of morning, and with +the great white desert on which we travelled, plain and clear. + +We were well upon the summit of the mountain: and had before us +the rude cross of wood, denoting its greatest altitude above the +sea: when the light of the rising sun, struck, all at once, upon +the waste of snow, and turned it a deep red. The lonely grandeur +of the scene was then at its height. + +As we went sledging on, there came out of the Hospice founded by +Napoleon, a group of Peasant travellers, with staves and knapsacks, +who had rested there last night: attended by a Monk or two, their +hospitable entertainers, trudging slowly forward with them, for +company's sake. It was pleasant to give them good morning, and +pretty, looking back a long way after them, to see them looking +back at us, and hesitating presently, when one of our horses +stumbled and fell, whether or no they should return and help us. +But he was soon up again, with the assistance of a rough waggoner +whose team had stuck fast there too; and when we had helped him out +of his difficulty, in return, we left him slowly ploughing towards +them, and went slowly and swiftly forward, on the brink of a steep +precipice, among the mountain pines. + +Taking to our wheels again, soon afterwards, we began rapidly to +descend; passing under everlasting glaciers, by means of arched +galleries, hung with clusters of dripping icicles; under and over +foaming waterfalls; near places of refuge, and galleries of shelter +against sudden danger; through caverns over whose arched roofs the +avalanches slide, in spring, and bury themselves in the unknown +gulf beneath. Down, over lofty bridges, and through horrible +ravines: a little shifting speck in the vast desolation of ice and +snow, and monstrous granite rocks; down through the deep Gorge of +the Saltine, and deafened by the torrent plunging madly down, among +the riven blocks of rock, into the level country, far below. +Gradually down, by zig-zag roads, lying between an upward and a +downward precipice, into warmer weather, calmer air, and softer +scenery, until there lay before us, glittering like gold or silver +in the thaw and sunshine, the metal-covered, red, green, yellow, +domes and church-spires of a Swiss town. + +The business of these recollections being with Italy, and my +business, consequently, being to scamper back thither as fast as +possible, I will not recall (though I am sorely tempted) how the +Swiss villages, clustered at the feet of Giant mountains, looked +like playthings; or how confusedly the houses were heaped and piled +together; or how there were very narrow streets to shut the howling +winds out in the winter-time; and broken bridges, which the +impetuous torrents, suddenly released in spring, had swept away. +Or how there were peasant women here, with great round fur caps: +looking, when they peeped out of casements and only their heads +were seen, like a population of Sword-bearers to the Lord Mayor of +London; or how the town of Vevey, lying on the smooth lake of +Geneva, was beautiful to see; or how the statue of Saint Peter in +the street at Fribourg, grasps the largest key that ever was +beheld; or how Fribourg is illustrious for its two suspension +bridges, and its grand cathedral organ. + +Or how, between that town and Bale, the road meandered among +thriving villages of wooden cottages, with overhanging thatched +roofs, and low protruding windows, glazed with small round panes of +glass like crown-pieces; or how, in every little Swiss homestead, +with its cart or waggon carefully stowed away beside the house, its +little garden, stock of poultry, and groups of red-cheeked +children, there was an air of comfort, very new and very pleasant +after Italy; or how the dresses of the women changed again, and +there were no more sword-bearers to be seen; and fair white +stomachers, and great black, fan-shaped, gauzy-looking caps, +prevailed instead. + +Or how the country by the Jura mountains, sprinkled with snow, and +lighted by the moon, and musical with falling water, was +delightful; or how, below the windows of the great hotel of the +Three Kings at Bale, the swollen Rhine ran fast and green; or how, +at Strasbourg, it was quite as fast but not as green: and was said +to be foggy lower down: and, at that late time of the year, was a +far less certain means of progress, than the highway road to Paris. + +Or how Strasbourg itself, in its magnificent old Gothic Cathedral, +and its ancient houses with their peaked roofs and gables, made a +little gallery of quaint and interesting views; or how a crowd was +gathered inside the cathedral at noon, to see the famous mechanical +clock in motion, striking twelve. How, when it struck twelve, a +whole army of puppets went through many ingenious evolutions; and, +among them, a huge puppet-cock, perched on the top, crowed twelve +times, loud and clear. Or how it was wonderful to see this cock at +great pains to clap its wings, and strain its throat; but obviously +having no connection whatever with its own voice; which was deep +within the clock, a long way down. + +Or how the road to Paris, was one sea of mud, and thence to the +coast, a little better for a hard frost. Or how the cliffs of +Dover were a pleasant sight, and England was so wonderfully neat-- +though dark, and lacking colour on a winter's day, it must be +conceded. + +Or how, a few days afterwards, it was cool, re-crossing the +channel, with ice upon the decks, and snow lying pretty deep in +France. Or how the Malle Poste scrambled through the snow, +headlong, drawn in the hilly parts by any number of stout horses at +a canter; or how there were, outside the Post-office Yard in Paris, +before daybreak, extraordinary adventurers in heaps of rags, +groping in the snowy streets with little rakes, in search of odds +and ends. + +Or how, between Paris and Marseilles, the snow being then exceeding +deep, a thaw came on, and the mail waded rather than rolled for the +next three hundred miles or so; breaking springs on Sunday nights, +and putting out its two passengers to warm and refresh themselves +pending the repairs, in miserable billiard-rooms, where hairy +company, collected about stoves, were playing cards; the cards +being very like themselves--extremely limp and dirty. + +Or how there was detention at Marseilles from stress of weather; +and steamers were advertised to go, which did not go; or how the +good Steam-packet Charlemagne at length put out, and met such +weather that now she threatened to run into Toulon, and now into +Nice, but, the wind moderating, did neither, but ran on into Genoa +harbour instead, where the familiar Bells rang sweetly in my ear. +Or how there was a travelling party on board, of whom one member +was very ill in the cabin next to mine, and being ill was cross, +and therefore declined to give up the Dictionary, which he kept +under his pillow; thereby obliging his companions to come down to +him, constantly, to ask what was the Italian for a lump of sugar--a +glass of brandy and water--what's o'clock? and so forth: which he +always insisted on looking out, with his own sea-sick eyes, +declining to entrust the book to any man alive. + +Like GRUMIO, I might have told you, in detail, all this and +something more--but to as little purpose--were I not deterred by +the remembrance that my business is with Italy. Therefore, like +GRUMIO'S story, 'it shall die in oblivion.' + + + +CHAPTER IX--TO ROME BY PISA AND SIENA + + + +There is nothing in Italy, more beautiful to me, than the coast- +road between Genoa and Spezzia. On one side: sometimes far below, +sometimes nearly on a level with the road, and often skirted by +broken rocks of many shapes: there is the free blue sea, with here +and there a picturesque felucca gliding slowly on; on the other +side are lofty hills, ravines besprinkled with white cottages, +patches of dark olive woods, country churches with their light open +towers, and country houses gaily painted. On every bank and knoll +by the wayside, the wild cactus and aloe flourish in exuberant +profusion; and the gardens of the bright villages along the road, +are seen, all blushing in the summer-time with clusters of the +Belladonna, and are fragrant in the autumn and winter with golden +oranges and lemons. + +Some of the villages are inhabited, almost exclusively, by +fishermen; and it is pleasant to see their great boats hauled up on +the beach, making little patches of shade, where they lie asleep, +or where the women and children sit romping and looking out to sea, +while they mend their nets upon the shore. There is one town, +Camoglia, with its little harbour on the sea, hundreds of feet +below the road; where families of mariners live, who, time out of +mind, have owned coasting-vessels in that place, and have traded to +Spain and elsewhere. Seen from the road above, it is like a tiny +model on the margin of the dimpled water, shining in the sun. +Descended into, by the winding mule-tracks, it is a perfect +miniature of a primitive seafaring town; the saltest, roughest, +most piratical little place that ever was seen. Great rusty iron +rings and mooring-chains, capstans, and fragments of old masts and +spars, choke up the way; hardy rough-weather boats, and seamen's +clothing, flutter in the little harbour or are drawn out on the +sunny stones to dry; on the parapet of the rude pier, a few +amphibious-looking fellows lie asleep, with their legs dangling +over the wall, as though earth or water were all one to them, and +if they slipped in, they would float away, dozing comfortably among +the fishes; the church is bright with trophies of the sea, and +votive offerings, in commemoration of escape from storm and +shipwreck. The dwellings not immediately abutting on the harbour +are approached by blind low archways, and by crooked steps, as if +in darkness and in difficulty of access they should be like holds +of ships, or inconvenient cabins under water; and everywhere, there +is a smell of fish, and sea-weed, and old rope. + +The coast-road whence Camoglia is descried so far below, is famous, +in the warm season, especially in some parts near Genoa, for fire- +flies. Walking there on a dark night, I have seen it made one +sparkling firmament by these beautiful insects: so that the +distant stars were pale against the flash and glitter that spangled +every olive wood and hill-side, and pervaded the whole air. + +It was not in such a season, however, that we traversed this road +on our way to Rome. The middle of January was only just past, and +it was very gloomy and dark weather; very wet besides. In crossing +the fine pass of Bracco, we encountered such a storm of mist and +rain, that we travelled in a cloud the whole way. There might have +been no Mediterranean in the world, for anything that we saw of it +there, except when a sudden gust of wind, clearing the mist before +it, for a moment, showed the agitated sea at a great depth below, +lashing the distant rocks, and spouting up its foam furiously. The +rain was incessant; every brook and torrent was greatly swollen; +and such a deafening leaping, and roaring, and thundering of water, +I never heard the like of in my life. + +Hence, when we came to Spezzia, we found that the Magra, an +unbridged river on the high-road to Pisa, was too high to be safely +crossed in the Ferry Boat, and were fain to wait until the +afternoon of next day, when it had, in some degree, subsided. +Spezzia, however, is a good place to tarry at; by reason, firstly, +of its beautiful bay; secondly, of its ghostly Inn; thirdly, of the +head-dress of the women, who wear, on one side of their head, a +small doll's straw hat, stuck on to the hair; which is certainly +the oddest and most roguish head-gear that ever was invented. + +The Magra safely crossed in the Ferry Boat--the passage is not by +any means agreeable, when the current is swollen and strong--we +arrived at Carrara, within a few hours. In good time next morning, +we got some ponies, and went out to see the marble quarries. + +They are four or five great glens, running up into a range of lofty +hills, until they can run no longer, and are stopped by being +abruptly strangled by Nature. The quarries, 'or caves,' as they +call them there, are so many openings, high up in the hills, on +either side of these passes, where they blast and excavate for +marble: which may turn out good or bad: may make a man's fortune +very quickly, or ruin him by the great expense of working what is +worth nothing. Some of these caves were opened by the ancient +Romans, and remain as they left them to this hour. Many others are +being worked at this moment; others are to be begun to-morrow, next +week, next month; others are unbought, unthought of; and marble +enough for more ages than have passed since the place was resorted +to, lies hidden everywhere: patiently awaiting its time of +discovery. + +As you toil and clamber up one of these steep gorges (having left +your pony soddening his girths in water, a mile or two lower down) +you hear, every now and then, echoing among the hills, in a low +tone, more silent than the previous silence, a melancholy warning +bugle,--a signal to the miners to withdraw. Then, there is a +thundering, and echoing from hill to hill, and perhaps a splashing +up of great fragments of rock into the air; and on you toil again +until some other bugle sounds, in a new direction, and you stop +directly, lest you should come within the range of the new +explosion. + +There were numbers of men, working high up in these hills--on the +sides--clearing away, and sending down the broken masses of stone +and earth, to make way for the blocks of marble that had been +discovered. As these came rolling down from unseen hands into the +narrow valley, I could not help thinking of the deep glen (just the +same sort of glen) where the Roc left Sindbad the Sailor; and where +the merchants from the heights above, flung down great pieces of +meat for the diamonds to stick to. There were no eagles here, to +darken the sun in their swoop, and pounce upon them; but it was as +wild and fierce as if there had been hundreds. + +But the road, the road down which the marble comes, however immense +the blocks! The genius of the country, and the spirit of its +institutions, pave that road: repair it, watch it, keep it going! +Conceive a channel of water running over a rocky bed, beset with +great heaps of stone of all shapes and sizes, winding down the +middle of this valley; and THAT being the road--because it was the +road five hundred years ago! Imagine the clumsy carts of five +hundred years ago, being used to this hour, and drawn, as they used +to be, five hundred years ago, by oxen, whose ancestors were worn +to death five hundred years ago, as their unhappy descendants are +now, in twelve months, by the suffering and agony of this cruel +work! Two pair, four pair, ten pair, twenty pair, to one block, +according to its size; down it must come, this way. In their +struggling from stone to stone, with their enormous loads behind +them, they die frequently upon the spot; and not they alone; for +their passionate drivers, sometimes tumbling down in their energy, +are crushed to death beneath the wheels. But it was good five +hundred years ago, and it must be good now: and a railroad down +one of these steeps (the easiest thing in the world) would be flat +blasphemy. + +When we stood aside, to see one of these cars drawn by only a pair +of oxen (for it had but one small block of marble on it), coming +down, I hailed, in my heart, the man who sat upon the heavy yoke, +to keep it on the neck of the poor beasts--and who faced backwards: +not before him--as the very Devil of true despotism. He had a +great rod in his hand, with an iron point; and when they could +plough and force their way through the loose bed of the torrent no +longer, and came to a stop, he poked it into their bodies, beat it +on their heads, screwed it round and round in their nostrils, got +them on a yard or two, in the madness of intense pain; repeated all +these persuasions, with increased intensity of purpose, when they +stopped again; got them on, once more; forced and goaded them to an +abrupter point of the descent; and when their writhing and +smarting, and the weight behind them, bore them plunging down the +precipice in a cloud of scattered water, whirled his rod above his +head, and gave a great whoop and hallo, as if he had achieved +something, and had no idea that they might shake him off, and +blindly mash his brains upon the road, in the noontide of his +triumph. + +Standing in one of the many studii of Carrara, that afternoon--for +it is a great workshop, full of beautifully-finished copies in +marble, of almost every figure, group, and bust, we know--it +seemed, at first, so strange to me that those exquisite shapes, +replete with grace, and thought, and delicate repose, should grow +out of all this toil, and sweat, and torture! But I soon found a +parallel to it, and an explanation of it, in every virtue that +springs up in miserable ground, and every good thing that has its +birth in sorrow and distress. And, looking out of the sculptor's +great window, upon the marble mountains, all red and glowing in the +decline of day, but stern and solemn to the last, I thought, my +God! how many quarries of human hearts and souls, capable of far +more beautiful results, are left shut up and mouldering away: +while pleasure-travellers through life, avert their faces, as they +pass, and shudder at the gloom and ruggedness that conceal them! + +The then reigning Duke of Modena, to whom this territory in part +belonged, claimed the proud distinction of being the only sovereign +in Europe who had not recognised Louis-Philippe as King of the +French! He was not a wag, but quite in earnest. He was also much +opposed to railroads; and if certain lines in contemplation by +other potentates, on either side of him, had been executed, would +have probably enjoyed the satisfaction of having an omnibus plying +to and fro across his not very vast dominions, to forward +travellers from one terminus to another. + +Carrara, shut in by great hills, is very picturesque and bold. Few +tourists stay there; and the people are nearly all connected, in +one way or other, with the working of marble. There are also +villages among the caves, where the workmen live. It contains a +beautiful little Theatre, newly built; and it is an interesting +custom there, to form the chorus of labourers in the marble +quarries, who are self-taught and sing by ear. I heard them in a +comic opera, and in an act of 'Norma;' and they acquitted +themselves very well; unlike the common people of Italy generally, +who (with some exceptions among the Neapolitans) sing vilely out of +tune, and have very disagreeable singing voices. + +From the summit of a lofty hill beyond Carrara, the first view of +the fertile plain in which the town of Pisa lies--with Leghorn, a +purple spot in the flat distance--is enchanting. Nor is it only +distance that lends enchantment to the view; for the fruitful +country, and rich woods of olive-trees through which the road +subsequently passes, render it delightful. + +The moon was shining when we approached Pisa, and for a long time +we could see, behind the wall, the leaning Tower, all awry in the +uncertain light; the shadowy original of the old pictures in +school-books, setting forth 'The Wonders of the World.' Like most +things connected in their first associations with school-books and +school-times, it was too small. I felt it keenly. It was nothing +like so high above the wall as I had hoped. It was another of the +many deceptions practised by Mr. Harris, Bookseller, at the corner +of St. Paul's Churchyard, London. HIS Tower was a fiction, but +this was a reality--and, by comparison, a short reality. Still, it +looked very well, and very strange, and was quite as much out of +the perpendicular as Harris had represented it to be. The quiet +air of Pisa too; the big guard-house at the gate, with only two +little soldiers in it; the streets with scarcely any show of people +in them; and the Arno, flowing quaintly through the centre of the +town; were excellent. So, I bore no malice in my heart against Mr. +Harris (remembering his good intentions), but forgave him before +dinner, and went out, full of confidence, to see the Tower next +morning. + +I might have known better; but, somehow, I had expected to see it, +casting its long shadow on a public street where people came and +went all day. It was a surprise to me to find it in a grave +retired place, apart from the general resort, and carpeted with +smooth green turf. But, the group of buildings, clustered on and +about this verdant carpet: comprising the Tower, the Baptistery, +the Cathedral, and the Church of the Campo Santo: is perhaps the +most remarkable and beautiful in the whole world; and from being +clustered there, together, away from the ordinary transactions and +details of the town, they have a singularly venerable and +impressive character. It is the architectural essence of a rich +old city, with all its common life and common habitations pressed +out, and filtered away. + +SIMOND compares the Tower to the usual pictorial representations in +children's books of the Tower of Babel. It is a happy simile, and +conveys a better idea of the building than chapters of laboured +description. Nothing can exceed the grace and lightness of the +structure; nothing can be more remarkable than its general +appearance. In the course of the ascent to the top (which is by an +easy staircase), the inclination is not very apparent; but, at the +summit, it becomes so, and gives one the sensation of being in a +ship that has heeled over, through the action of an ebb-tide. The +effect UPON THE LOW SIDE, so to speak--looking over from the +gallery, and seeing the shaft recede to its base--is very +startling; and I saw a nervous traveller hold on to the Tower +involuntarily, after glancing down, as if he had some idea of +propping it up. The view within, from the ground--looking up, as +through a slanted tube--is also very curious. It certainly +inclines as much as the most sanguine tourist could desire. The +natural impulse of ninety-nine people out of a hundred, who were +about to recline upon the grass below it, to rest, and contemplate +the adjacent buildings, would probably be, not to take up their +position under the leaning side; it is so very much aslant. + +The manifold beauties of the Cathedral and Baptistery need no +recapitulation from me; though in this case, as in a hundred +others, I find it difficult to separate my own delight in recalling +them, from your weariness in having them recalled. There is a +picture of St. Agnes, by Andrea del Sarto, in the former, and there +are a variety of rich columns in the latter, that tempt me +strongly. + +It is, I hope, no breach of my resolution not to be tempted into +elaborate descriptions, to remember the Campo Santo; where grass- +grown graves are dug in earth brought more than six hundred years +ago, from the Holy Land; and where there are, surrounding them, +such cloisters, with such playing lights and shadows falling +through their delicate tracery on the stone pavement, as surely the +dullest memory could never forget. On the walls of this solemn and +lovely place, are ancient frescoes, very much obliterated and +decayed, but very curious. As usually happens in almost any +collection of paintings, of any sort, in Italy, where there are +many heads, there is, in one of them, a striking accidental +likeness of Napoleon. At one time, I used to please my fancy with +the speculation whether these old painters, at their work, had a +foreboding knowledge of the man who would one day arise to wreak +such destruction upon art: whose soldiers would make targets of +great pictures, and stable their horses among triumphs of +architecture. But the same Corsican face is so plentiful in some +parts of Italy at this day, that a more commonplace solution of the +coincidence is unavoidable. + +If Pisa be the seventh wonder of the world in right of its Tower, +it may claim to be, at least, the second or third in right of its +beggars. They waylay the unhappy visitor at every turn, escort him +to every door he enters at, and lie in wait for him, with strong +reinforcements, at every door by which they know he must come out. +The grating of the portal on its hinges is the signal for a general +shout, and the moment he appears, he is hemmed in, and fallen on, +by heaps of rags and personal distortions. The beggars seem to +embody all the trade and enterprise of Pisa. Nothing else is +stirring, but warm air. Going through the streets, the fronts of +the sleepy houses look like backs. They are all so still and +quiet, and unlike houses with people in them, that the greater part +of the city has the appearance of a city at daybreak, or during a +general siesta of the population. Or it is yet more like those +backgrounds of houses in common prints, or old engravings, where +windows and doors are squarely indicated, and one figure (a beggar +of course) is seen walking off by itself into illimitable +perspective. + +Not so Leghorn (made illustrious by SMOLLETT'S grave), which is a +thriving, business-like, matter-of-fact place, where idleness is +shouldered out of the way by commerce. The regulations observed +there, in reference to trade and merchants, are very liberal and +free; and the town, of course, benefits by them. Leghorn had a bad +name in connection with stabbers, and with some justice it must be +allowed; for, not many years ago, there was an assassination club +there, the members of which bore no ill-will to anybody in +particular, but stabbed people (quite strangers to them) in the +streets at night, for the pleasure and excitement of the +recreation. I think the president of this amiable society was a +shoemaker. He was taken, however, and the club was broken up. It +would, probably, have disappeared in the natural course of events, +before the railroad between Leghorn and Pisa, which is a good one, +and has already begun to astonish Italy with a precedent of +punctuality, order, plain dealing, and improvement--the most +dangerous and heretical astonisher of all. There must have been a +slight sensation, as of earthquake, surely, in the Vatican, when +the first Italian railroad was thrown open. + +Returning to Pisa, and hiring a good-tempered Vetturino, and his +four horses, to take us on to Rome, we travelled through pleasant +Tuscan villages and cheerful scenery all day. The roadside crosses +in this part of Italy are numerous and curious. There is seldom a +figure on the cross, though there is sometimes a face, but they are +remarkable for being garnished with little models in wood, of every +possible object that can be connected with the Saviour's death. +The cock that crowed when Peter had denied his Master thrice, is +usually perched on the tip-top; and an ornithological phenomenon he +generally is. Under him, is the inscription. Then, hung on to the +cross-beam, are the spear, the reed with the sponge of vinegar and +water at the end, the coat without seam for which the soldiers cast +lots, the dice-box with which they threw for it, the hammer that +drove in the nails, the pincers that pulled them out, the ladder +which was set against the cross, the crown of thorns, the +instrument of flagellation, the lanthorn with which Mary went to +the tomb (I suppose), and the sword with which Peter smote the +servant of the high priest,--a perfect toy-shop of little objects, +repeated at every four or five miles, all along the highway. + +On the evening of the second day from Pisa, we reached the +beautiful old city of Siena. There was what they called a +Carnival, in progress; but, as its secret lay in a score or two of +melancholy people walking up and down the principal street in +common toy-shop masks, and being more melancholy, if possible, than +the same sort of people in England, I say no more of it. We went +off, betimes next morning, to see the Cathedral, which is +wonderfully picturesque inside and out, especially the latter--also +the market-place, or great Piazza, which is a large square, with a +great broken-nosed fountain in it: some quaint Gothic houses: and +a high square brick tower; OUTSIDE the top of which--a curious +feature in such views in Italy--hangs an enormous bell. It is like +a bit of Venice, without the water. There are some curious old +Palazzi in the town, which is very ancient; and without having (for +me) the interest of Verona, or Genoa, it is very dreamy and +fantastic, and most interesting. + +We went on again, as soon as we had seen these things, and going +over a rather bleak country (there had been nothing but vines until +now: mere walking-sticks at that season of the year), stopped, as +usual, between one and two hours in the middle of the day, to rest +the horses; that being a part of every Vetturino contract. We then +went on again, through a region gradually becoming bleaker and +wilder, until it became as bare and desolate as any Scottish moors. +Soon after dark, we halted for the night, at the osteria of La +Scala: a perfectly lone house, where the family were sitting round +a great fire in the kitchen, raised on a stone platform three or +four feet high, and big enough for the roasting of an ox. On the +upper, and only other floor of this hotel, there was a great, wild, +rambling sala, with one very little window in a by-corner, and four +black doors opening into four black bedrooms in various directions. +To say nothing of another large black door, opening into another +large black sala, with the staircase coming abruptly through a kind +of trap-door in the floor, and the rafters of the roof looming +above: a suspicious little press skulking in one obscure corner: +and all the knives in the house lying about in various directions. +The fireplace was of the purest Italian architecture, so that it +was perfectly impossible to see it for the smoke. The waitress was +like a dramatic brigand's wife, and wore the same style of dress +upon her head. The dogs barked like mad; the echoes returned the +compliments bestowed upon them; there was not another house within +twelve miles; and things had a dreary, and rather a cut-throat, +appearance. + +They were not improved by rumours of robbers having come out, +strong and boldly, within a few nights; and of their having stopped +the mail very near that place. They were known to have waylaid +some travellers not long before, on Mount Vesuvius itself, and were +the talk at all the roadside inns. As they were no business of +ours, however (for we had very little with us to lose), we made +ourselves merry on the subject, and were very soon as comfortable +as need be. We had the usual dinner in this solitary house; and a +very good dinner it is, when you are used to it. There is +something with a vegetable or some rice in it which is a sort of +shorthand or arbitrary character for soup, and which tastes very +well, when you have flavoured it with plenty of grated cheese, lots +of salt, and abundance of pepper. There is the half fowl of which +this soup has been made. There is a stewed pigeon, with the +gizzards and livers of himself and other birds stuck all round him. +There is a bit of roast beef, the size of a small French roll. +There are a scrap of Parmesan cheese, and five little withered +apples, all huddled together on a small plate, and crowding one +upon the other, as if each were trying to save itself from the +chance of being eaten. Then there is coffee; and then there is +bed. You don't mind brick floors; you don't mind yawning doors, +nor banging windows; you don't mind your own horses being stabled +under the bed: and so close, that every time a horse coughs or +sneezes, he wakes you. If you are good-humoured to the people +about you, and speak pleasantly, and look cheerful, take my word +for it you may be well entertained in the very worst Italian Inn, +and always in the most obliging manner, and may go from one end of +the country to the other (despite all stories to the contrary) +without any great trial of your patience anywhere. Especially, +when you get such wine in flasks, as the Orvieto, and the Monte +Pulciano. + +It was a bad morning when we left this place; and we went, for +twelve miles, over a country as barren, as stony, and as wild, as +Cornwall in England, until we came to Radicofani, where there is a +ghostly, goblin inn: once a hunting-seat, belonging to the Dukes +of Tuscany. It is full of such rambling corridors, and gaunt +rooms, that all the murdering and phantom tales that ever were +written might have originated in that one house. There are some +horrible old Palazzi in Genoa: one in particular, not unlike it, +outside: but there is a winding, creaking, wormy, rustling, door- +opening, foot-on-staircase-falling character about this Radicofani +Hotel, such as I never saw, anywhere else. The town, such as it +is, hangs on a hill-side above the house, and in front of it. The +inhabitants are all beggars; and as soon as they see a carriage +coming, they swoop down upon it, like so many birds of prey. + +When we got on the mountain pass, which lies beyond this place, the +wind (as they had forewarned us at the inn) was so terrific, that +we were obliged to take my other half out of the carriage, lest she +should be blown over, carriage and all, and to hang to it, on the +windy side (as well as we could for laughing), to prevent its +going, Heaven knows where. For mere force of wind, this land-storm +might have competed with an Atlantic gale, and had a reasonable +chance of coming off victorious. The blast came sweeping down +great gullies in a range of mountains on the right: so that we +looked with positive awe at a great morass on the left, and saw +that there was not a bush or twig to hold by. It seemed as if, +once blown from our feet, we must be swept out to sea, or away into +space. There was snow, and hail, and rain, and lightning, and +thunder; and there were rolling mists, travelling with incredible +velocity. It was dark, awful, and solitary to the last degree; +there were mountains above mountains, veiled in angry clouds; and +there was such a wrathful, rapid, violent, tumultuous hurry, +everywhere, as rendered the scene unspeakably exciting and grand. + +It was a relief to get out of it, notwithstanding; and to cross +even the dismal, dirty Papal Frontier. After passing through two +little towns; in one of which, Acquapendente, there was also a +'Carnival' in progress: consisting of one man dressed and masked +as a woman, and one woman dressed and masked as a man, walking +ankle-deep, through the muddy streets, in a very melancholy manner: +we came, at dusk, within sight of the Lake of Bolsena, on whose +bank there is a little town of the same name, much celebrated for +malaria. With the exception of this poor place, there is not a +cottage on the banks of the lake, or near it (for nobody dare sleep +there); not a boat upon its waters; not a stick or stake to break +the dismal monotony of seven-and-twenty watery miles. We were late +in getting in, the roads being very bad from heavy rains; and, +after dark, the dulness of the scene was quite intolerable. + +We entered on a very different, and a finer scene of desolation, +next night, at sunset. We had passed through Montefiaschone +(famous for its wine) and Viterbo (for its fountains): and after +climbing up a long hill of eight or ten miles' extent, came +suddenly upon the margin of a solitary lake: in one part very +beautiful, with a luxuriant wood; in another, very barren, and shut +in by bleak volcanic hills. Where this lake flows, there stood, of +old, a city. It was swallowed up one day; and in its stead, this +water rose. There are ancient traditions (common to many parts of +the world) of the ruined city having been seen below, when the +water was clear; but however that may be, from this spot of earth +it vanished. The ground came bubbling up above it; and the water +too; and here they stand, like ghosts on whom the other world +closed suddenly, and who have no means of getting back again. They +seem to be waiting the course of ages, for the next earthquake in +that place; when they will plunge below the ground, at its first +yawning, and be seen no more. The unhappy city below, is not more +lost and dreary, than these fire-charred hills and the stagnant +water, above. The red sun looked strangely on them, as with the +knowledge that they were made for caverns and darkness; and the +melancholy water oozed and sucked the mud, and crept quietly among +the marshy grass and reeds, as if the overthrow of all the ancient +towers and housetops, and the death of all the ancient people born +and bred there, were yet heavy on its conscience. + +A short ride from this lake, brought us to Ronciglione; a little +town like a large pig-sty, where we passed the night. Next morning +at seven o'clock, we started for Rome. + +As soon as we were out of the pig-sty, we entered on the Campagna +Romana; an undulating flat (as you know), where few people can +live; and where, for miles and miles, there is nothing to relieve +the terrible monotony and gloom. Of all kinds of country that +could, by possibility, lie outside the gates of Rome, this is the +aptest and fittest burial-ground for the Dead City. So sad, so +quiet, so sullen; so secret in its covering up of great masses of +ruin, and hiding them; so like the waste places into which the men +possessed with devils used to go and howl, and rend themselves, in +the old days of Jerusalem. We had to traverse thirty miles of this +Campagna; and for two-and-twenty we went on and on, seeing nothing +but now and then a lonely house, or a villainous-looking shepherd: +with matted hair all over his face, and himself wrapped to the chin +in a frowsy brown mantle, tending his sheep. At the end of that +distance, we stopped to refresh the horses, and to get some lunch, +in a common malaria-shaken, despondent little public-house, whose +every inch of wall and beam, inside, was (according to custom) +painted and decorated in a way so miserable that every room looked +like the wrong side of another room, and, with its wretched +imitation of drapery, and lop-sided little daubs of lyres, seemed +to have been plundered from behind the scenes of some travelling +circus. + +When we were fairly going off again, we began, in a perfect fever, +to strain our eyes for Rome; and when, after another mile or two, +the Eternal City appeared, at length, in the distance; it looked +like--I am half afraid to write the word--like LONDON!!! There it +lay, under a thick cloud, with innumerable towers, and steeples, +and roofs of houses, rising up into the sky, and high above them +all, one Dome. I swear, that keenly as I felt the seeming +absurdity of the comparison, it was so like London, at that +distance, that if you could have shown it me, in a glass, I should +have taken it for nothing else. + + + +CHAPTER X--ROME + + + +We entered the Eternal City, at about four o'clock in the +afternoon, on the thirtieth of January, by the Porta del Popolo, +and came immediately--it was a dark, muddy day, and there had been +heavy rain--on the skirts of the Carnival. We did not, then, know +that we were only looking at the fag end of the masks, who were +driving slowly round and round the Piazza until they could find a +promising opportunity for falling into the stream of carriages, and +getting, in good time, into the thick of the festivity; and coming +among them so abruptly, all travel-stained and weary, was not +coming very well prepared to enjoy the scene. + +We had crossed the Tiber by the Ponte Molle two or three miles +before. It had looked as yellow as it ought to look, and hurrying +on between its worn-away and miry banks, had a promising aspect of +desolation and ruin. The masquerade dresses on the fringe of the +Carnival, did great violence to this promise. There were no great +ruins, no solemn tokens of antiquity, to be seen;--they all lie on +the other side of the city. There seemed to be long streets of +commonplace shops and houses, such as are to be found in any +European town; there were busy people, equipages, ordinary walkers +to and fro; a multitude of chattering strangers. It was no more MY +Rome: the Rome of anybody's fancy, man or boy; degraded and fallen +and lying asleep in the sun among a heap of ruins: than the Place +de la Concorde in Paris is. A cloudy sky, a dull cold rain, and +muddy streets, I was prepared for, but not for this: and I confess +to having gone to bed, that night, in a very indifferent humour, +and with a very considerably quenched enthusiasm. + +Immediately on going out next day, we hurried off to St. Peter's. +It looked immense in the distance, but distinctly and decidedly +small, by comparison, on a near approach. The beauty of the +Piazza, on which it stands, with its clusters of exquisite columns, +and its gushing fountains--so fresh, so broad, and free, and +beautiful--nothing can exaggerate. The first burst of the +interior, in all its expansive majesty and glory: and, most of +all, the looking up into the Dome: is a sensation never to be +forgotten. But, there were preparations for a Festa; the pillars +of stately marble were swathed in some impertinent frippery of red +and yellow; the altar, and entrance to the subterranean chapel: +which is before it: in the centre of the church: were like a +goldsmith's shop, or one of the opening scenes in a very lavish +pantomime. And though I had as high a sense of the beauty of the +building (I hope) as it is possible to entertain, I felt no very +strong emotion. I have been infinitely more affected in many +English cathedrals when the organ has been playing, and in many +English country churches when the congregation have been singing. +I had a much greater sense of mystery and wonder, in the Cathedral +of San Mark at Venice. + +When we came out of the church again (we stood nearly an hour +staring up into the dome: and would not have 'gone over' the +Cathedral then, for any money), we said to the coachman, 'Go to the +Coliseum.' In a quarter of an hour or so, he stopped at the gate, +and we went in. + +It is no fiction, but plain, sober, honest Truth, to say: so +suggestive and distinct is it at this hour: that, for a moment-- +actually in passing in--they who will, may have the whole great +pile before them, as it used to be, with thousands of eager faces +staring down into the arena, and such a whirl of strife, and blood, +and dust going on there, as no language can describe. Its +solitude, its awful beauty, and its utter desolation, strike upon +the stranger the next moment, like a softened sorrow; and never in +his life, perhaps, will he be so moved and overcome by any sight, +not immediately connected with his own affections and afflictions. + +To see it crumbling there, an inch a year; its walls and arches +overgrown with green; its corridors open to the day; the long grass +growing in its porches; young trees of yesterday, springing up on +its ragged parapets, and bearing fruit: chance produce of the +seeds dropped there by the birds who build their nests within its +chinks and crannies; to see its Pit of Fight filled up with earth, +and the peaceful Cross planted in the centre; to climb into its +upper halls, and look down on ruin, ruin, ruin, all about it; the +triumphal arches of Constantine, Septimus Severus, and Titus; the +Roman Forum; the Palace of the Caesars; the temples of the old +religion, fallen down and gone; is to see the ghost of old Rome, +wicked, wonderful old city, haunting the very ground on which its +people trod. It is the most impressive, the most stately, the most +solemn, grand, majestic, mournful sight, conceivable. Never, in +its bloodiest prime, can the sight of the gigantic Coliseum, full +and running over with the lustiest life, have moved one's heart, as +it must move all who look upon it now, a ruin. GOD be thanked: a +ruin! + +As it tops the other ruins: standing there, a mountain among +graves: so do its ancient influences outlive all other remnants of +the old mythology and old butchery of Rome, in the nature of the +fierce and cruel Roman people. The Italian face changes as the +visitor approaches the city; its beauty becomes devilish; and there +is scarcely one countenance in a hundred, among the common people +in the streets, that would not be at home and happy in a renovated +Coliseum to-morrow. + +Here was Rome indeed at last; and such a Rome as no one can imagine +in its full and awful grandeur! We wandered out upon the Appian +Way, and then went on, through miles of ruined tombs and broken +walls, with here and there a desolate and uninhabited house: past +the Circus of Romulus, where the course of the chariots, the +stations of the judges, competitors, and spectators, are yet as +plainly to be seen as in old time: past the tomb of Cecilia +Metella: past all inclosure, hedge, or stake, wall or fence: away +upon the open Campagna, where on that side of Rome, nothing is to +be beheld but Ruin. Except where the distant Apennines bound the +view upon the left, the whole wide prospect is one field of ruin. +Broken aqueducts, left in the most picturesque and beautiful +clusters of arches; broken temples; broken tombs. A desert of +decay, sombre and desolate beyond all expression; and with a +history in every stone that strews the ground. + + +On Sunday, the Pope assisted in the performance of High Mass at St. +Peter's. The effect of the Cathedral on my mind, on that second +visit, was exactly what it was at first, and what it remains after +many visits. It is not religiously impressive or affecting. It is +an immense edifice, with no one point for the mind to rest upon; +and it tires itself with wandering round and round. The very +purpose of the place, is not expressed in anything you see there, +unless you examine its details--and all examination of details is +incompatible with the place itself. It might be a Pantheon, or a +Senate House, or a great architectural trophy, having no other +object than an architectural triumph. There is a black statue of +St. Peter, to be sure, under a red canopy; which is larger than +life and which is constantly having its great toe kissed by good +Catholics. You cannot help seeing that: it is so very prominent +and popular. But it does not heighten the effect of the temple, as +a work of art; and it is not expressive--to me at least--of its +high purpose. + +A large space behind the altar, was fitted up with boxes, shaped +like those at the Italian Opera in England, but in their decoration +much more gaudy. In the centre of the kind of theatre thus railed +off, was a canopied dais with the Pope's chair upon it. The +pavement was covered with a carpet of the brightest green; and what +with this green, and the intolerable reds and crimsons, and gold +borders of the hangings, the whole concern looked like a stupendous +Bonbon. On either side of the altar, was a large box for lady +strangers. These were filled with ladies in black dresses and +black veils. The gentlemen of the Pope's guard, in red coats, +leather breeches, and jack-boots, guarded all this reserved space, +with drawn swords that were very flashy in every sense; and from +the altar all down the nave, a broad lane was kept clear by the +Pope's Swiss guard, who wear a quaint striped surcoat, and striped +tight legs, and carry halberds like those which are usually +shouldered by those theatrical supernumeraries, who never CAN get +off the stage fast enough, and who may be generally observed to +linger in the enemy's camp after the open country, held by the +opposite forces, has been split up the middle by a convulsion of +Nature. + +I got upon the border of the green carpet, in company with a great +many other gentlemen, attired in black (no other passport is +necessary), and stood there at my ease, during the performance of +Mass. The singers were in a crib of wirework (like a large meat- +safe or bird-cage) in one corner; and sang most atrociously. All +about the green carpet, there was a slowly moving crowd of people: +talking to each other: staring at the Pope through eye-glasses; +defrauding one another, in moments of partial curiosity, out of +precarious seats on the bases of pillars: and grinning hideously +at the ladies. Dotted here and there, were little knots of friars +(Frances-cani, or Cappuccini, in their coarse brown dresses and +peaked hoods) making a strange contrast to the gaudy ecclesiastics +of higher degree, and having their humility gratified to the +utmost, by being shouldered about, and elbowed right and left, on +all sides. Some of these had muddy sandals and umbrellas, and +stained garments: having trudged in from the country. The faces +of the greater part were as coarse and heavy as their dress; their +dogged, stupid, monotonous stare at all the glory and splendour, +having something in it, half miserable, and half ridiculous. + +Upon the green carpet itself, and gathered round the altar, was a +perfect army of cardinals and priests, in red, gold, purple, +violet, white, and fine linen. Stragglers from these, went to and +fro among the crowd, conversing two and two, or giving and +receiving introductions, and exchanging salutations; other +functionaries in black gowns, and other functionaries in court- +dresses, were similarly engaged. In the midst of all these, and +stealthy Jesuits creeping in and out, and the extreme restlessness +of the Youth of England, who were perpetually wandering about, some +few steady persons in black cassocks, who had knelt down with their +faces to the wall, and were poring over their missals, became, +unintentionally, a sort of humane man-traps, and with their own +devout legs, tripped up other people's by the dozen. + +There was a great pile of candles lying down on the floor near me, +which a very old man in a rusty black gown with an open-work +tippet, like a summer ornament for a fireplace in tissue-paper, +made himself very busy in dispensing to all the ecclesiastics: one +a-piece. They loitered about with these for some time, under their +arms like walking-sticks, or in their hands like truncheons. At a +certain period of the ceremony, however, each carried his candle up +to the Pope, laid it across his two knees to be blessed, took it +back again, and filed off. This was done in a very attenuated +procession, as you may suppose, and occupied a long time. Not +because it takes long to bless a candle through and through, but +because there were so many candles to be blessed. At last they +were all blessed: and then they were all lighted; and then the +Pope was taken up, chair and all, and carried round the church. + +I must say, that I never saw anything, out of November, so like the +popular English commemoration of the fifth of that month. A bundle +of matches and a lantern, would have made it perfect. Nor did the +Pope, himself, at all mar the resemblance, though he has a pleasant +and venerable face; for, as this part of the ceremony makes him +giddy and sick, he shuts his eyes when it is performed: and having +his eyes shut and a great mitre on his head, and his head itself +wagging to and fro as they shook him in carrying, he looked as if +his mask were going to tumble off. The two immense fans which are +always borne, one on either side of him, accompanied him, of +course, on this occasion. As they carried him along, he blessed +the people with the mystic sign; and as he passed them, they +kneeled down. When he had made the round of the church, he was +brought back again, and if I am not mistaken, this performance was +repeated, in the whole, three times. There was, certainly nothing +solemn or effective in it; and certainly very much that was droll +and tawdry. But this remark applies to the whole ceremony, except +the raising of the Host, when every man in the guard dropped on one +knee instantly, and dashed his naked sword on the ground; which had +a fine effect. + +The next time I saw the cathedral, was some two or three weeks +afterwards, when I climbed up into the ball; and then, the hangings +being taken down, and the carpet taken up, but all the framework +left, the remnants of these decorations looked like an exploded +cracker. + +The Friday and Saturday having been solemn Festa days, and Sunday +being always a dies non in carnival proceedings, we had looked +forward, with some impatience and curiosity, to the beginning of +the new week: Monday and Tuesday being the two last and best days +of the Carnival. + +On the Monday afternoon at one or two o'clock, there began to be a +great rattling of carriages into the court-yard of the hotel; a +hurrying to and fro of all the servants in it; and, now and then, a +swift shooting across some doorway or balcony, of a straggling +stranger in a fancy dress: not yet sufficiently well used to the +same, to wear it with confidence, and defy public opinion. All the +carriages were open, and had the linings carefully covered with +white cotton or calico, to prevent their proper decorations from +being spoiled by the incessant pelting of sugar-plums; and people +were packing and cramming into every vehicle as it waited for its +occupants, enormous sacks and baskets full of these confetti, +together with such heaps of flowers, tied up in little nosegays, +that some carriages were not only brimful of flowers, but literally +running over: scattering, at every shake and jerk of the springs, +some of their abundance on the ground. Not to be behindhand in +these essential particulars, we caused two very respectable sacks +of sugar-plums (each about three feet high) and a large clothes- +basket full of flowers to be conveyed into our hired barouche, with +all speed. And from our place of observation, in one of the upper +balconies of the hotel, we contemplated these arrangements with the +liveliest satisfaction. The carriages now beginning to take up +their company, and move away, we got into ours, and drove off too, +armed with little wire masks for our faces; the sugar-plums, like +Falstaff's adulterated sack, having lime in their composition. + +The Corso is a street a mile long; a street of shops, and palaces, +and private houses, sometimes opening into a broad piazza. There +are verandahs and balconies, of all shapes and sizes, to almost +every house--not on one story alone, but often to one room or +another on every story--put there in general with so little order +or regularity, that if, year after year, and season after season, +it had rained balconies, hailed balconies, snowed balconies, blown +balconies, they could scarcely have come into existence in a more +disorderly manner. + +This is the great fountain-head and focus of the Carnival. But all +the streets in which the Carnival is held, being vigilantly kept by +dragoons, it is necessary for carriages, in the first instance, to +pass, in line, down another thoroughfare, and so come into the +Corso at the end remote from the Piazza del Popolo; which is one of +its terminations. Accordingly, we fell into the string of coaches, +and, for some time, jogged on quietly enough; now crawling on at a +very slow walk; now trotting half-a-dozen yards; now backing fifty; +and now stopping altogether: as the pressure in front obliged us. +If any impetuous carriage dashed out of the rank and clattered +forward, with the wild idea of getting on faster, it was suddenly +met, or overtaken, by a trooper on horseback, who, deaf as his own +drawn sword to all remonstrances, immediately escorted it back to +the very end of the row, and made it a dim speck in the remotest +perspective. Occasionally, we interchanged a volley of confetti +with the carriage next in front, or the carriage next behind; but +as yet, this capturing of stray and errant coaches by the military, +was the chief amusement. + +Presently, we came into a narrow street, where, besides one line of +carriages going, there was another line of carriages returning. +Here the sugar-plums and the nosegays began to fly about, pretty +smartly; and I was fortunate enough to observe one gentleman +attired as a Greek warrior, catch a light-whiskered brigand on the +nose (he was in the very act of tossing up a bouquet to a young +lady in a first-floor window) with a precision that was much +applauded by the bystanders. As this victorious Greek was +exchanging a facetious remark with a stout gentleman in a doorway-- +one-half black and one-half white, as if he had been peeled up the +middle--who had offered him his congratulations on this +achievement, he received an orange from a housetop, full on his +left ear, and was much surprised, not to say discomfited. +Especially, as he was standing up at the time; and in consequence +of the carriage moving on suddenly, at the same moment, staggered +ignominiously, and buried himself among his flowers. + +Some quarter of an hour of this sort of progress, brought us to the +Corso; and anything so gay, so bright, and lively as the whole +scene there, it would be difficult to imagine. From all the +innumerable balconies: from the remotest and highest, no less than +from the lowest and nearest: hangings of bright red, bright green, +bright blue, white and gold, were fluttering in the brilliant +sunlight. From windows, and from parapets, and tops of houses, +streamers of the richest colours, and draperies of the gaudiest and +most sparkling hues, were floating out upon the street. The +buildings seemed to have been literally turned inside out, and to +have all their gaiety towards the highway. Shop-fronts were taken +down, and the windows filled with company, like boxes at a shining +theatre; doors were carried off their hinges, and long tapestried +groves, hung with garlands of flowers and evergreens, displayed +within; builders' scaffoldings were gorgeous temples, radiant in +silver, gold, and crimson; and in every nook and corner, from the +pavement to the chimney-tops, where women's eyes could glisten, +there they danced, and laughed, and sparkled, like the light in +water. Every sort of bewitching madness of dress was there. +Little preposterous scarlet jackets; quaint old stomachers, more +wicked than the smartest bodices; Polish pelisses, strained and +tight as ripe gooseberries; tiny Greek caps, all awry, and clinging +to the dark hair, Heaven knows how; every wild, quaint, bold, shy, +pettish, madcap fancy had its illustration in a dress; and every +fancy was as dead forgotten by its owner, in the tumult of +merriment, as if the three old aqueducts that still remain entire +had brought Lethe into Rome, upon their sturdy arches, that +morning. + +The carriages were now three abreast; in broader places four; often +stationary for a long time together, always one close mass of +variegated brightness; showing, the whole street-full, through the +storm of flowers, like flowers of a larger growth themselves. In +some, the horses were richly caparisoned in magnificent trappings; +in others they were decked from head to tail, with flowing ribbons. +Some were driven by coachmen with enormous double faces: one face +leering at the horses: the other cocking its extraordinary eyes +into the carriage: and both rattling again, under the hail of +sugar-plums. Other drivers were attired as women, wearing long +ringlets and no bonnets, and looking more ridiculous in any real +difficulty with the horses (of which, in such a concourse, there +were a great many) than tongue can tell, or pen describe. Instead +of sitting IN the carriages, upon the seats, the handsome Roman +women, to see and to be seen the better, sit in the heads of the +barouches, at this time of general licence, with their feet upon +the cushions--and oh, the flowing skirts and dainty waists, the +blessed shapes and laughing faces, the free, good-humoured, gallant +figures that they make! There were great vans, too, full of +handsome girls--thirty, or more together, perhaps--and the +broadsides that were poured into, and poured out of, these fairy +fire-shops, splashed the air with flowers and bon-bons for ten +minutes at a time. Carriages, delayed long in one place, would +begin a deliberate engagement with other carriages, or with people +at the lower windows; and the spectators at some upper balcony or +window, joining in the fray, and attacking both parties, would +empty down great bags of confetti, that descended like a cloud, and +in an instant made them white as millers. Still, carriages on +carriages, dresses on dresses, colours on colours, crowds upon +crowds, without end. Men and boys clinging to the wheels of +coaches, and holding on behind, and following in their wake, and +diving in among the horses' feet to pick up scattered flowers to +sell again; maskers on foot (the drollest generally) in fantastic +exaggerations of court-dresses, surveying the throng through +enormous eye-glasses, and always transported with an ecstasy of +love, on the discovery of any particularly old lady at a window; +long strings of Policinelli, laying about them with blown bladders +at the ends of sticks; a waggon-full of madmen, screaming and +tearing to the life; a coach-full of grave mamelukes, with their +horse-tail standard set up in the midst; a party of gipsy-women +engaged in terrific conflict with a shipful of sailors; a man- +monkey on a pole, surrounded by strange animals with pigs' faces, +and lions' tails, carried under their arms, or worn gracefully over +their shoulders; carriages on carriages, dresses on dresses, +colours on colours, crowds upon crowds, without end. Not many +actual characters sustained, or represented, perhaps, considering +the number dressed, but the main pleasure of the scene consisting +in its perfect good temper; in its bright, and infinite, and +flashing variety; and in its entire abandonment to the mad humour +of the time--an abandonment so perfect, so contagious, so +irresistible, that the steadiest foreigner fights up to his middle +in flowers and sugar-plums, like the wildest Roman of them all, and +thinks of nothing else till half-past four o'clock, when he is +suddenly reminded (to his great regret) that this is not the whole +business of his existence, by hearing the trumpets sound, and +seeing the dragoons begin to clear the street. + +How it ever IS cleared for the race that takes place at five, or +how the horses ever go through the race, without going over the +people, is more than I can say. But the carriages get out into the +by-streets, or up into the Piazza del Popolo, and some people sit +in temporary galleries in the latter place, and tens of thousands +line the Corso on both sides, when the horses are brought out into +the Piazza--to the foot of that same column which, for centuries, +looked down upon the games and chariot-races in the Circus Maximus. + +At a given signal they are started off. Down the live lane, the +whole length of the Corso, they fly like the wind: riderless, as +all the world knows: with shining ornaments upon their backs, and +twisted in their plaited manes: and with heavy little balls stuck +full of spikes, dangling at their sides, to goad them on. The +jingling of these trappings, and the rattling of their hoofs upon +the hard stones; the dash and fury of their speed along the echoing +street; nay, the very cannon that are fired--these noises are +nothing to the roaring of the multitude: their shouts: the +clapping of their hands. But it is soon over--almost +instantaneously. More cannon shake the town. The horses have +plunged into the carpets put across the street to stop them; the +goal is reached; the prizes are won (they are given, in part, by +the poor Jews, as a compromise for not running foot-races +themselves); and there is an end to that day's sport. + +But if the scene be bright, and gay, and crowded, on the last day +but one, it attains, on the concluding day, to such a height of +glittering colour, swarming life, and frolicsome uproar, that the +bare recollection of it makes me giddy at this moment. The same +diversions, greatly heightened and intensified in the ardour with +which they are pursued, go on until the same hour. The race is +repeated; the cannon are fired; the shouting and clapping of hands +are renewed; the cannon are fired again; the race is over; and the +prizes are won. But the carriages: ankle-deep with sugar-plums +within, and so be-flowered and dusty without, as to be hardly +recognisable for the same vehicles that they were, three hours ago: +instead of scampering off in all directions, throng into the Corso, +where they are soon wedged together in a scarcely moving mass. For +the diversion of the Moccoletti, the last gay madness of the +Carnival, is now at hand; and sellers of little tapers like what +are called Christmas candles in England, are shouting lustily on +every side, 'Moccoli, Moccoli! Ecco Moccoli!'--a new item in the +tumult; quite abolishing that other item of ' Ecco Fiori! Ecco +Fior-r-r!' which has been making itself audible over all the rest, +at intervals, the whole day through. + +As the bright hangings and dresses are all fading into one dull, +heavy, uniform colour in the decline of the day, lights begin +flashing, here and there: in the windows, on the housetops, in the +balconies, in the carriages, in the hands of the foot-passengers: +little by little: gradually, gradually: more and more: until the +whole long street is one great glare and blaze of fire. Then, +everybody present has but one engrossing object; that is, to +extinguish other people's candles, and to keep his own alight; and +everybody: man, woman, or child, gentleman or lady, prince or +peasant, native or foreigner: yells and screams, and roars +incessantly, as a taunt to the subdued, 'Senza Moccolo, Senza +Moccolo!' (Without a light! Without a light!) until nothing is +heard but a gigantic chorus of those two words, mingled with peals +of laughter. + +The spectacle, at this time, is one of the most extraordinary that +can be imagined. Carriages coming slowly by, with everybody +standing on the seats or on the box, holding up their lights at +arms' length, for greater safety; some in paper shades; some with a +bunch of undefended little tapers, kindled altogether; some with +blazing torches; some with feeble little candles; men on foot, +creeping along, among the wheels, watching their opportunity, to +make a spring at some particular light, and dash it out; other +people climbing up into carriages, to get hold of them by main +force; others, chasing some unlucky wanderer, round and round his +own coach, to blow out the light he has begged or stolen somewhere, +before he can ascend to his own company, and enable them to light +their extinguished tapers; others, with their hats off, at a +carriage-door, humbly beseeching some kind-hearted lady to oblige +them with a light for a cigar, and when she is in the fulness of +doubt whether to comply or no, blowing out the candle she is +guarding so tenderly with her little hand; other people at the +windows, fishing for candles with lines and hooks, or letting down +long willow-wands with handkerchiefs at the end, and flapping them +out, dexterously, when the bearer is at the height of his triumph, +others, biding their time in corners, with immense extinguishers +like halberds, and suddenly coming down upon glorious torches; +others, gathered round one coach, and sticking to it; others, +raining oranges and nosegays at an obdurate little lantern, or +regularly storming a pyramid of men, holding up one man among them, +who carries one feeble little wick above his head, with which he +defies them all! Senza Moccolo! Senza Moccolo! Beautiful women, +standing up in coaches, pointing in derision at extinguished +lights, and clapping their hands, as they pass on, crying, 'Senza +Moccolo! Senza Moccolo!'; low balconies full of lovely faces and +gay dresses, struggling with assailants in the streets; some +repressing them as they climb up, some bending down, some leaning +over, some shrinking back--delicate arms and bosoms--graceful +figures--glowing lights, fluttering dresses, Senza Moccolo, Senza +Moccoli, Senza Moc-co-lo-o-o-o!--when in the wildest enthusiasm of +the cry, and fullest ecstasy of the sport, the Ave Maria rings from +the church steeples, and the Carnival is over in an instant--put +out like a taper, with a breath! + +There was a masquerade at the theatre at night, as dull and +senseless as a London one, and only remarkable for the summary way +in which the house was cleared at eleven o'clock: which was done +by a line of soldiers forming along the wall, at the back of the +stage, and sweeping the whole company out before them, like a broad +broom. The game of the Moccoletti (the word, in the singular, +Moccoletto, is the diminutive of Moccolo, and means a little lamp +or candlesnuff) is supposed by some to be a ceremony of burlesque +mourning for the death of the Carnival: candles being +indispensable to Catholic grief. But whether it be so, or be a +remnant of the ancient Saturnalia, or an incorporation of both, or +have its origin in anything else, I shall always remember it, and +the frolic, as a brilliant and most captivating sight: no less +remarkable for the unbroken good-humour of all concerned, down to +the very lowest (and among those who scaled the carriages, were +many of the commonest men and boys), than for its innocent +vivacity. For, odd as it may seem to say so, of a sport so full of +thoughtlessness and personal display, it is as free from any taint +of immodesty as any general mingling of the two sexes can possibly +be; and there seems to prevail, during its progress, a feeling of +general, almost childish, simplicity and confidence, which one +thinks of with a pang, when the Ave Maria has rung it away, for a +whole year. + + +Availing ourselves of a part of the quiet interval between the +termination of the Carnival and the beginning of the Holy Week: +when everybody had run away from the one, and few people had yet +begun to run back again for the other: we went conscientiously to +work, to see Rome. And, by dint of going out early every morning, +and coming back late every evening, and labouring hard all day, I +believe we made acquaintance with every post and pillar in the +city, and the country round; and, in particular, explored so many +churches, that I abandoned that part of the enterprise at last, +before it was half finished, lest I should never, of my own accord, +go to church again, as long as I lived. But, I managed, almost +every day, at one time or other, to get back to the Coliseum, and +out upon the open Campagna, beyond the Tomb of Cecilia Metella. + +We often encountered, in these expeditions, a company of English +Tourists, with whom I had an ardent, but ungratified longing, to +establish a speaking acquaintance. They were one Mr. Davis, and a +small circle of friends. It was impossible not to know Mrs. +Davis's name, from her being always in great request among her +party, and her party being everywhere. During the Holy Week, they +were in every part of every scene of every ceremony. For a +fortnight or three weeks before it, they were in every tomb, and +every church, and every ruin, and every Picture Gallery; and I +hardly ever observed Mrs. Davis to be silent for a moment. Deep +underground, high up in St. Peter's, out on the Campagna, and +stifling in the Jews' quarter, Mrs. Davis turned up, all the same. +I don't think she ever saw anything, or ever looked at anything; +and she had always lost something out of a straw hand-basket, and +was trying to find it, with all her might and main, among an +immense quantity of English halfpence, which lay, like sands upon +the sea-shore, at the bottom of it. There was a professional +Cicerone always attached to the party (which had been brought over +from London, fifteen or twenty strong, by contract), and if he so +much as looked at Mrs. Davis, she invariably cut him short by +saying, 'There, God bless the man, don't worrit me! I don't +understand a word you say, and shouldn't if you was to talk till +you was black in the face!' Mr. Davis always had a snuff-coloured +great-coat on, and carried a great green umbrella in his hand, and +had a slow curiosity constantly devouring him, which prompted him +to do extraordinary things, such as taking the covers off urns in +tombs, and looking in at the ashes as if they were pickles--and +tracing out inscriptions with the ferrule of his umbrella, and +saying, with intense thoughtfulness, 'Here's a B you see, and +there's a R, and this is the way we goes on in; is it!' His +antiquarian habits occasioned his being frequently in the rear of +the rest; and one of the agonies of Mrs. Davis, and the party in +general, was an ever-present fear that Davis would be lost. This +caused them to scream for him, in the strangest places, and at the +most improper seasons. And when he came, slowly emerging out of +some sepulchre or other, like a peaceful Ghoule, saying 'Here I +am!' Mrs. Davis invariably replied, 'You'll be buried alive in a +foreign country, Davis, and it's no use trying to prevent you!' + +Mr. and Mrs. Davis, and their party, had, probably, been brought +from London in about nine or ten days. Eighteen hundred years ago, +the Roman legions under Claudius, protested against being led into +Mr. and Mrs. Davis's country, urging that it lay beyond the limits +of the world. + +Among what may be called the Cubs or minor Lions of Rome, there was +one that amused me mightily. It is always to be found there; and +its den is on the great flight of steps that lead from the Piazza +di Spagna, to the church of Trinita del Monte. In plainer words, +these steps are the great place of resort for the artists' +'Models,' and there they are constantly waiting to be hired. The +first time I went up there, I could not conceive why the faces +seemed familiar to me; why they appeared to have beset me, for +years, in every possible variety of action and costume; and how it +came to pass that they started up before me, in Rome, in the broad +day, like so many saddled and bridled nightmares. I soon found +that we had made acquaintance, and improved it, for several years, +on the walls of various Exhibition Galleries. There is one old +gentleman, with long white hair and an immense beard, who, to my +knowledge, has gone half through the catalogue of the Royal +Academy. This is the venerable, or patriarchal model. He carries +a long staff; and every knot and twist in that staff I have seen, +faithfully delineated, innumerable times. There is another man in +a blue cloak, who always pretends to be asleep in the sun (when +there is any), and who, I need not say, is always very wide awake, +and very attentive to the disposition of his legs. This is the +dolce far' niente model. There is another man in a brown cloak, +who leans against a wall, with his arms folded in his mantle, and +looks out of the corners of his eyes: which are just visible +beneath his broad slouched hat. This is the assassin model. There +is another man, who constantly looks over his own shoulder, and is +always going away, but never does. This is the haughty, or +scornful model. As to Domestic Happiness, and Holy Families, they +should come very cheap, for there are lumps of them, all up the +steps; and the cream of the thing is, that they are all the falsest +vagabonds in the world, especially made up for the purpose, and +having no counterparts in Rome or any other part of the habitable +globe. + +My recent mention of the Carnival, reminds me of its being said to +be a mock mourning (in the ceremony with which it closes), for the +gaieties and merry-makings before Lent; and this again reminds me +of the real funerals and mourning processions of Rome, which, like +those in most other parts of Italy, are rendered chiefly remarkable +to a Foreigner, by the indifference with which the mere clay is +universally regarded, after life has left it. And this is not from +the survivors having had time to dissociate the memory of the dead +from their well-remembered appearance and form on earth; for the +interment follows too speedily after death, for that: almost +always taking place within four-and-twenty hours, and, sometimes, +within twelve. + +At Rome, there is the same arrangement of Pits in a great, bleak, +open, dreary space, that I have already described as existing in +Genoa. When I visited it, at noonday, I saw a solitary coffin of +plain deal: uncovered by any shroud or pall, and so slightly made, +that the hoof of any wandering mule would have crushed it in: +carelessly tumbled down, all on one side, on the door of one of the +pits--and there left, by itself, in the wind and sunshine. 'How +does it come to be left here?' I asked the man who showed me the +place. 'It was brought here half an hour ago, Signore,' he said. +I remembered to have met the procession, on its return: straggling +away at a good round pace. 'When will it be put in the pit?' I +asked him. 'When the cart comes, and it is opened to-night,' he +said. 'How much does it cost to be brought here in this way, +instead of coming in the cart?' I asked him. 'Ten scudi,' he said +(about two pounds, two-and-sixpence, English). 'The other bodies, +for whom nothing is paid, are taken to the church of the Santa +Maria della Consolazione,' he continued, 'and brought here +altogether, in the cart at night.' I stood, a moment, looking at +the coffin, which had two initial letters scrawled upon the top; +and turned away, with an expression in my face, I suppose, of not +much liking its exposure in that manner: for he said, shrugging +his shoulders with great vivacity, and giving a pleasant smile, +'But he's dead, Signore, he's dead. Why not?' + + +Among the innumerable churches, there is one I must select for +separate mention. It is the church of the Ara Coeli, supposed to +be built on the site of the old Temple of Jupiter Feretrius; and +approached, on one side, by a long steep flight of steps, which +seem incomplete without some group of bearded soothsayers on the +top. It is remarkable for the possession of a miraculous Bambino, +or wooden doll, representing the Infant Saviour; and I first saw +this miraculous Bambino, in legal phrase, in manner following, that +is to say: + +We had strolled into the church one afternoon, and were looking +down its long vista of gloomy pillars (for all these ancient +churches built upon the ruins of old temples, are dark and sad), +when the Brave came running in, with a grin upon his face that +stretched it from ear to ear, and implored us to follow him, +without a moment's delay, as they were going to show the Bambino to +a select party. We accordingly hurried off to a sort of chapel, or +sacristy, hard by the chief altar, but not in the church itself, +where the select party, consisting of two or three Catholic +gentlemen and ladies (not Italians), were already assembled: and +where one hollow-cheeked young monk was lighting up divers candles, +while another was putting on some clerical robes over his coarse +brown habit. The candles were on a kind of altar, and above it +were two delectable figures, such as you would see at any English +fair, representing the Holy Virgin, and Saint Joseph, as I suppose, +bending in devotion over a wooden box, or coffer; which was shut. + +The hollow-cheeked monk, number One, having finished lighting the +candles, went down on his knees, in a corner, before this set- +piece; and the monk number Two, having put on a pair of highly +ornamented and gold-bespattered gloves, lifted down the coffer, +with great reverence, and set it on the altar. Then, with many +genuflexions, and muttering certain prayers, he opened it, and let +down the front, and took off sundry coverings of satin and lace +from the inside. The ladies had been on their knees from the +commencement; and the gentlemen now dropped down devoutly, as he +exposed to view a little wooden doll, in face very like General Tom +Thumb, the American Dwarf: gorgeously dressed in satin and gold +lace, and actually blazing with rich jewels. There was scarcely a +spot upon its little breast, or neck, or stomach, but was sparkling +with the costly offerings of the Faithful. Presently, he lifted it +out of the box, and carrying it round among the kneelers, set its +face against the forehead of every one, and tendered its clumsy +foot to them to kiss--a ceremony which they all performed down to a +dirty little ragamuffin of a boy who had walked in from the street. +When this was done, he laid it in the box again: and the company, +rising, drew near, and commended the jewels in whispers. In good +time, he replaced the coverings, shut up the box, put it back in +its place, locked up the whole concern (Holy Family and all) behind +a pair of folding-doors; took off his priestly vestments; and +received the customary 'small charge,' while his companion, by +means of an extinguisher fastened to the end of a long stick, put +out the lights, one after another. The candles being all +extinguished, and the money all collected, they retired, and so did +the spectators. + +I met this same Bambino, in the street a short time afterwards, +going, in great state, to the house of some sick person. It is +taken to all parts of Rome for this purpose, constantly; but, I +understand that it is not always as successful as could be wished; +for, making its appearance at the bedside of weak and nervous +people in extremity, accompanied by a numerous escort, it not +unfrequently frightens them to death. It is most popular in cases +of child-birth, where it has done such wonders, that if a lady be +longer than usual in getting through her difficulties, a messenger +is despatched, with all speed, to solicit the immediate attendance +of the Bambino. It is a very valuable property, and much confided +in--especially by the religious body to whom it belongs. + +I am happy to know that it is not considered immaculate, by some +who are good Catholics, and who are behind the scenes, from what +was told me by the near relation of a Priest, himself a Catholic, +and a gentleman of learning and intelligence. This Priest made my +informant promise that he would, on no account, allow the Bambino +to be borne into the bedroom of a sick lady, in whom they were both +interested. 'For,' said he, 'if they (the monks) trouble her with +it, and intrude themselves into her room, it will certainly kill +her.' My informant accordingly looked out of the window when it +came; and, with many thanks, declined to open the door. He +endeavoured, in another case of which he had no other knowledge +than such as he gained as a passer-by at the moment, to prevent its +being carried into a small unwholesome chamber, where a poor girl +was dying. But, he strove against it unsuccessfully, and she +expired while the crowd were pressing round her bed. + +Among the people who drop into St. Peter's at their leisure, to +kneel on the pavement, and say a quiet prayer, there are certain +schools and seminaries, priestly and otherwise, that come in, +twenty or thirty strong. These boys always kneel down in single +file, one behind the other, with a tall grim master in a black +gown, bringing up the rear: like a pack of cards arranged to be +tumbled down at a touch, with a disproportionately large Knave of +clubs at the end. When they have had a minute or so at the chief +altar, they scramble up, and filing off to the chapel of the +Madonna, or the sacrament, flop down again in the same order; so +that if anybody did stumble against the master, a general and +sudden overthrow of the whole line must inevitably ensue. + +The scene in all the churches is the strangest possible. The same +monotonous, heartless, drowsy chaunting, always going on; the same +dark building, darker from the brightness of the street without; +the same lamps dimly burning; the selfsame people kneeling here and +there; turned towards you, from one altar or other, the same +priest's back, with the same large cross embroidered on it; however +different in size, in shape, in wealth, in architecture, this +church is from that, it is the same thing still. There are the +same dirty beggars stopping in their muttered prayers to beg; the +same miserable cripples exhibiting their deformity at the doors; +the same blind men, rattling little pots like kitchen pepper- +castors: their depositories for alms; the same preposterous crowns +of silver stuck upon the painted heads of single saints and Virgins +in crowded pictures, so that a little figure on a mountain has a +head-dress bigger than the temple in the foreground, or adjacent +miles of landscape; the same favourite shrine or figure, smothered +with little silver hearts and crosses, and the like: the staple +trade and show of all the jewellers; the same odd mixture of +respect and indecorum, faith and phlegm: kneeling on the stones, +and spitting on them, loudly; getting up from prayers to beg a +little, or to pursue some other worldly matter: and then kneeling +down again, to resume the contrite supplication at the point where +it was interrupted. In one church, a kneeling lady got up from her +prayer, for a moment, to offer us her card, as a teacher of Music; +and in another, a sedate gentleman with a very thick walking-staff, +arose from his devotions to belabour his dog, who was growling at +another dog: and whose yelps and howls resounded through the +church, as his master quietly relapsed into his former train of +meditation--keeping his eye upon the dog, at the same time, +nevertheless. + +Above all, there is always a receptacle for the contributions of +the Faithful, in some form or other. Sometimes, it is a money-box, +set up between the worshipper, and the wooden life-size figure of +the Redeemer; sometimes, it is a little chest for the maintenance +of the Virgin; sometimes, an appeal on behalf of a popular Bambino; +sometimes, a bag at the end of a long stick, thrust among the +people here and there, and vigilantly jingled by an active +Sacristan; but there it always is, and, very often, in many shapes +in the same church, and doing pretty well in all. Nor, is it +wanting in the open air--the streets and roads--for, often as you +are walking along, thinking about anything rather than a tin +canister, that object pounces out upon you from a little house by +the wayside; and on its top is painted, 'For the Souls in +Purgatory;' an appeal which the bearer repeats a great many times, +as he rattles it before you, much as Punch rattles the cracked bell +which his sanguine disposition makes an organ of. + +And this reminds me that some Roman altars of peculiar sanctity, +bear the inscription, 'Every Mass performed at this altar frees a +soul from Purgatory.' I have never been able to find out the +charge for one of these services, but they should needs be +expensive. There are several Crosses in Rome too, the kissing of +which, confers indulgences for varying terms. That in the centre +of the Coliseum, is worth a hundred days; and people may be seen +kissing it from morning to night. It is curious that some of these +crosses seem to acquire an arbitrary popularity: this very one +among them. In another part of the Coliseum there is a cross upon +a marble slab, with the inscription, 'Who kisses this cross shall +be entitled to Two hundred and forty days' indulgence.' But I saw +no one person kiss it, though, day after day, I sat in the arena, +and saw scores upon scores of peasants pass it, on their way to +kiss the other. + +To single out details from the great dream of Roman Churches, would +be the wildest occupation in the world. But St. Stefano Rotondo, a +damp, mildewed vault of an old church in the outskirts of Rome, +will always struggle uppermost in my mind, by reason of the hideous +paintings with which its walls are covered. These represent the +martyrdoms of saints and early Christians; and such a panorama of +horror and butchery no man could imagine in his sleep, though he +were to eat a whole pig raw, for supper. Grey-bearded men being +boiled, fried, grilled, crimped, singed, eaten by wild beasts, +worried by dogs, buried alive, torn asunder by horses, chopped up +small with hatchets: women having their breasts torn with iron +pinchers, their tongues cut out, their ears screwed off, their jaws +broken, their bodies stretched upon the rack, or skinned upon the +stake, or crackled up and melted in the fire: these are among the +mildest subjects. So insisted on, and laboured at, besides, that +every sufferer gives you the same occasion for wonder as poor old +Duncan awoke, in Lady Macbeth, when she marvelled at his having so +much blood in him. + +There is an upper chamber in the Mamertine prisons, over what is +said to have been--and very possibly may have been--the dungeon of +St. Peter. This chamber is now fitted up as an oratory, dedicated +to that saint; and it lives, as a distinct and separate place, in +my recollection, too. It is very small and low-roofed; and the +dread and gloom of the ponderous, obdurate old prison are on it, as +if they had come up in a dark mist through the floor. Hanging on +the walls, among the clustered votive offerings, are objects, at +once strangely in keeping, and strangely at variance, with the +place--rusty daggers, knives, pistols, clubs, divers instruments of +violence and murder, brought here, fresh from use, and hung up to +propitiate offended Heaven: as if the blood upon them would drain +off in consecrated air, and have no voice to cry with. It is all +so silent and so close, and tomb-like; and the dungeons below are +so black and stealthy, and stagnant, and naked; that this little +dark spot becomes a dream within a dream: and in the vision of +great churches which come rolling past me like a sea, it is a small +wave by itself, that melts into no other wave, and does not flow on +with the rest. + +It is an awful thing to think of the enormous caverns that are +entered from some Roman churches, and undermine the city. Many +churches have crypts and subterranean chapels of great size, which, +in the ancient time, were baths, and secret chambers of temples, +and what not: but I do not speak of them. Beneath the church of +St. Giovanni and St. Paolo, there are the jaws of a terrific range +of caverns, hewn out of the rock, and said to have another outlet +underneath the Coliseum--tremendous darknesses of vast extent, +half-buried in the earth and unexplorable, where the dull torches, +flashed by the attendants, glimmer down long ranges of distant +vaults branching to the right and left, like streets in a city of +the dead; and show the cold damp stealing down the walls, drip- +drop, drip-drop, to join the pools of water that lie here and +there, and never saw, or never will see, one ray of the sun. Some +accounts make these the prisons of the wild beasts destined for the +amphitheatre; some the prisons of the condemned gladiators; some, +both. But the legend most appalling to the fancy is, that in the +upper range (for there are two stories of these caves) the Early +Christians destined to be eaten at the Coliseum Shows, heard the +wild beasts, hungry for them, roaring down below; until, upon the +night and solitude of their captivity, there burst the sudden noon +and life of the vast theatre crowded to the parapet, and of these, +their dreaded neighbours, bounding in! + +Below the church of San Sebastiano, two miles beyond the gate of +San Sebastiano, on the Appian Way, is the entrance to the catacombs +of Rome--quarries in the old time, but afterwards the hiding-places +of the Christians. These ghastly passages have been explored for +twenty miles; and form a chain of labyrinths, sixty miles in +circumference. + +A gaunt Franciscan friar, with a wild bright eye, was our only +guide, down into this profound and dreadful place. The narrow ways +and openings hither and thither, coupled with the dead and heavy +air, soon blotted out, in all of us, any recollection of the track +by which we had come: and I could not help thinking 'Good Heaven, +if, in a sudden fit of madness, he should dash the torches out, or +if he should be seized with a fit, what would become of us!' On we +wandered, among martyrs' graves: passing great subterranean +vaulted roads, diverging in all directions, and choked up with +heaps of stones, that thieves and murderers may not take refuge +there, and form a population under Rome, even worse than that which +lives between it and the sun. Graves, graves, graves; Graves of +men, of women, of their little children, who ran crying to the +persecutors, 'We are Christians! We are Christians!' that they +might be murdered with their parents; Graves with the palm of +martyrdom roughly cut into their stone boundaries, and little +niches, made to hold a vessel of the martyrs' blood; Graves of some +who lived down here, for years together, ministering to the rest, +and preaching truth, and hope, and comfort, from the rude altars, +that bear witness to their fortitude at this hour; more roomy +graves, but far more terrible, where hundreds, being surprised, +were hemmed in and walled up: buried before Death, and killed by +slow starvation. + +'The Triumphs of the Faith are not above ground in our splendid +churches,' said the friar, looking round upon us, as we stopped to +rest in one of the low passages, with bones and dust surrounding us +on every side. 'They are here! Among the Martyrs' Graves!' He +was a gentle, earnest man, and said it from his heart; but when I +thought how Christian men have dealt with one another; how, +perverting our most merciful religion, they have hunted down and +tortured, burnt and beheaded, strangled, slaughtered, and oppressed +each other; I pictured to myself an agony surpassing any that this +Dust had suffered with the breath of life yet lingering in it, and +how these great and constant hearts would have been shaken--how +they would have quailed and drooped--if a foreknowledge of the +deeds that professing Christians would commit in the Great Name for +which they died, could have rent them with its own unutterable +anguish, on the cruel wheel, and bitter cross, and in the fearful +fire. + +Such are the spots and patches in my dream of churches, that remain +apart, and keep their separate identity. I have a fainter +recollection, sometimes of the relics; of the fragments of the +pillar of the Temple that was rent in twain; of the portion of the +table that was spread for the Last Supper; of the well at which the +woman of Samaria gave water to Our Saviour; of two columns from the +house of Pontius Pilate; of the stone to which the Sacred hands +were bound, when the scourging was performed; of the grid-iron of +Saint Lawrence, and the stone below it, marked with the frying of +his fat and blood; these set a shadowy mark on some cathedrals, as +an old story, or a fable might, and stop them for an instant, as +they flit before me. The rest is a vast wilderness of consecrated +buildings of all shapes and fancies, blending one with another; of +battered pillars of old Pagan temples, dug up from the ground, and +forced, like giant captives, to support the roofs of Christian +churches; of pictures, bad, and wonderful, and impious, and +ridiculous; of kneeling people, curling incense, tinkling bells, +and sometimes (but not often) of a swelling organ: of Madonne, +with their breasts stuck full of swords, arranged in a half-circle +like a modern fan; of actual skeletons of dead saints, hideously +attired in gaudy satins, silks, and velvets trimmed with gold: +their withered crust of skull adorned with precious jewels, or with +chaplets of crushed flowers; sometimes of people gathered round the +pulpit, and a monk within it stretching out the crucifix, and +preaching fiercely: the sun just streaming down through some high +window on the sail-cloth stretched above him and across the church, +to keep his high-pitched voice from being lost among the echoes of +the roof. Then my tired memory comes out upon a flight of steps, +where knots of people are asleep, or basking in the light; and +strolls away, among the rags, and smells, and palaces, and hovels, +of an old Italian street. + + +On one Saturday morning (the eighth of March), a man was beheaded +here. Nine or ten months before, he had waylaid a Bavarian +countess, travelling as a pilgrim to Rome--alone and on foot, of +course--and performing, it is said, that act of piety for the +fourth time. He saw her change a piece of gold at Viterbo, where +he lived; followed her; bore her company on her journey for some +forty miles or more, on the treacherous pretext of protecting her; +attacked her, in the fulfilment of his unrelenting purpose, on the +Campagna, within a very short distance of Rome, near to what is +called (but what is not) the Tomb of Nero; robbed her; and beat her +to death with her own pilgrim's staff. He was newly married, and +gave some of her apparel to his wife: saying that he had bought it +at a fair. She, however, who had seen the pilgrim-countess passing +through their town, recognised some trifle as having belonged to +her. Her husband then told her what he had done. She, in +confession, told a priest; and the man was taken, within four days +after the commission of the murder. + +There are no fixed times for the administration of justice, or its +execution, in this unaccountable country; and he had been in prison +ever since. On the Friday, as he was dining with the other +prisoners, they came and told him he was to be beheaded next +morning, and took him away. It is very unusual to execute in Lent; +but his crime being a very bad one, it was deemed advisable to make +an example of him at that time, when great numbers of pilgrims were +coming towards Rome, from all parts, for the Holy Week. I heard of +this on the Friday evening, and saw the bills up at the churches, +calling on the people to pray for the criminal's soul. So, I +determined to go, and see him executed. + +The beheading was appointed for fourteen and a-half o'clock, Roman +time: or a quarter before nine in the forenoon. I had two friends +with me; and as we did not know but that the crowd might be very +great, we were on the spot by half-past seven. The place of +execution was near the church of San Giovanni decollato (a doubtful +compliment to Saint John the Baptist) in one of the impassable back +streets without any footway, of which a great part of Rome is +composed--a street of rotten houses, which do not seem to belong to +anybody, and do not seem to have ever been inhabited, and certainly +were never built on any plan, or for any particular purpose, and +have no window-sashes, and are a little like deserted breweries, +and might be warehouses but for having nothing in them. Opposite +to one of these, a white house, the scaffold was built. An untidy, +unpainted, uncouth, crazy-looking thing of course: some seven feet +high, perhaps: with a tall, gallows-shaped frame rising above it, +in which was the knife, charged with a ponderous mass of iron, all +ready to descend, and glittering brightly in the morning sun, +whenever it looked out, now and then, from behind a cloud. + +There were not many people lingering about; and these were kept at +a considerable distance from the scaffold, by parties of the Pope's +dragoons. Two or three hundred foot-soldiers were under arms, +standing at ease in clusters here and there; and the officers were +walking up and down in twos and threes, chatting together, and +smoking cigars. + +At the end of the street, was an open space, where there would be a +dust-heap, and piles of broken crockery, and mounds of vegetable +refuse, but for such things being thrown anywhere and everywhere in +Rome, and favouring no particular sort of locality. We got into a +kind of wash-house, belonging to a dwelling-house on this spot; and +standing there in an old cart, and on a heap of cartwheels piled +against the wall, looked, through a large grated window, at the +scaffold, and straight down the street beyond it until, in +consequence of its turning off abruptly to the left, our +perspective was brought to a sudden termination, and had a +corpulent officer, in a cocked hat, for its crowning feature. + +Nine o'clock struck, and ten o'clock struck, and nothing happened. +All the bells of all the churches rang as usual. A little +parliament of dogs assembled in the open space, and chased each +other, in and out among the soldiers. Fierce-looking Romans of the +lowest class, in blue cloaks, russet cloaks, and rags uncloaked, +came and went, and talked together. Women and children fluttered, +on the skirts of the scanty crowd. One large muddy spot was left +quite bare, like a bald place on a man's head. A cigar-merchant, +with an earthen pot of charcoal ashes in one hand, went up and +down, crying his wares. A pastry-merchant divided his attention +between the scaffold and his customers. Boys tried to climb up +walls, and tumbled down again. Priests and monks elbowed a passage +for themselves among the people, and stood on tiptoe for a sight of +the knife: then went away. Artists, in inconceivable hats of the +middle-ages, and beards (thank Heaven!) of no age at all, flashed +picturesque scowls about them from their stations in the throng. +One gentleman (connected with the fine arts, I presume) went up and +down in a pair of Hessian-boots, with a red beard hanging down on +his breast, and his long and bright red hair, plaited into two +tails, one on either side of his head, which fell over his +shoulders in front of him, very nearly to his waist, and were +carefully entwined and braided! + +Eleven o'clock struck and still nothing happened. A rumour got +about, among the crowd, that the criminal would not confess; in +which case, the priests would keep him until the Ave Maria +(sunset); for it is their merciful custom never finally to turn the +crucifix away from a man at that pass, as one refusing to be +shriven, and consequently a sinner abandoned of the Saviour, until +then. People began to drop off. The officers shrugged their +shoulders and looked doubtful. The dragoons, who came riding up +below our window, every now and then, to order an unlucky hackney- +coach or cart away, as soon as it had comfortably established +itself, and was covered with exulting people (but never before), +became imperious, and quick-tempered. The bald place hadn't a +straggling hair upon it; and the corpulent officer, crowning the +perspective, took a world of snuff. + +Suddenly, there was a noise of trumpets. 'Attention!' was among +the foot-soldiers instantly. They were marched up to the scaffold +and formed round it. The dragoons galloped to their nearer +stations too. The guillotine became the centre of a wood of +bristling bayonets and shining sabres. The people closed round +nearer, on the flank of the soldiery. A long straggling stream of +men and boys, who had accompanied the procession from the prison, +came pouring into the open space. The bald spot was scarcely +distinguishable from the rest. The cigar and pastry-merchants +resigned all thoughts of business, for the moment, and abandoning +themselves wholly to pleasure, got good situations in the crowd. +The perspective ended, now, in a troop of dragoons. And the +corpulent officer, sword in hand, looked hard at a church close to +him, which he could see, but we, the crowd, could not. + +After a short delay, some monks were seen approaching to the +scaffold from this church; and above their heads, coming on slowly +and gloomily, the effigy of Christ upon the cross, canopied with +black. This was carried round the foot of the scaffold, to the +front, and turned towards the criminal, that he might see it to the +last. It was hardly in its place, when he appeared on the +platform, bare-footed; his hands bound; and with the collar and +neck of his shirt cut away, almost to the shoulder. A young man-- +six-and-twenty--vigorously made, and well-shaped. Face pale; small +dark moustache; and dark brown hair. + +He had refused to confess, it seemed, without first having his wife +brought to see him; and they had sent an escort for her, which had +occasioned the delay. + +He immediately kneeled down, below the knife. His neck fitting +into a hole, made for the purpose, in a cross plank, was shut down, +by another plank above; exactly like the pillory. Immediately +below him was a leathern bag. And into it his head rolled +instantly. + +The executioner was holding it by the hair, and walking with it +round the scaffold, showing it to the people, before one quite knew +that the knife had fallen heavily, and with a rattling sound. + +When it had travelled round the four sides of the scaffold, it was +set upon a pole in front--a little patch of black and white, for +the long street to stare at, and the flies to settle on. The eyes +were turned upward, as if he had avoided the sight of the leathern +bag, and looked to the crucifix. Every tinge and hue of life had +left it in that instant. It was dull, cold, livid, wax. The body +also. + +There was a great deal of blood. When we left the window, and went +close up to the scaffold, it was very dirty; one of the two men who +were throwing water over it, turning to help the other lift the +body into a shell, picked his way as through mire. A strange +appearance was the apparent annihilation of the neck. The head was +taken off so close, that it seemed as if the knife had narrowly +escaped crushing the jaw, or shaving off the ear; and the body +looked as if there were nothing left above the shoulder. + +Nobody cared, or was at all affected. There was no manifestation +of disgust, or pity, or indignation, or sorrow. My empty pockets +were tried, several times, in the crowd immediately below the +scaffold, as the corpse was being put into its coffin. It was an +ugly, filthy, careless, sickening spectacle; meaning nothing but +butchery beyond the momentary interest, to the one wretched actor. +Yes! Such a sight has one meaning and one warning. Let me not +forget it. The speculators in the lottery, station themselves at +favourable points for counting the gouts of blood that spirt out, +here or there; and buy that number. It is pretty sure to have a +run upon it. + +The body was carted away in due time, the knife cleansed, the +scaffold taken down, and all the hideous apparatus removed. The +executioner: an outlaw ex officio (what a satire on the +Punishment!) who dare not, for his life, cross the Bridge of St. +Angelo but to do his work: retreated to his lair, and the show was +over. + + +At the head of the collections in the palaces of Rome, the Vatican, +of course, with its treasures of art, its enormous galleries, and +staircases, and suites upon suites of immense chambers, ranks +highest and stands foremost. Many most noble statues, and +wonderful pictures, are there; nor is it heresy to say that there +is a considerable amount of rubbish there, too. When any old piece +of sculpture dug out of the ground, finds a place in a gallery +because it is old, and without any reference to its intrinsic +merits: and finds admirers by the hundred, because it is there, +and for no other reason on earth: there will be no lack of +objects, very indifferent in the plain eyesight of any one who +employs so vulgar a property, when he may wear the spectacles of +Cant for less than nothing, and establish himself as a man of taste +for the mere trouble of putting them on. + +I unreservedly confess, for myself, that I cannot leave my natural +perception of what is natural and true, at a palace-door, in Italy +or elsewhere, as I should leave my shoes if I were travelling in +the East. I cannot forget that there are certain expressions of +face, natural to certain passions, and as unchangeable in their +nature as the gait of a lion, or the flight of an eagle. I cannot +dismiss from my certain knowledge, such commonplace facts as the +ordinary proportion of men's arms, and legs, and heads; and when I +meet with performances that do violence to these experiences and +recollections, no matter where they may be, I cannot honestly +admire them, and think it best to say so; in spite of high critical +advice that we should sometimes feign an admiration, though we have +it not. + +Therefore, I freely acknowledge that when I see a jolly young +Waterman representing a cherubim, or a Barclay and Perkins's +Drayman depicted as an Evangelist, I see nothing to commend or +admire in the performance, however great its reputed Painter. +Neither am I partial to libellous Angels, who play on fiddles and +bassoons, for the edification of sprawling monks apparently in +liquor. Nor to those Monsieur Tonsons of galleries, Saint Francis +and Saint Sebastian; both of whom I submit should have very +uncommon and rare merits, as works of art, to justify their +compound multiplication by Italian Painters. + +It seems to me, too, that the indiscriminate and determined +raptures in which some critics indulge, is incompatible with the +true appreciation of the really great and transcendent works. I +cannot imagine, for example, how the resolute champion of +undeserving pictures can soar to the amazing beauty of Titian's +great picture of the Assumption of the Virgin at Venice; or how the +man who is truly affected by the sublimity of that exquisite +production, or who is truly sensible of the beauty of Tintoretto's +great picture of the Assembly of the Blessed in the same place, can +discern in Michael Angelo's Last Judgment, in the Sistine chapel, +any general idea, or one pervading thought, in harmony with the +stupendous subject. He who will contemplate Raphael's masterpiece, +the Transfiguration, and will go away into another chamber of that +same Vatican, and contemplate another design of Raphael, +representing (in incredible caricature) the miraculous stopping of +a great fire by Leo the Fourth--and who will say that he admires +them both, as works of extraordinary genius--must, as I think, be +wanting in his powers of perception in one of the two instances, +and, probably, in the high and lofty one. + +It is easy to suggest a doubt, but I have a great doubt whether, +sometimes, the rules of art are not too strictly observed, and +whether it is quite well or agreeable that we should know +beforehand, where this figure will be turning round, and where that +figure will be lying down, and where there will be drapery in +folds, and so forth. When I observe heads inferior to the subject, +in pictures of merit, in Italian galleries, I do not attach that +reproach to the Painter, for I have a suspicion that these great +men, who were, of necessity, very much in the hands of monks and +priests, painted monks and priests a great deal too often. I +frequently see, in pictures of real power, heads quite below the +story and the painter: and I invariably observe that those heads +are of the Convent stamp, and have their counterparts among the +Convent inmates of this hour; so, I have settled with myself that, +in such cases, the lameness was not with the painter, but with the +vanity and ignorance of certain of his employers, who would be +apostles--on canvas, at all events. + +The exquisite grace and beauty of Canova's statues; the wonderful +gravity and repose of many of the ancient works in sculpture, both +in the Capitol and the Vatican; and the strength and fire of many +others; are, in their different ways, beyond all reach of words. +They are especially impressive and delightful, after the works of +Bernini and his disciples, in which the churches of Rome, from St. +Peter's downward, abound; and which are, I verily believe, the most +detestable class of productions in the wide world. I would +infinitely rather (as mere works of art) look upon the three +deities of the Past, the Present, and the Future, in the Chinese +Collection, than upon the best of these breezy maniacs; whose every +fold of drapery is blown inside-out; whose smallest vein, or +artery, is as big as an ordinary forefinger; whose hair is like a +nest of lively snakes; and whose attitudes put all other +extravagance to shame. Insomuch that I do honestly believe, there +can be no place in the world, where such intolerable abortions, +begotten of the sculptor's chisel, are to be found in such +profusion, as in Rome. + +There is a fine collection of Egyptian antiquities, in the Vatican; +and the ceilings of the rooms in which they are arranged, are +painted to represent a starlight sky in the Desert. It may seem an +odd idea, but it is very effective. The grim, half-human monsters +from the temples, look more grim and monstrous underneath the deep +dark blue; it sheds a strange uncertain gloomy air on everything--a +mystery adapted to the objects; and you leave them, as you find +them, shrouded in a solemn night. + +In the private palaces, pictures are seen to the best advantage. +There are seldom so many in one place that the attention need +become distracted, or the eye confused. You see them very +leisurely; and are rarely interrupted by a crowd of people. There +are portraits innumerable, by Titian, and Rembrandt, and Vandyke; +heads by Guido, and Domenichino, and Carlo Dolci; various subjects +by Correggio, and Murillo, and Raphael, and Salvator Rosa, and +Spagnoletto--many of which it would be difficult, indeed, to praise +too highly, or to praise enough; such is their tenderness and +grace; their noble elevation, purity, and beauty. + +The portrait of Beatrice di Cenci, in the Palazzo Berberini, is a +picture almost impossible to be forgotten. Through the +transcendent sweetness and beauty of the face, there is a something +shining out, that haunts me. I see it now, as I see this paper, or +my pen. The head is loosely draped in white; the light hair +falling down below the linen folds. She has turned suddenly +towards you; and there is an expression in the eyes--although they +are very tender and gentle--as if the wildness of a momentary +terror, or distraction, had been struggled with and overcome, that +instant; and nothing but a celestial hope, and a beautiful sorrow, +and a desolate earthly helplessness remained. Some stories say +that Guido painted it, the night before her execution; some other +stories, that he painted it from memory, after having seen her, on +her way to the scaffold. I am willing to believe that, as you see +her on his canvas, so she turned towards him, in the crowd, from +the first sight of the axe, and stamped upon his mind a look which +he has stamped on mine as though I had stood beside him in the +concourse. The guilty palace of the Cenci: blighting a whole +quarter of the town, as it stands withering away by grains: had +that face, to my fancy, in its dismal porch, and at its black, +blind windows, and flitting up and down its dreary stairs, and +growing out of the darkness of the ghostly galleries. The History +is written in the Painting; written, in the dying girl's face, by +Nature's own hand. And oh! how in that one touch she puts to +flight (instead of making kin) the puny world that claim to be +related to her, in right of poor conventional forgeries! + +I saw in the Palazzo Spada, the statue of Pompey; the statue at +whose base Caesar fell. A stern, tremendous figure! I imagined +one of greater finish: of the last refinement: full of delicate +touches: losing its distinctness, in the giddy eyes of one whose +blood was ebbing before it, and settling into some such rigid +majesty as this, as Death came creeping over the upturned face. + +The excursions in the neighbourhood of Rome are charming, and would +be full of interest were it only for the changing views they +afford, of the wild Campagna. But, every inch of ground, in every +direction, is rich in associations, and in natural beauties. There +is Albano, with its lovely lake and wooded shore, and with its +wine, that certainly has not improved since the days of Horace, and +in these times hardly justifies his panegyric. There is squalid +Tivoli, with the river Anio, diverted from its course, and plunging +down, headlong, some eighty feet in search of it. With its +picturesque Temple of the Sibyl, perched high on a crag; its minor +waterfalls glancing and sparkling in the sun; and one good cavern +yawning darkly, where the river takes a fearful plunge and shoots +on, low down under beetling rocks. There, too, is the Villa +d'Este, deserted and decaying among groves of melancholy pine and +cypress trees, where it seems to lie in state. Then, there is +Frascati, and, on the steep above it, the ruins of Tusculum, where +Cicero lived, and wrote, and adorned his favourite house (some +fragments of it may yet be seen there), and where Cato was born. +We saw its ruined amphitheatre on a grey, dull day, when a shrill +March wind was blowing, and when the scattered stones of the old +city lay strewn about the lonely eminence, as desolate and dead as +the ashes of a long extinguished fire. + +One day we walked out, a little party of three, to Albano, fourteen +miles distant; possessed by a great desire to go there by the +ancient Appian way, long since ruined and overgrown. We started at +half-past seven in the morning, and within an hour or so were out +upon the open Campagna. For twelve miles we went climbing on, over +an unbroken succession of mounds, and heaps, and hills, of ruin. +Tombs and temples, overthrown and prostrate; small fragments of +columns, friezes, pediments; great blocks of granite and marble; +mouldering arches, grass-grown and decayed; ruin enough to build a +spacious city from; lay strewn about us. Sometimes, loose walls, +built up from these fragments by the shepherds, came across our +path; sometimes, a ditch between two mounds of broken stones, +obstructed our progress; sometimes, the fragments themselves, +rolling from beneath our feet, made it a toilsome matter to +advance; but it was always ruin. Now, we tracked a piece of the +old road, above the ground; now traced it, underneath a grassy +covering, as if that were its grave; but all the way was ruin. In +the distance, ruined aqueducts went stalking on their giant course +along the plain; and every breath of wind that swept towards us, +stirred early flowers and grasses, springing up, spontaneously, on +miles of ruin. The unseen larks above us, who alone disturbed the +awful silence, had their nests in ruin; and the fierce herdsmen, +clad in sheepskins, who now and then scowled out upon us from their +sleeping nooks, were housed in ruin. The aspect of the desolate +Campagna in one direction, where it was most level, reminded me of +an American prairie; but what is the solitude of a region where men +have never dwelt, to that of a Desert, where a mighty race have +left their footprints in the earth from which they have vanished; +where the resting-places of their Dead, have fallen like their +Dead; and the broken hour-glass of Time is but a heap of idle dust! +Returning, by the road, at sunset! and looking, from the distance, +on the course we had taken in the morning, I almost feel (as I had +felt when I first saw it, at that hour) as if the sun would never +rise again, but looked its last, that night, upon a ruined world. + +To come again on Rome, by moonlight, after such an expedition, is a +fitting close to such a day. The narrow streets, devoid of +footways, and choked, in every obscure corner, by heaps of +dunghill-rubbish, contrast so strongly, in their cramped +dimensions, and their filth, and darkness, with the broad square +before some haughty church: in the centre of which, a +hieroglyphic-covered obelisk, brought from Egypt in the days of the +Emperors, looks strangely on the foreign scene about it; or perhaps +an ancient pillar, with its honoured statue overthrown, supports a +Christian saint: Marcus Aurelius giving place to Paul, and Trajan +to St. Peter. Then, there are the ponderous buildings reared from +the spoliation of the Coliseum, shutting out the moon, like +mountains: while here and there, are broken arches and rent walls, +through which it gushes freely, as the life comes pouring from a +wound. The little town of miserable houses, walled, and shut in by +barred gates, is the quarter where the Jews are locked up nightly, +when the clock strikes eight--a miserable place, densely populated, +and reeking with bad odours, but where the people are industrious +and money-getting. In the day-time, as you make your way along the +narrow streets, you see them all at work: upon the pavement, +oftener than in their dark and frouzy shops: furbishing old +clothes, and driving bargains. + +Crossing from these patches of thick darkness, out into the moon +once more, the fountain of Trevi, welling from a hundred jets, and +rolling over mimic rocks, is silvery to the eye and ear. In the +narrow little throat of street, beyond, a booth, dressed out with +flaring lamps, and boughs of trees, attracts a group of sulky +Romans round its smoky coppers of hot broth, and cauliflower stew; +its trays of fried fish, and its flasks of wine. As you rattle +round the sharply-twisting corner, a lumbering sound is heard. The +coachman stops abruptly, and uncovers, as a van comes slowly by, +preceded by a man who bears a large cross; by a torch-bearer; and a +priest: the latter chaunting as he goes. It is the Dead Cart, +with the bodies of the poor, on their way to burial in the Sacred +Field outside the walls, where they will be thrown into the pit +that will be covered with a stone to-night, and sealed up for a +year. + +But whether, in this ride, you pass by obelisks, or columns ancient +temples, theatres, houses, porticoes, or forums: it is strange to +see, how every fragment, whenever it is possible, has been blended +into some modern structure, and made to serve some modern purpose-- +a wall, a dwelling-place, a granary, a stable--some use for which +it never was designed, and associated with which it cannot +otherwise than lamely assort. It is stranger still, to see how +many ruins of the old mythology: how many fragments of obsolete +legend and observance: have been incorporated into the worship of +Christian altars here; and how, in numberless respects, the false +faith and the true are fused into a monstrous union. + +From one part of the city, looking out beyond the walls, a squat +and stunted pyramid (the burial-place of Caius Cestius) makes an +opaque triangle in the moonlight. But, to an English traveller, it +serves to mark the grave of Shelley too, whose ashes lie beneath a +little garden near it. Nearer still, almost within its shadow, lie +the bones of Keats, 'whose name is writ in water,' that shines +brightly in the landscape of a calm Italian night. + +The Holy Week in Rome is supposed to offer great attractions to all +visitors; but, saving for the sights of Easter Sunday, I would +counsel those who go to Rome for its own interest, to avoid it at +that time. The ceremonies, in general, are of the most tedious and +wearisome kind; the heat and crowd at every one of them, painfully +oppressive; the noise, hubbub, and confusion, quite distracting. +We abandoned the pursuit of these shows, very early in the +proceedings, and betook ourselves to the Ruins again. But, we +plunged into the crowd for a share of the best of the sights; and +what we saw, I will describe to you. + +At the Sistine chapel, on the Wednesday, we saw very little, for by +the time we reached it (though we were early) the besieging crowd +had filled it to the door, and overflowed into the adjoining hall, +where they were struggling, and squeezing, and mutually +expostulating, and making great rushes every time a lady was +brought out faint, as if at least fifty people could be +accommodated in her vacant standing-room. Hanging in the doorway +of the chapel, was a heavy curtain, and this curtain, some twenty +people nearest to it, in their anxiety to hear the chaunting of the +Miserere, were continually plucking at, in opposition to each +other, that it might not fall down and stifle the sound of the +voices. The consequence was, that it occasioned the most +extraordinary confusion, and seemed to wind itself about the +unwary, like a Serpent. Now, a lady was wrapped up in it, and +couldn't be unwound. Now, the voice of a stifling gentleman was +heard inside it, beseeching to be let out. Now, two muffled arms, +no man could say of which sex, struggled in it as in a sack. Now, +it was carried by a rush, bodily overhead into the chapel, like an +awning. Now, it came out the other way, and blinded one of the +Pope's Swiss Guard, who had arrived, that moment, to set things to +rights. + +Being seated at a little distance, among two or three of the Pope's +gentlemen, who were very weary and counting the minutes--as perhaps +his Holiness was too--we had better opportunities of observing this +eccentric entertainment, than of hearing the Miserere. Sometimes, +there was a swell of mournful voices that sounded very pathetic and +sad, and died away, into a low strain again; but that was all we +heard. + +At another time, there was the Exhibition of Relics in St. Peter's, +which took place at between six and seven o'clock in the evening, +and was striking from the cathedral being dark and gloomy, and +having a great many people in it. The place into which the relics +were brought, one by one, by a party of three priests, was a high +balcony near the chief altar. This was the only lighted part of +the church. There are always a hundred and twelve lamps burning +near the altar, and there were two tall tapers, besides, near the +black statue of St. Peter; but these were nothing in such an +immense edifice. The gloom, and the general upturning of faces to +the balcony, and the prostration of true believers on the pavement, +as shining objects, like pictures or looking-glasses, were brought +out and shown, had something effective in it, despite the very +preposterous manner in which they were held up for the general +edification, and the great elevation at which they were displayed; +which one would think rather calculated to diminish the comfort +derivable from a full conviction of their being genuine. + +On the Thursday, we went to see the Pope convey the Sacrament from +the Sistine chapel, to deposit it in the Capella Paolina, another +chapel in the Vatican;--a ceremony emblematical of the entombment +of the Saviour before His Resurrection. We waited in a great +gallery with a great crowd of people (three-fourths of them +English) for an hour or so, while they were chaunting the Miserere, +in the Sistine chapel again. Both chapels opened out of the +gallery; and the general attention was concentrated on the +occasional opening and shutting of the door of the one for which +the Pope was ultimately bound. None of these openings disclosed +anything more tremendous than a man on a ladder, lighting a great +quantity of candles; but at each and every opening, there was a +terrific rush made at this ladder and this man, something like (I +should think) a charge of the heavy British cavalry at Waterloo. +The man was never brought down, however, nor the ladder; for it +performed the strangest antics in the world among the crowd--where +it was carried by the man, when the candles were all lighted; and +finally it was stuck up against the gallery wall, in a very +disorderly manner, just before the opening of the other chapel, and +the commencement of a new chaunt, announced the approach of his +Holiness. At this crisis, the soldiers of the guard, who had been +poking the crowd into all sorts of shapes, formed down the gallery: +and the procession came up, between the two lines they made. + +There were a few choristers, and then a great many priests, walking +two and two, and carrying--the good-looking priests at least--their +lighted tapers, so as to throw the light with a good effect upon +their faces: for the room was darkened. Those who were not +handsome, or who had not long beards, carried THEIR tapers anyhow, +and abandoned themselves to spiritual contemplation. Meanwhile, +the chaunting was very monotonous and dreary. The procession +passed on, slowly, into the chapel, and the drone of voices went +on, and came on, with it, until the Pope himself appeared, walking +under a white satin canopy, and bearing the covered Sacrament in +both hands; cardinals and canons clustered round him, making a +brilliant show. The soldiers of the guard knelt down as he passed; +all the bystanders bowed; and so he passed on into the chapel: the +white satin canopy being removed from over him at the door, and a +white satin parasol hoisted over his poor old head, in place of it. +A few more couples brought up the rear, and passed into the chapel +also. Then, the chapel door was shut; and it was all over; and +everybody hurried off headlong, as for life or death, to see +something else, and say it wasn't worth the trouble. + +I think the most popular and most crowded sight (excepting those of +Easter Sunday and Monday, which are open to all classes of people) +was the Pope washing the feet of Thirteen men, representing the +twelve apostles, and Judas Iscariot. The place in which this pious +office is performed, is one of the chapels of St. Peter's, which is +gaily decorated for the occasion; the thirteen sitting, 'all of a +row,' on a very high bench, and looking particularly uncomfortable, +with the eyes of Heaven knows how many English, French, Americans, +Swiss, Germans, Russians, Swedes, Norwegians, and other foreigners, +nailed to their faces all the time. They are robed in white; and +on their heads they wear a stiff white cap, like a large English +porter-pot, without a handle. Each carries in his hand, a nosegay, +of the size of a fine cauliflower; and two of them, on this +occasion, wore spectacles; which, remembering the characters they +sustained, I thought a droll appendage to the costume. There was a +great eye to character. St. John was represented by a good-looking +young man. St. Peter, by a grave-looking old gentleman, with a +flowing brown beard; and Judas Iscariot by such an enormous +hypocrite (I could not make out, though, whether the expression of +his face was real or assumed) that if he had acted the part to the +death and had gone away and hanged himself, he would have left +nothing to be desired. + +As the two large boxes, appropriated to ladies at this sight, were +full to the throat, and getting near was hopeless, we posted off, +along with a great crowd, to be in time at the Table, where the +Pope, in person, waits on these Thirteen; and after a prodigious +struggle at the Vatican staircase, and several personal conflicts +with the Swiss guard, the whole crowd swept into the room. It was +a long gallery hung with drapery of white and red, with another +great box for ladies (who are obliged to dress in black at these +ceremonies, and to wear black veils), a royal box for the King of +Naples and his party; and the table itself, which, set out like a +ball supper, and ornamented with golden figures of the real +apostles, was arranged on an elevated platform on one side of the +gallery. The counterfeit apostles' knives and forks were laid out +on that side of the table which was nearest to the wall, so that +they might be stared at again, without let or hindrance. + +The body of the room was full of male strangers; the crowd immense; +the heat very great; and the pressure sometimes frightful. It was +at its height, when the stream came pouring in, from the feet- +washing; and then there were such shrieks and outcries, that a +party of Piedmontese dragoons went to the rescue of the Swiss +guard, and helped them to calm the tumult. + +The ladies were particularly ferocious, in their struggles for +places. One lady of my acquaintance was seized round the waist, in +the ladies' box, by a strong matron, and hoisted out of her place; +and there was another lady (in a back row in the same box) who +improved her position by sticking a large pin into the ladies +before her. + +The gentlemen about me were remarkably anxious to see what was on +the table; and one Englishman seemed to have embarked the whole +energy of his nature in the determination to discover whether there +was any mustard. 'By Jupiter there's vinegar!' I heard him say to +his friend, after he had stood on tiptoe an immense time, and had +been crushed and beaten on all sides. 'And there's oil! I saw +them distinctly, in cruets! Can any gentleman, in front there, see +mustard on the table? Sir, will you oblige me! DO you see a +Mustard-Pot?' + +The apostles and Judas appearing on the platform, after much +expectation, were marshalled, in line, in front of the table, with +Peter at the top; and a good long stare was taken at them by the +company, while twelve of them took a long smell at their nosegays, +and Judas--moving his lips very obtrusively--engaged in inward +prayer. Then, the Pope, clad in a scarlet robe, and wearing on his +head a skull-cap of white satin, appeared in the midst of a crowd +of Cardinals and other dignitaries, and took in his hand a little +golden ewer, from which he poured a little water over one of +Peter's hands, while one attendant held a golden basin; a second, a +fine cloth; a third, Peter's nosegay, which was taken from him +during the operation. This his Holiness performed, with +considerable expedition, on every man in the line (Judas, I +observed, to be particularly overcome by his condescension); and +then the whole Thirteen sat down to dinner. Grace said by the +Pope. Peter in the chair. + +There was white wine, and red wine: and the dinner looked very +good. The courses appeared in portions, one for each apostle: and +these being presented to the Pope, by Cardinals upon their knees, +were by him handed to the Thirteen. The manner in which Judas grew +more white-livered over his victuals, and languished, with his head +on one side, as if he had no appetite, defies all description. +Peter was a good, sound, old man, and went in, as the saying is, +'to win;' eating everything that was given him (he got the best: +being first in the row) and saying nothing to anybody. The dishes +appeared to be chiefly composed of fish and vegetables. The Pope +helped the Thirteen to wine also; and, during the whole dinner, +somebody read something aloud, out of a large book--the Bible, I +presume--which nobody could hear, and to which nobody paid the +least attention. The Cardinals, and other attendants, smiled to +each other, from time to time, as if the thing were a great farce; +and if they thought so, there is little doubt they were perfectly +right. His Holiness did what he had to do, as a sensible man gets +through a troublesome ceremony, and seemed very glad when it was +all over. + +The Pilgrims' Suppers: where lords and ladies waited on the +Pilgrims, in token of humility, and dried their feet when they had +been well washed by deputy: were very attractive. But, of all the +many spectacles of dangerous reliance on outward observances, in +themselves mere empty forms, none struck me half so much as the +Scala Santa, or Holy Staircase, which I saw several times, but to +the greatest advantage, or disadvantage, on Good Friday. + +This holy staircase is composed of eight-and-twenty steps, said to +have belonged to Pontius Pilate's house and to be the identical +stair on which Our Saviour trod, in coming down from the judgment- +seat. Pilgrims ascend it, only on their knees. It is steep; and, +at the summit, is a chapel, reported to be full of relics; into +which they peep through some iron bars, and then come down again, +by one of two side staircases, which are not sacred, and may be +walked on. + +On Good Friday, there were, on a moderate computation, a hundred +people, slowly shuffling up these stairs, on their knees, at one +time; while others, who were going up, or had come down--and a few +who had done both, and were going up again for the second time-- +stood loitering in the porch below, where an old gentleman in a +sort of watch-box, rattled a tin canister, with a slit in the top, +incessantly, to remind them that he took the money. The majority +were country-people, male and female. There were four or five +Jesuit priests, however, and some half-dozen well-dressed women. A +whole school of boys, twenty at least, were about half-way up-- +evidently enjoying it very much. They were all wedged together, +pretty closely; but the rest of the company gave the boys as wide a +berth as possible, in consequence of their betraying some +recklessness in the management of their boots. + +I never, in my life, saw anything at once so ridiculous, and so +unpleasant, as this sight--ridiculous in the absurd incidents +inseparable from it; and unpleasant in its senseless and unmeaning +degradation. There are two steps to begin with, and then a rather +broad landing. The more rigid climbers went along this landing on +their knees, as well as up the stairs; and the figures they cut, in +their shuffling progress over the level surface, no description can +paint. Then, to see them watch their opportunity from the porch, +and cut in where there was a place next the wall! And to see one +man with an umbrella (brought on purpose, for it was a fine day) +hoisting himself, unlawfully, from stair to stair! And to observe +a demure lady of fifty-five or so, looking back, every now and +then, to assure herself that her legs were properly disposed! + +There were such odd differences in the speed of different people, +too. Some got on as if they were doing a match against time; +others stopped to say a prayer on every step. This man touched +every stair with his forehead, and kissed it; that man scratched +his head all the way. The boys got on brilliantly, and were up and +down again before the old lady had accomplished her half-dozen +stairs. But most of the penitents came down, very sprightly and +fresh, as having done a real good substantial deed which it would +take a good deal of sin to counterbalance; and the old gentleman in +the watch-box was down upon them with his canister while they were +in this humour, I promise you. + +As if such a progress were not in its nature inevitably droll +enough, there lay, on the top of the stairs, a wooden figure on a +crucifix, resting on a sort of great iron saucer: so rickety and +unsteady, that whenever an enthusiastic person kissed the figure, +with more than usual devotion, or threw a coin into the saucer, +with more than common readiness (for it served in this respect as a +second or supplementary canister), it gave a great leap and rattle, +and nearly shook the attendant lamp out: horribly frightening the +people further down, and throwing the guilty party into unspeakable +embarrassment. + +On Easter Sunday, as well as on the preceding Thursday, the Pope +bestows his benediction on the people, from the balcony in front of +St. Peter's. This Easter Sunday was a day so bright and blue: so +cloudless, balmy, wonderfully bright: that all the previous bad +weather vanished from the recollection in a moment. I had seen the +Thursday's Benediction dropping damply on some hundreds of +umbrellas, but there was not a sparkle then, in all the hundred +fountains of Rome--such fountains as they are!--and on this Sunday +morning they were running diamonds. The miles of miserable streets +through which we drove (compelled to a certain course by the Pope's +dragoons: the Roman police on such occasions) were so full of +colour, that nothing in them was capable of wearing a faded aspect. +The common people came out in their gayest dresses; the richer +people in their smartest vehicles; Cardinals rattled to the church +of the Poor Fishermen in their state carriages; shabby magnificence +flaunted its thread-bare liveries and tarnished cocked hats, in the +sun; and every coach in Rome was put in requisition for the Great +Piazza of St. Peter's. + +One hundred and fifty thousand people were there at least! Yet +there was ample room. How many carriages were there, I don't know; +yet there was room for them too, and to spare. The great steps of +the church were densely crowded. There were many of the Contadini, +from Albano (who delight in red), in that part of the square, and +the mingling of bright colours in the crowd was beautiful. Below +the steps the troops were ranged. In the magnificent proportions +of the place they looked like a bed of flowers. Sulky Romans, +lively peasants from the neighbouring country, groups of pilgrims +from distant parts of Italy, sight-seeing foreigners of all +nations, made a murmur in the clear air, like so many insects; and +high above them all, plashing and bubbling, and making rainbow +colours in the light, the two delicious fountains welled and +tumbled bountifully. + +A kind of bright carpet was hung over the front of the balcony; and +the sides of the great window were bedecked with crimson drapery. +An awning was stretched, too, over the top, to screen the old man +from the hot rays of the sun. As noon approached, all eyes were +turned up to this window. In due time, the chair was seen +approaching to the front, with the gigantic fans of peacock's +feathers, close behind. The doll within it (for the balcony is +very high) then rose up, and stretched out its tiny arms, while all +the male spectators in the square uncovered, and some, but not by +any means the greater part, kneeled down. The guns upon the +ramparts of the Castle of St. Angelo proclaimed, next moment, that +the benediction was given; drums beat; trumpets sounded; arms +clashed; and the great mass below, suddenly breaking into smaller +heaps, and scattering here and there in rills, was stirred like +parti-coloured sand. + +What a bright noon it was, as we rode away! The Tiber was no +longer yellow, but blue. There was a blush on the old bridges, +that made them fresh and hale again. The Pantheon, with its +majestic front, all seamed and furrowed like an old face, had +summer light upon its battered walls. Every squalid and desolate +hut in the Eternal City (bear witness every grim old palace, to the +filth and misery of the plebeian neighbour that elbows it, as +certain as Time has laid its grip on its patrician head!) was fresh +and new with some ray of the sun. The very prison in the crowded +street, a whirl of carriages and people, had some stray sense of +the day, dropping through its chinks and crevices: and dismal +prisoners who could not wind their faces round the barricading of +the blocked-up windows, stretched out their hands, and clinging to +the rusty bars, turned THEM towards the overflowing street: as if +it were a cheerful fire, and could be shared in, that way. + +But, when the night came on, without a cloud to dim the full moon, +what a sight it was to see the Great Square full once more, and the +whole church, from the cross to the ground, lighted with +innumerable lanterns, tracing out the architecture, and winking and +shining all round the colonnade of the piazza! And what a sense of +exultation, joy, delight, it was, when the great bell struck half- +past seven--on the instant--to behold one bright red mass of fire, +soar gallantly from the top of the cupola to the extremest summit +of the cross, and the moment it leaped into its place, become the +signal of a bursting out of countless lights, as great, and red, +and blazing as itself, from every part of the gigantic church; so +that every cornice, capital, and smallest ornament of stone, +expressed itself in fire: and the black, solid groundwork of the +enormous dome seemed to grow transparent as an egg-shell! + +A train of gunpowder, an electric chain--nothing could be fired, +more suddenly and swiftly, than this second illumination; and when +we had got away, and gone upon a distant height, and looked towards +it two hours afterwards, there it still stood, shining and +glittering in the calm night like a jewel! Not a line of its +proportions wanting; not an angle blunted; not an atom of its +radiance lost. + +The next night--Easter Monday--there was a great display of +fireworks from the Castle of St. Angelo. We hired a room in an +opposite house, and made our way, to our places, in good time, +through a dense mob of people choking up the square in front, and +all the avenues leading to it; and so loading the bridge by which +the castle is approached, that it seemed ready to sink into the +rapid Tiber below. There are statues on this bridge (execrable +works), and, among them, great vessels full of burning tow were +placed: glaring strangely on the faces of the crowd, and not less +strangely on the stone counterfeits above them. + +The show began with a tremendous discharge of cannon; and then, for +twenty minutes or half an hour, the whole castle was one incessant +sheet of fire, and labyrinth of blazing wheels of every colour, +size, and speed: while rockets streamed into the sky, not by ones +or twos, or scores, but hundreds at a time. The concluding burst-- +the Girandola--was like the blowing up into the air of the whole +massive castle, without smoke or dust. + +In half an hour afterwards, the immense concourse had dispersed; +the moon was looking calmly down upon her wrinkled image in the +river; and half-a-dozen men and boys, with bits of lighted candle +in their hands: moving here and there, in search of anything worth +having, that might have been dropped in the press: had the whole +scene to themselves. + +By way of contrast we rode out into old ruined Rome, after all this +firing and booming, to take our leave of the Coliseum. I had seen +it by moonlight before (I could never get through a day without +going back to it), but its tremendous solitude that night is past +all telling. The ghostly pillars in the Forum; the Triumphal +Arches of Old Emperors; those enormous masses of ruins which were +once their palaces; the grass-grown mounds that mark the graves of +ruined temples; the stones of the Via Sacra, smooth with the tread +of feet in ancient Rome; even these were dimmed, in their +transcendent melancholy, by the dark ghost of its bloody holidays, +erect and grim; haunting the old scene; despoiled by pillaging +Popes and fighting Princes, but not laid; wringing wild hands of +weed, and grass, and bramble; and lamenting to the night in every +gap and broken arch--the shadow of its awful self, immovable! + +As we lay down on the grass of the Campagna, next day, on our way +to Florence, hearing the larks sing, we saw that a little wooden +cross had been erected on the spot where the poor Pilgrim Countess +was murdered. So, we piled some loose stones about it, as the +beginning of a mound to her memory, and wondered if we should ever +rest there again, and look back at Rome. + + + +CHAPTER XI--A RAPID DIORAMA + + + +We are bound for Naples! And we cross the threshold of the Eternal +City at yonder gate, the Gate of San Giovanni Laterano, where the +two last objects that attract the notice of a departing visitor, +and the two first objects that attract the notice of an arriving +one, are a proud church and a decaying ruin--good emblems of Rome. + +Our way lies over the Campagna, which looks more solemn on a bright +blue day like this, than beneath a darker sky; the great extent of +ruin being plainer to the eye: and the sunshine through the arches +of the broken aqueducts, showing other broken arches shining +through them in the melancholy distance. When we have traversed +it, and look back from Albano, its dark, undulating surface lies +below us like a stagnant lake, or like a broad, dull Lethe flowing +round the walls of Rome, and separating it from all the world! How +often have the Legions, in triumphant march, gone glittering across +that purple waste, so silent and unpeopled now! How often has the +train of captives looked, with sinking hearts, upon the distant +city, and beheld its population pouring out, to hail the return of +their conqueror! What riot, sensuality and murder, have run mad in +the vast palaces now heaps of brick and shattered marble! What +glare of fires, and roar of popular tumult, and wail of pestilence +and famine, have come sweeping over the wild plain where nothing is +now heard but the wind, and where the solitary lizards gambol +unmolested in the sun! + +The train of wine-carts going into Rome, each driven by a shaggy +peasant reclining beneath a little gipsy-fashioned canopy of sheep- +skin, is ended now, and we go toiling up into a higher country +where there are trees. The next day brings us on the Pontine +Marshes, wearily flat and lonesome, and overgrown with brushwood, +and swamped with water, but with a fine road made across them, +shaded by a long, long avenue. Here and there, we pass a solitary +guard-house; here and there a hovel, deserted, and walled up. Some +herdsmen loiter on the banks of the stream beside the road, and +sometimes a flat-bottomed boat, towed by a man, comes rippling idly +along it. A horseman passes occasionally, carrying a long gun +cross-wise on the saddle before him, and attended by fierce dogs; +but there is nothing else astir save the wind and the shadows, +until we come in sight of Terracina. + +How blue and bright the sea, rolling below the windows of the inn +so famous in robber stories! How picturesque the great crags and +points of rock overhanging to-morrow's narrow road, where galley- +slaves are working in the quarries above, and the sentinels who +guard them lounge on the sea-shore! All night there is the murmur +of the sea beneath the stars; and, in the morning, just at +daybreak, the prospect suddenly becoming expanded, as if by a +miracle, reveals--in the far distance, across the sea there!-- +Naples with its islands, and Vesuvius spouting fire! Within a +quarter of an hour, the whole is gone as if it were a vision in the +clouds, and there is nothing but the sea and sky. + +The Neapolitan frontier crossed, after two hours' travelling; and +the hungriest of soldiers and custom-house officers with difficulty +appeased; we enter, by a gateless portal, into the first Neapolitan +town--Fondi. Take note of Fondi, in the name of all that is +wretched and beggarly. + +A filthy channel of mud and refuse meanders down the centre of the +miserable streets, fed by obscene rivulets that trickle from the +abject houses. There is not a door, a window, or a shutter; not a +roof, a wall, a post, or a pillar, in all Fondi, but is decayed, +and crazy, and rotting away. The wretched history of the town, +with all its sieges and pillages by Barbarossa and the rest, might +have been acted last year. How the gaunt dogs that sneak about the +miserable streets, come to be alive, and undevoured by the people, +is one of the enigmas of the world. + +A hollow-cheeked and scowling people they are! All beggars; but +that's nothing. Look at them as they gather round. Some, are too +indolent to come down-stairs, or are too wisely mistrustful of the +stairs, perhaps, to venture: so stretch out their lean hands from +upper windows, and howl; others, come flocking about us, fighting +and jostling one another, and demanding, incessantly, charity for +the love of God, charity for the love of the Blessed Virgin, +charity for the love of all the Saints. A group of miserable +children, almost naked, screaming forth the same petition, discover +that they can see themselves reflected in the varnish of the +carriage, and begin to dance and make grimaces, that they may have +the pleasure of seeing their antics repeated in this mirror. A +crippled idiot, in the act of striking one of them who drowns his +clamorous demand for charity, observes his angry counterpart in the +panel, stops short, and thrusting out his tongue, begins to wag his +head and chatter. The shrill cry raised at this, awakens half-a- +dozen wild creatures wrapped in frowsy brown cloaks, who are lying +on the church-steps with pots and pans for sale. These, scrambling +up, approach, and beg defiantly. 'I am hungry. Give me something. +Listen to me, Signor. I am hungry!' Then, a ghastly old woman, +fearful of being too late, comes hobbling down the street, +stretching out one hand, and scratching herself all the way with +the other, and screaming, long before she can be heard, 'Charity, +charity! I'll go and pray for you directly, beautiful lady, if +you'll give me charity!' Lastly, the members of a brotherhood for +burying the dead: hideously masked, and attired in shabby black +robes, white at the skirts, with the splashes of many muddy +winters: escorted by a dirty priest, and a congenial cross-bearer: +come hurrying past. Surrounded by this motley concourse, we move +out of Fondi: bad bright eyes glaring at us, out of the darkness +of every crazy tenement, like glistening fragments of its filth and +putrefaction. + +A noble mountain-pass, with the ruins of a fort on a strong +eminence, traditionally called the Fort of Fra Diavolo; the old +town of Itri, like a device in pastry, built up, almost +perpendicularly, on a hill, and approached by long steep flights of +steps; beautiful Mola di Gaeta, whose wines, like those of Albano, +have degenerated since the days of Horace, or his taste for wine +was bad: which is not likely of one who enjoyed it so much, and +extolled it so well; another night upon the road at St. Agatha; a +rest next day at Capua, which is picturesque, but hardly so +seductive to a traveller now, as the soldiers of Praetorian Rome +were wont to find the ancient city of that name; a flat road among +vines festooned and looped from tree to tree; and Mount Vesuvius +close at hand at last!--its cone and summit whitened with snow; and +its smoke hanging over it, in the heavy atmosphere of the day, like +a dense cloud. So we go, rattling down hill, into Naples. + +A funeral is coming up the street, towards us. The body, on an +open bier, borne on a kind of palanquin, covered with a gay cloth +of crimson and gold. The mourners, in white gowns and masks. If +there be death abroad, life is well represented too, for all Naples +would seem to be out of doors, and tearing to and fro in carriages. +Some of these, the common Vetturino vehicles, are drawn by three +horses abreast, decked with smart trappings and great abundance of +brazen ornament, and always going very fast. Not that their loads +are light; for the smallest of them has at least six people inside, +four in front, four or five more hanging on behind, and two or +three more, in a net or bag below the axle-tree, where they lie +half-suffocated with mud and dust. Exhibitors of Punch, buffo +singers with guitars, reciters of poetry, reciters of stories, a +row of cheap exhibitions with clowns and showmen, drums, and +trumpets, painted cloths representing the wonders within, and +admiring crowds assembled without, assist the whirl and bustle. +Ragged lazzaroni lie asleep in doorways, archways, and kennels; the +gentry, gaily dressed, are dashing up and down in carriages on the +Chiaji, or walking in the Public Gardens; and quiet letter-writers, +perched behind their little desks and inkstands under the Portico +of the Great Theatre of San Carlo, in the public street, are +waiting for clients. + +Here is a galley-slave in chains, who wants a letter written to a +friend. He approaches a clerkly-looking man, sitting under the +corner arch, and makes his bargain. He has obtained permission of +the sentinel who guards him: who stands near, leaning against the +wall and cracking nuts. The galley-slave dictates in the ear of +the letter-writer, what he desires to say; and as he can't read +writing, looks intently in his face, to read there whether he sets +down faithfully what he is told. After a time, the galley-slave +becomes discursive--incoherent. The secretary pauses and rubs his +chin. The galley-slave is voluble and energetic. The secretary, +at length, catches the idea, and with the air of a man who knows +how to word it, sets it down; stopping, now and then, to glance +back at his text admiringly. The galley-slave is silent. The +soldier stoically cracks his nuts. Is there anything more to say? +inquires the letter-writer. No more. Then listen, friend of mine. +He reads it through. The galley-slave is quite enchanted. It is +folded, and addressed, and given to him, and he pays the fee. The +secretary falls back indolently in his chair, and takes a book. +The galley-slave gathers up an empty sack. The sentinel throws +away a handful of nut-shells, shoulders his musket, and away they +go together. + +Why do the beggars rap their chins constantly, with their right +hands, when you look at them? Everything is done in pantomime in +Naples, and that is the conventional sign for hunger. A man who is +quarrelling with another, yonder, lays the palm of his right hand +on the back of his left, and shakes the two thumbs--expressive of a +donkey's ears--whereat his adversary is goaded to desperation. Two +people bargaining for fish, the buyer empties an imaginary +waistcoat pocket when he is told the price, and walks away without +a word: having thoroughly conveyed to the seller that he considers +it too dear. Two people in carriages, meeting, one touches his +lips, twice or thrice, holding up the five fingers of his right +hand, and gives a horizontal cut in the air with the palm. The +other nods briskly, and goes his way. He has been invited to a +friendly dinner at half-past five o'clock, and will certainly come. + +All over Italy, a peculiar shake of the right hand from the wrist, +with the forefinger stretched out, expresses a negative--the only +negative beggars will ever understand. But, in Naples, those five +fingers are a copious language. + +All this, and every other kind of out-door life and stir, and +macaroni-eating at sunset, and flower-selling all day long, and +begging and stealing everywhere and at all hours, you see upon the +bright sea-shore, where the waves of the bay sparkle merrily. But, +lovers and hunters of the picturesque, let us not keep too +studiously out of view the miserable depravity, degradation, and +wretchedness, with which this gay Neapolitan life is inseparably +associated! It is not well to find Saint Giles's so repulsive, and +the Porta Capuana so attractive. A pair of naked legs and a ragged +red scarf, do not make ALL the difference between what is +interesting and what is coarse and odious? Painting and poetising +for ever, if you will, the beauties of this most beautiful and +lovely spot of earth, let us, as our duty, try to associate a new +picturesque with some faint recognition of man's destiny and +capabilities; more hopeful, I believe, among the ice and snow of +the North Pole, than in the sun and bloom of Naples. + +Capri--once made odious by the deified beast Tiberius--Ischia, +Procida, and the thousand distant beauties of the Bay, lie in the +blue sea yonder, changing in the mist and sunshine twenty times a- +day: now close at hand, now far off, now unseen. The fairest +country in the world, is spread about us. Whether we turn towards +the Miseno shore of the splendid watery amphitheatre, and go by the +Grotto of Posilipo to the Grotto del Cane and away to Baiae: or +take the other way, towards Vesuvius and Sorrento, it is one +succession of delights. In the last-named direction, where, over +doors and archways, there are countless little images of San +Gennaro, with his Canute's hand stretched out, to check the fury of +the Burning Mountain, we are carried pleasantly, by a railroad on +the beautiful Sea Beach, past the town of Torre del Greco, built +upon the ashes of the former town destroyed by an eruption of +Vesuvius, within a hundred years; and past the flat-roofed houses, +granaries, and macaroni manufactories; to Castel-a-Mare, with its +ruined castle, now inhabited by fishermen, standing in the sea upon +a heap of rocks. Here, the railroad terminates; but, hence we may +ride on, by an unbroken succession of enchanting bays, and +beautiful scenery, sloping from the highest summit of Saint Angelo, +the highest neighbouring mountain, down to the water's edge--among +vineyards, olive-trees, gardens of oranges and lemons, orchards, +heaped-up rocks, green gorges in the hills--and by the bases of +snow-covered heights, and through small towns with handsome, dark- +haired women at the doors--and pass delicious summer villas--to +Sorrento, where the Poet Tasso drew his inspiration from the beauty +surrounding him. Returning, we may climb the heights above Castel- +a-Mare, and looking down among the boughs and leaves, see the crisp +water glistening in the sun; and clusters of white houses in +distant Naples, dwindling, in the great extent of prospect, down to +dice. The coming back to the city, by the beach again, at sunset: +with the glowing sea on one side, and the darkening mountain, with +its smoke and flame, upon the other: is a sublime conclusion to +the glory of the day. + +That church by the Porta Capuana--near the old fisher-market in the +dirtiest quarter of dirty Naples, where the revolt of Masaniello +began--is memorable for having been the scene of one of his +earliest proclamations to the people, and is particularly +remarkable for nothing else, unless it be its waxen and bejewelled +Saint in a glass case, with two odd hands; or the enormous number +of beggars who are constantly rapping their chins there, like a +battery of castanets. The cathedral with the beautiful door, and +the columns of African and Egyptian granite that once ornamented +the temple of Apollo, contains the famous sacred blood of San +Gennaro or Januarius: which is preserved in two phials in a silver +tabernacle, and miraculously liquefies three times a-year, to the +great admiration of the people. At the same moment, the stone +(distant some miles) where the Saint suffered martyrdom, becomes +faintly red. It is said that the officiating priests turn faintly +red also, sometimes, when these miracles occur. + +The old, old men who live in hovels at the entrance of these +ancient catacombs, and who, in their age and infirmity, seem +waiting here, to be buried themselves, are members of a curious +body, called the Royal Hospital, who are the official attendants at +funerals. Two of these old spectres totter away, with lighted +tapers, to show the caverns of death--as unconcerned as if they +were immortal. They were used as burying-places for three hundred +years; and, in one part, is a large pit full of skulls and bones, +said to be the sad remains of a great mortality occasioned by a +plague. In the rest there is nothing but dust. They consist, +chiefly, of great wide corridors and labyrinths, hewn out of the +rock. At the end of some of these long passages, are unexpected +glimpses of the daylight, shining down from above. It looks as +ghastly and as strange; among the torches, and the dust, and the +dark vaults: as if it, too, were dead and buried. + +The present burial-place lies out yonder, on a hill between the +city and Vesuvius. The old Campo Santo with its three hundred and +sixty-five pits, is only used for those who die in hospitals, and +prisons, and are unclaimed by their friends. The graceful new +cemetery, at no great distance from it, though yet unfinished, has +already many graves among its shrubs and flowers, and airy +colonnades. It might be reasonably objected elsewhere, that some +of the tombs are meretricious and too fanciful; but the general +brightness seems to justify it here; and Mount Vesuvius, separated +from them by a lovely slope of ground, exalts and saddens the +scene. + +If it be solemn to behold from this new City of the Dead, with its +dark smoke hanging in the clear sky, how much more awful and +impressive is it, viewed from the ghostly ruins of Herculaneum and +Pompeii! + +Stand at the bottom of the great market-place of Pompeii, and look +up the silent streets, through the ruined temples of Jupiter and +Isis, over the broken houses with their inmost sanctuaries open to +the day, away to Mount Vesuvius, bright and snowy in the peaceful +distance; and lose all count of time, and heed of other things, in +the strange and melancholy sensation of seeing the Destroyed and +the Destroyer making this quiet picture in the sun. Then, ramble +on, and see, at every turn, the little familiar tokens of human +habitation and every-day pursuits; the chafing of the bucket-rope +in the stone rim of the exhausted well; the track of carriage- +wheels in the pavement of the street; the marks of drinking-vessels +on the stone counter of the wine-shop; the amphorae in private +cellars, stored away so many hundred years ago, and undisturbed to +this hour--all rendering the solitude and deadly lonesomeness of +the place, ten thousand times more solemn, than if the volcano, in +its fury, had swept the city from the earth, and sunk it in the +bottom of the sea. + +After it was shaken by the earthquake which preceded the eruption, +workmen were employed in shaping out, in stone, new ornaments for +temples and other buildings that had suffered. Here lies their +work, outside the city gate, as if they would return to-morrow. + +In the cellar of Diomede's house, where certain skeletons were +found huddled together, close to the door, the impression of their +bodies on the ashes, hardened with the ashes, and became stamped +and fixed there, after they had shrunk, inside, to scanty bones. +So, in the theatre of Herculaneum, a comic mask, floating on the +stream when it was hot and liquid, stamped its mimic features in it +as it hardened into stone; and now, it turns upon the stranger the +fantastic look it turned upon the audiences in that same theatre +two thousand years ago. + +Next to the wonder of going up and down the streets, and in and out +of the houses, and traversing the secret chambers of the temples of +a religion that has vanished from the earth, and finding so many +fresh traces of remote antiquity: as if the course of Time had +been stopped after this desolation, and there had been no nights +and days, months, years, and centuries, since: nothing is more +impressive and terrible than the many evidences of the searching +nature of the ashes, as bespeaking their irresistible power, and +the impossibility of escaping them. In the wine-cellars, they +forced their way into the earthen vessels: displacing the wine and +choking them, to the brim, with dust. In the tombs, they forced +the ashes of the dead from the funeral urns, and rained new ruin +even into them. The mouths, and eyes, and skulls of all the +skeletons, were stuffed with this terrible hail. In Herculaneum, +where the flood was of a different and a heavier kind, it rolled +in, like a sea. Imagine a deluge of water turned to marble, at its +height--and that is what is called 'the lava' here. + +Some workmen were digging the gloomy well on the brink of which we +now stand, looking down, when they came on some of the stone +benches of the theatre--those steps (for such they seem) at the +bottom of the excavation--and found the buried city of Herculaneum. +Presently going down, with lighted torches, we are perplexed by +great walls of monstrous thickness, rising up between the benches, +shutting out the stage, obtruding their shapeless forms in absurd +places, confusing the whole plan, and making it a disordered dream. +We cannot, at first, believe, or picture to ourselves, that THIS +came rolling in, and drowned the city; and that all that is not +here, has been cut away, by the axe, like solid stone. But this +perceived and understood, the horror and oppression of its presence +are indescribable. + +Many of the paintings on the walls in the roofless chambers of both +cities, or carefully removed to the museum at Naples, are as fresh +and plain, as if they had been executed yesterday. Here are +subjects of still life, as provisions, dead game, bottles, glasses, +and the like; familiar classical stories, or mythological fables, +always forcibly and plainly told; conceits of cupids, quarrelling, +sporting, working at trades; theatrical rehearsals; poets reading +their productions to their friends; inscriptions chalked upon the +walls; political squibs, advertisements, rough drawings by +schoolboys; everything to people and restore the ancient cities, in +the fancy of their wondering visitor. Furniture, too, you see, of +every kind--lamps, tables, couches; vessels for eating, drinking, +and cooking; workmen's tools, surgical instruments, tickets for the +theatre, pieces of money, personal ornaments, bunches of keys found +clenched in the grasp of skeletons, helmets of guards and warriors; +little household bells, yet musical with their old domestic tones. + +The least among these objects, lends its aid to swell the interest +of Vesuvius, and invest it with a perfect fascination. The +looking, from either ruined city, into the neighbouring grounds +overgrown with beautiful vines and luxuriant trees; and remembering +that house upon house, temple on temple, building after building, +and street after street, are still lying underneath the roots of +all the quiet cultivation, waiting to be turned up to the light of +day; is something so wonderful, so full of mystery, so captivating +to the imagination, that one would think it would be paramount, and +yield to nothing else. To nothing but Vesuvius; but the mountain +is the genius of the scene. From every indication of the ruin it +has worked, we look, again, with an absorbing interest to where its +smoke is rising up into the sky. It is beyond us, as we thread the +ruined streets: above us, as we stand upon the ruined walls, we +follow it through every vista of broken columns, as we wander +through the empty court-yards of the houses; and through the +garlandings and interlacings of every wanton vine. Turning away to +Paestum yonder, to see the awful structures built, the least aged +of them, hundreds of years before the birth of Christ, and standing +yet, erect in lonely majesty, upon the wild, malaria-blighted +plain--we watch Vesuvius as it disappears from the prospect, and +watch for it again, on our return, with the same thrill of +interest: as the doom and destiny of all this beautiful country, +biding its terrible time. + +It is very warm in the sun, on this early spring-day, when we +return from Paestum, but very cold in the shade: insomuch, that +although we may lunch, pleasantly, at noon, in the open air, by the +gate of Pompeii, the neighbouring rivulet supplies thick ice for +our wine. But, the sun is shining brightly; there is not a cloud +or speck of vapour in the whole blue sky, looking down upon the bay +of Naples; and the moon will be at the full to-night. No matter +that the snow and ice lie thick upon the summit of Vesuvius, or +that we have been on foot all day at Pompeii, or that croakers +maintain that strangers should not be on the mountain by night, in +such an unusual season. Let us take advantage of the fine weather; +make the best of our way to Resina, the little village at the foot +of the mountain; prepare ourselves, as well as we can, on so short +a notice, at the guide's house; ascend at once, and have sunset +half-way up, moonlight at the top, and midnight to come down in! + +At four o'clock in the afternoon, there is a terrible uproar in the +little stable-yard of Signior Salvatore, the recognised head-guide, +with the gold band round his cap; and thirty under-guides who are +all scuffling and screaming at once, are preparing half-a-dozen +saddled ponies, three litters, and some stout staves, for the +journey. Every one of the thirty, quarrels with the other twenty- +nine, and frightens the six ponies; and as much of the village as +can possibly squeeze itself into the little stable-yard, +participates in the tumult, and gets trodden on by the cattle. + +After much violent skirmishing, and more noise than would suffice +for the storming of Naples, the procession starts. The head-guide, +who is liberally paid for all the attendants, rides a little in +advance of the party; the other thirty guides proceed on foot. +Eight go forward with the litters that are to be used by-and-by; +and the remaining two-and-twenty beg. + +We ascend, gradually, by stony lanes like rough broad flights of +stairs, for some time. At length, we leave these, and the +vineyards on either side of them, and emerge upon a bleak bare +region where the lava lies confusedly, in enormous rusty masses; as +if the earth had been ploughed up by burning thunderbolts. And +now, we halt to see the sun set. The change that falls upon the +dreary region, and on the whole mountain, as its red light fades, +and the night comes on--and the unutterable solemnity and +dreariness that reign around, who that has witnessed it, can ever +forget! + +It is dark, when after winding, for some time, over the broken +ground, we arrive at the foot of the cone: which is extremely +steep, and seems to rise, almost perpendicularly, from the spot +where we dismount. The only light is reflected from the snow, +deep, hard, and white, with which the cone is covered. It is now +intensely cold, and the air is piercing. The thirty-one have +brought no torches, knowing that the moon will rise before we reach +the top. Two of the litters are devoted to the two ladies; the +third, to a rather heavy gentleman from Naples, whose hospitality +and good-nature have attached him to the expedition, and determined +him to assist in doing the honours of the mountain. The rather +heavy gentleman is carried by fifteen men; each of the ladies by +half-a-dozen. We who walk, make the best use of our staves; and so +the whole party begin to labour upward over the snow,--as if they +were toiling to the summit of an antediluvian Twelfth-cake. + +We are a long time toiling up; and the head-guide looks oddly about +him when one of the company--not an Italian, though an habitue of +the mountain for many years: whom we will call, for our present +purpose, Mr. Pickle of Portici--suggests that, as it is freezing +hard, and the usual footing of ashes is covered by the snow and +ice, it will surely be difficult to descend. But the sight of the +litters above, tilting up and down, and jerking from this side to +that, as the bearers continually slip and tumble, diverts our +attention; more especially as the whole length of the rather heavy +gentleman is, at that moment, presented to us alarmingly +foreshortened, with his head downwards. + +The rising of the moon soon afterwards, revives the flagging +spirits of the bearers. Stimulating each other with their usual +watchword, 'Courage, friend! It is to eat macaroni!' they press +on, gallantly, for the summit. + +From tingeing the top of the snow above us, with a band of light, +and pouring it in a stream through the valley below, while we have +been ascending in the dark, the moon soon lights the whole white +mountain-side, and the broad sea down below, and tiny Naples in the +distance, and every village in the country round. The whole +prospect is in this lovely state, when we come upon the platform on +the mountain-top--the region of Fire--an exhausted crater formed of +great masses of gigantic cinders, like blocks of stone from some +tremendous waterfall, burnt up; from every chink and crevice of +which, hot, sulphurous smoke is pouring out: while, from another +conical-shaped hill, the present crater, rising abruptly from this +platform at the end, great sheets of fire are streaming forth: +reddening the night with flame, blackening it with smoke, and +spotting it with red-hot stones and cinders, that fly up into the +air like feathers, and fall down like lead. What words can paint +the gloom and grandeur of this scene! + +The broken ground; the smoke; the sense of suffocation from the +sulphur: the fear of falling down through the crevices in the +yawning ground; the stopping, every now and then, for somebody who +is missing in the dark (for the dense smoke now obscures the moon); +the intolerable noise of the thirty; and the hoarse roaring of the +mountain; make it a scene of such confusion, at the same time, that +we reel again. But, dragging the ladies through it, and across +another exhausted crater to the foot of the present Volcano, we +approach close to it on the windy side, and then sit down among the +hot ashes at its foot, and look up in silence; faintly estimating +the action that is going on within, from its being full a hundred +feet higher, at this minute, than it was six weeks ago. + +There is something in the fire and roar, that generates an +irresistible desire to get nearer to it. We cannot rest long, +without starting off, two of us, on our hands and knees, +accompanied by the head-guide, to climb to the brim of the flaming +crater, and try to look in. Meanwhile, the thirty yell, as with +one voice, that it is a dangerous proceeding, and call to us to +come back; frightening the rest of the party out of their wits. + +What with their noise, and what with the trembling of the thin +crust of ground, that seems about to open underneath our feet and +plunge us in the burning gulf below (which is the real danger, if +there be any); and what with the flashing of the fire in our faces, +and the shower of red-hot ashes that is raining down, and the +choking smoke and sulphur; we may well feel giddy and irrational, +like drunken men. But, we contrive to climb up to the brim, and +look down, for a moment, into the Hell of boiling fire below. +Then, we all three come rolling down; blackened, and singed, and +scorched, and hot, and giddy: and each with his dress alight in +half-a-dozen places. + +You have read, a thousand times, that the usual way of descending, +is, by sliding down the ashes: which, forming a gradually- +increasing ledge below the feet, prevent too rapid a descent. But, +when we have crossed the two exhausted craters on our way back and +are come to this precipitous place, there is (as Mr. Pickle has +foretold) no vestige of ashes to be seen; the whole being a smooth +sheet of ice. + +In this dilemma, ten or a dozen of the guides cautiously join +hands, and make a chain of men; of whom the foremost beat, as well +as they can, a rough track with their sticks, down which we prepare +to follow. The way being fearfully steep, and none of the party: +even of the thirty: being able to keep their feet for six paces +together, the ladies are taken out of their litters, and placed, +each between two careful persons; while others of the thirty hold +by their skirts, to prevent their falling forward--a necessary +precaution, tending to the immediate and hopeless dilapidation of +their apparel. The rather heavy gentleman is abjured to leave his +litter too, and be escorted in a similar manner; but he resolves to +be brought down as he was brought up, on the principle that his +fifteen bearers are not likely to tumble all at once, and that he +is safer so, than trusting to his own legs. + +In this order, we begin the descent: sometimes on foot, sometimes +shuffling on the ice: always proceeding much more quietly and +slowly, than on our upward way: and constantly alarmed by the +falling among us of somebody from behind, who endangers the footing +of the whole party, and clings pertinaciously to anybody's ankles. +It is impossible for the litter to be in advance, too, as the track +has to be made; and its appearance behind us, overhead--with some +one or other of the bearers always down, and the rather heavy +gentleman with his legs always in the air--is very threatening and +frightful. We have gone on thus, a very little way, painfully and +anxiously, but quite merrily, and regarding it as a great success-- +and have all fallen several times, and have all been stopped, +somehow or other, as we were sliding away--when Mr. Pickle of +Portici, in the act of remarking on these uncommon circumstances as +quite beyond his experience, stumbles, falls, disengages himself, +with quick presence of mind, from those about him, plunges away +head foremost, and rolls, over and over, down the whole surface of +the cone! + +Sickening as it is to look, and be so powerless to help him, I see +him there, in the moonlight--I have had such a dream often-- +skimming over the white ice, like a cannon-ball. Almost at the +same moment, there is a cry from behind; and a man who has carried +a light basket of spare cloaks on his head, comes rolling past, at +the same frightful speed, closely followed by a boy. At this +climax of the chapter of accidents, the remaining eight-and-twenty +vociferate to that degree, that a pack of wolves would be music to +them! + +Giddy, and bloody, and a mere bundle of rags, is Pickle of Portici +when we reach the place where we dismounted, and where the horses +are waiting; but, thank God, sound in limb! And never are we +likely to be more glad to see a man alive and on his feet, than to +see him now--making light of it too, though sorely bruised and in +great pain. The boy is brought into the Hermitage on the Mountain, +while we are at supper, with his head tied up; and the man is heard +of, some hours afterwards. He too is bruised and stunned, but has +broken no bones; the snow having, fortunately, covered all the +larger blocks of rock and stone, and rendered them harmless. + +After a cheerful meal, and a good rest before a blazing fire, we +again take horse, and continue our descent to Salvatore's house-- +very slowly, by reason of our bruised friend being hardly able to +keep the saddle, or endure the pain of motion. Though it is so +late at night, or early in the morning, all the people of the +village are waiting about the little stable-yard when we arrive, +and looking up the road by which we are expected. Our appearance +is hailed with a great clamour of tongues, and a general sensation +for which in our modesty we are somewhat at a loss to account, +until, turning into the yard, we find that one of a party of French +gentlemen who were on the mountain at the same time is lying on +some straw in the stable, with a broken limb: looking like Death, +and suffering great torture; and that we were confidently supposed +to have encountered some worse accident. + +So 'well returned, and Heaven be praised!' as the cheerful +Vetturino, who has borne us company all the way from Pisa, says, +with all his heart! And away with his ready horses, into sleeping +Naples! + +It wakes again to Policinelli and pickpockets, buffo singers and +beggars, rags, puppets, flowers, brightness, dirt, and universal +degradation; airing its Harlequin suit in the sunshine, next day +and every day; singing, starving, dancing, gaming, on the sea- +shore; and leaving all labour to the burning mountain, which is +ever at its work. + +Our English dilettanti would be very pathetic on the subject of the +national taste, if they could hear an Italian opera half as badly +sung in England as we may hear the Foscari performed, to-night, in +the splendid theatre of San Carlo. But, for astonishing truth and +spirit in seizing and embodying the real life about it, the shabby +little San Carlino Theatre--the rickety house one story high, with +a staring picture outside: down among the drums and trumpets, and +the tumblers, and the lady conjurer--is without a rival anywhere. + +There is one extraordinary feature in the real life of Naples, at +which we may take a glance before we go--the Lotteries. + +They prevail in most parts of Italy, but are particularly obvious, +in their effects and influences, here. They are drawn every +Saturday. They bring an immense revenue to the Government; and +diffuse a taste for gambling among the poorest of the poor, which +is very comfortable to the coffers of the State, and very ruinous +to themselves. The lowest stake is one grain; less than a +farthing. One hundred numbers--from one to a hundred, inclusive-- +are put into a box. Five are drawn. Those are the prizes. I buy +three numbers. If one of them come up, I win a small prize. If +two, some hundreds of times my stake. If three, three thousand +five hundred times my stake. I stake (or play as they call it) +what I can upon my numbers, and buy what numbers I please. The +amount I play, I pay at the lottery office, where I purchase the +ticket; and it is stated on the ticket itself. + +Every lottery office keeps a printed book, an Universal Lottery +Diviner, where every possible accident and circumstance is provided +for, and has a number against it. For instance, let us take two +carlini--about sevenpence. On our way to the lottery office, we +run against a black man. When we get there, we say gravely, 'The +Diviner.' It is handed over the counter, as a serious matter of +business. We look at black man. Such a number. 'Give us that.' +We look at running against a person in the street. 'Give us that. +' We look at the name of the street itself. 'Give us that.' Now, +we have our three numbers. + +If the roof of the theatre of San Carlo were to fall in, so many +people would play upon the numbers attached to such an accident in +the Diviner, that the Government would soon close those numbers, +and decline to run the risk of losing any more upon them. This +often happens. Not long ago, when there was a fire in the King's +Palace, there was such a desperate run on fire, and king, and +palace, that further stakes on the numbers attached to those words +in the Golden Book were forbidden. Every accident or event, is +supposed, by the ignorant populace, to be a revelation to the +beholder, or party concerned, in connection with the lottery. +Certain people who have a talent for dreaming fortunately, are much +sought after; and there are some priests who are constantly +favoured with visions of the lucky numbers. + +I heard of a horse running away with a man, and dashing him down, +dead, at the corner of a street. Pursuing the horse with +incredible speed, was another man, who ran so fast, that he came +up, immediately after the accident. He threw himself upon his +knees beside the unfortunate rider, and clasped his hand with an +expression of the wildest grief. 'If you have life,' he said, +'speak one word to me! If you have one gasp of breath left, +mention your age for Heaven's sake, that I may play that number in +the lottery.' + +It is four o'clock in the afternoon, and we may go to see our +lottery drawn. The ceremony takes place every Saturday, in the +Tribunale, or Court of Justice--this singular, earthy-smelling +room, or gallery, as mouldy as an old cellar, and as damp as a +dungeon. At the upper end is a platform, with a large horse-shoe +table upon it; and a President and Council sitting round--all +judges of the Law. The man on the little stool behind the +President, is the Capo Lazzarone, a kind of tribune of the people, +appointed on their behalf to see that all is fairly conducted: +attended by a few personal friends. A ragged, swarthy fellow he +is: with long matted hair hanging down all over his face: and +covered, from head to foot, with most unquestionably genuine dirt. +All the body of the room is filled with the commonest of the +Neapolitan people: and between them and the platform, guarding the +steps leading to the latter, is a small body of soldiers. + +There is some delay in the arrival of the necessary number of +judges; during which, the box, in which the numbers are being +placed, is a source of the deepest interest. When the box is full, +the boy who is to draw the numbers out of it becomes the prominent +feature of the proceedings. He is already dressed for his part, in +a tight brown Holland coat, with only one (the left) sleeve to it, +which leaves his right arm bared to the shoulder, ready for +plunging down into the mysterious chest. + +During the hush and whisper that pervade the room, all eyes are +turned on this young minister of fortune. People begin to inquire +his age, with a view to the next lottery; and the number of his +brothers and sisters; and the age of his father and mother; and +whether he has any moles or pimples upon him; and where, and how +many; when the arrival of the last judge but one (a little old man, +universally dreaded as possessing the Evil Eye) makes a slight +diversion, and would occasion a greater one, but that he is +immediately deposed, as a source of interest, by the officiating +priest, who advances gravely to his place, followed by a very dirty +little boy, carrying his sacred vestments, and a pot of Holy Water. + +Here is the last judge come at last, and now he takes his place at +the horse-shoe table. + +There is a murmur of irrepressible agitation. In the midst of it, +the priest puts his head into the sacred vestments, and pulls the +same over his shoulders. Then he says a silent prayer; and dipping +a brush into the pot of Holy Water, sprinkles it over the box--and +over the boy, and gives them a double-barrelled blessing, which the +box and the boy are both hoisted on the table to receive. The boy +remaining on the table, the box is now carried round the front of +the platform, by an attendant, who holds it up and shakes it +lustily all the time; seeming to say, like the conjurer, 'There is +no deception, ladies and gentlemen; keep your eyes upon me, if you +please!' + +At last, the box is set before the boy; and the boy, first holding +up his naked arm and open hand, dives down into the hole (it is +made like a ballot-box) and pulls out a number, which is rolled up, +round something hard, like a bonbon. This he hands to the judge +next him, who unrolls a little bit, and hands it to the President, +next to whom he sits. The President unrolls it, very slowly. The +Capo Lazzarone leans over his shoulder. The President holds it up, +unrolled, to the Capo Lazzarone. The Capo Lazzarone, looking at it +eagerly, cries out, in a shrill, loud voice, 'Sessantadue!' (sixty- +two), expressing the two upon his fingers, as he calls it out. +Alas! the Capo Lazzarone himself has not staked on sixty-two. His +face is very long, and his eyes roll wildly. + +As it happens to be a favourite number, however, it is pretty well +received, which is not always the case. They are all drawn with +the same ceremony, omitting the blessing. One blessing is enough +for the whole multiplication-table. The only new incident in the +proceedings, is the gradually deepening intensity of the change in +the Cape Lazzarone, who has, evidently, speculated to the very +utmost extent of his means; and who, when he sees the last number, +and finds that it is not one of his, clasps his hands, and raises +his eyes to the ceiling before proclaiming it, as though +remonstrating, in a secret agony, with his patron saint, for having +committed so gross a breach of confidence. I hope the Capo +Lazzarone may not desert him for some other member of the Calendar, +but he seems to threaten it. + +Where the winners may be, nobody knows. They certainly are not +present; the general disappointment filling one with pity for the +poor people. They look: when we stand aside, observing them, in +their passage through the court-yard down below: as miserable as +the prisoners in the gaol (it forms a part of the building), who +are peeping down upon them, from between their bars; or, as the +fragments of human heads which are still dangling in chains +outside, in memory of the good old times, when their owners were +strung up there, for the popular edification. + +Away from Naples in a glorious sunrise, by the road to Capua, and +then on a three days' journey along by-roads, that we may see, on +the way, the monastery of Monte Cassino, which is perched on the +steep and lofty hill above the little town of San Germano, and is +lost on a misty morning in the clouds. + +So much the better, for the deep sounding of its bell, which, as we +go winding up, on mules, towards the convent, is heard mysteriously +in the still air, while nothing is seen but the grey mist, moving +solemnly and slowly, like a funeral procession. Behold, at length +the shadowy pile of building close before us: its grey walls and +towers dimly seen, though so near and so vast: and the raw vapour +rolling through its cloisters heavily. + +There are two black shadows walking to and fro in the quadrangle, +near the statues of the Patron Saint and his sister; and hopping on +behind them, in and out of the old arches, is a raven, croaking in +answer to the bell, and uttering, at intervals, the purest Tuscan. +How like a Jesuit he looks! There never was a sly and stealthy +fellow so at home as is this raven, standing now at the refectory +door, with his head on one side, and pretending to glance another +way, while he is scrutinizing the visitors keenly, and listening +with fixed attention. What a dull-headed monk the porter becomes +in comparison! + +'He speaks like us!' says the porter: 'quite as plainly.' Quite +as plainly, Porter. Nothing could be more expressive than his +reception of the peasants who are entering the gate with baskets +and burdens. There is a roll in his eye, and a chuckle in his +throat, which should qualify him to be chosen Superior of an Order +of Ravens. He knows all about it. 'It's all right,' he says. 'We +know what we know. Come along, good people. Glad to see you!' +How was this extraordinary structure ever built in such a +situation, where the labour of conveying the stone, and iron, and +marble, so great a height, must have been prodigious? 'Caw!' says +the raven, welcoming the peasants. How, being despoiled by +plunder, fire and earthquake, has it risen from its ruins, and been +again made what we now see it, with its church so sumptuous and +magnificent? 'Caw!' says the raven, welcoming the peasants. These +people have a miserable appearance, and (as usual) are densely +ignorant, and all beg, while the monks are chaunting in the chapel. +'Caw!' says the raven, 'Cuckoo!' + +So we leave him, chuckling and rolling his eye at the convent gate, +and wind slowly down again through the cloud. At last emerging +from it, we come in sight of the village far below, and the flat +green country intersected by rivulets; which is pleasant and fresh +to see after the obscurity and haze of the convent--no disrespect +to the raven, or the holy friars. + +Away we go again, by muddy roads, and through the most shattered +and tattered of villages, where there is not a whole window among +all the houses, or a whole garment among all the peasants, or the +least appearance of anything to eat, in any of the wretched +hucksters' shops. The women wear a bright red bodice laced before +and behind, a white skirt, and the Neapolitan head-dress of square +folds of linen, primitively meant to carry loads on. The men and +children wear anything they can get. The soldiers are as dirty and +rapacious as the dogs. The inns are such hobgoblin places, that +they are infinitely more attractive and amusing than the best +hotels in Paris. Here is one near Valmontone (that is Valmontone +the round, walled town on the mount opposite), which is approached +by a quagmire almost knee-deep. There is a wild colonnade below, +and a dark yard full of empty stables and lofts, and a great long +kitchen with a great long bench and a great long form, where a +party of travellers, with two priests among them, are crowding +round the fire while their supper is cooking. Above stairs, is a +rough brick gallery to sit in, with very little windows with very +small patches of knotty glass in them, and all the doors that open +from it (a dozen or two) off their hinges, and a bare board on +tressels for a table, at which thirty people might dine easily, and +a fireplace large enough in itself for a breakfast-parlour, where, +as the faggots blaze and crackle, they illuminate the ugliest and +grimmest of faces, drawn in charcoal on the whitewashed chimney- +sides by previous travellers. There is a flaring country lamp on +the table; and, hovering about it, scratching her thick black hair +continually, a yellow dwarf of a woman, who stands on tiptoe to +arrange the hatchet knives, and takes a flying leap to look into +the water-jug. The beds in the adjoining rooms are of the +liveliest kind. There is not a solitary scrap of looking-glass in +the house, and the washing apparatus is identical with the cooking +utensils. But the yellow dwarf sets on the table a good flask of +excellent wine, holding a quart at least; and produces, among half- +a-dozen other dishes, two-thirds of a roasted kid, smoking hot. +She is as good-humoured, too, as dirty, which is saying a great +deal. So here's long life to her, in the flask of wine, and +prosperity to the establishment. + +Rome gained and left behind, and with it the Pilgrims who are now +repairing to their own homes again--each with his scallop shell and +staff, and soliciting alms for the love of God--we come, by a fair +country, to the Falls of Terni, where the whole Velino river +dashes, headlong, from a rocky height, amidst shining spray and +rainbows. Perugia, strongly fortified by art and nature, on a +lofty eminence, rising abruptly from the plain where purple +mountains mingle with the distant sky, is glowing, on its market- +day, with radiant colours. They set off its sombre but rich Gothic +buildings admirably. The pavement of its market-place is strewn +with country goods. All along the steep hill leading from the +town, under the town wall, there is a noisy fair of calves, lambs, +pigs, horses, mules, and oxen. Fowls, geese, and turkeys, flutter +vigorously among their very hoofs; and buyers, sellers, and +spectators, clustering everywhere, block up the road as we come +shouting down upon them. + +Suddenly, there is a ringing sound among our horses. The driver +stops them. Sinking in his saddle, and casting up his eyes to +Heaven, he delivers this apostrophe, 'Oh Jove Omnipotent! here is a +horse has lost his shoe!' + +Notwithstanding the tremendous nature of this accident, and the +utterly forlorn look and gesture (impossible in any one but an +Italian Vetturino) with which it is announced, it is not long in +being repaired by a mortal Farrier, by whose assistance we reach +Castiglione the same night, and Arezzo next day. Mass is, of +course, performing in its fine cathedral, where the sun shines in +among the clustered pillars, through rich stained-glass windows: +half revealing, half concealing the kneeling figures on the +pavement, and striking out paths of spotted light in the long +aisles. + +But, how much beauty of another kind is here, when, on a fair clear +morning, we look, from the summit of a hill, on Florence! See +where it lies before us in a sun-lighted valley, bright with the +winding Arno, and shut in by swelling hills; its domes, and towers, +and palaces, rising from the rich country in a glittering heap, and +shining in the sun like gold! + +Magnificently stern and sombre are the streets of beautiful +Florence; and the strong old piles of building make such heaps of +shadow, on the ground and in the river, that there is another and a +different city of rich forms and fancies, always lying at our feet. +Prodigious palaces, constructed for defence, with small distrustful +windows heavily barred, and walls of great thickness formed of huge +masses of rough stone, frown, in their old sulky state, on every +street. In the midst of the city--in the Piazza of the Grand Duke, +adorned with beautiful statues and the Fountain of Neptune--rises +the Palazzo Vecchio, with its enormous overhanging battlements, and +the Great Tower that watches over the whole town. In its court- +yard--worthy of the Castle of Otranto in its ponderous gloom--is a +massive staircase that the heaviest waggon and the stoutest team of +horses might be driven up. Within it, is a Great Saloon, faded and +tarnished in its stately decorations, and mouldering by grains, but +recording yet, in pictures on its walls, the triumphs of the Medici +and the wars of the old Florentine people. The prison is hard by, +in an adjacent court-yard of the building--a foul and dismal place, +where some men are shut up close, in small cells like ovens; and +where others look through bars and beg; where some are playing +draughts, and some are talking to their friends, who smoke, the +while, to purify the air; and some are buying wine and fruit of +women-vendors; and all are squalid, dirty, and vile to look at. +'They are merry enough, Signore,' says the jailer. 'They are all +blood-stained here,' he adds, indicating, with his hand, three- +fourths of the whole building. Before the hour is out, an old man, +eighty years of age, quarrelling over a bargain with a young girl +of seventeen, stabs her dead, in the market-place full of bright +flowers; and is brought in prisoner, to swell the number. + +Among the four old bridges that span the river, the Ponte Vecchio-- +that bridge which is covered with the shops of Jewellers and +Goldsmiths--is a most enchanting feature in the scene. The space +of one house, in the centre, being left open, the view beyond is +shown as in a frame; and that precious glimpse of sky, and water, +and rich buildings, shining so quietly among the huddled roofs and +gables on the bridge, is exquisite. Above it, the Gallery of the +Grand Duke crosses the river. It was built to connect the two +Great Palaces by a secret passage; and it takes its jealous course +among the streets and houses, with true despotism: going where it +lists, and spurning every obstacle away, before it. + +The Grand Duke has a worthier secret passage through the streets, +in his black robe and hood, as a member of the Compagnia della +Misericordia, which brotherhood includes all ranks of men. If an +accident take place, their office is, to raise the sufferer, and +bear him tenderly to the Hospital. If a fire break out, it is one +of their functions to repair to the spot, and render their +assistance and protection. It is, also, among their commonest +offices, to attend and console the sick; and they neither receive +money, nor eat, nor drink, in any house they visit for this +purpose. Those who are on duty for the time, are all called +together, on a moment's notice, by the tolling of the great bell of +the Tower; and it is said that the Grand Duke has been seen, at +this sound, to rise from his seat at table, and quietly withdraw to +attend the summons. + +In this other large Piazza, where an irregular kind of market is +held, and stores of old iron and other small merchandise are set +out on stalls, or scattered on the pavement, are grouped together, +the Cathedral with its great Dome, the beautiful Italian Gothic +Tower the Campanile, and the Baptistery with its wrought bronze +doors. And here, a small untrodden square in the pavement, is 'the +Stone of DANTE,' where (so runs the story) he was used to bring his +stool, and sit in contemplation. I wonder was he ever, in his +bitter exile, withheld from cursing the very stones in the streets +of Florence the ungrateful, by any kind remembrance of this old +musing-place, and its association with gentle thoughts of little +Beatrice! + +The chapel of the Medici, the Good and Bad Angels, of Florence; the +church of Santa Croce where Michael Angelo lies buried, and where +every stone in the cloisters is eloquent on great men's deaths; +innumerable churches, often masses of unfinished heavy brickwork +externally, but solemn and serene within; arrest our lingering +steps, in strolling through the city. + +In keeping with the tombs among the cloisters, is the Museum of +Natural History, famous through the world for its preparations in +wax; beginning with models of leaves, seeds, plants, inferior +animals; and gradually ascending, through separate organs of the +human frame, up to the whole structure of that wonderful creation, +exquisitely presented, as in recent death. Few admonitions of our +frail mortality can be more solemn and more sad, or strike so home +upon the heart, as the counterfeits of Youth and Beauty that are +lying there, upon their beds, in their last sleep. + +Beyond the walls, the whole sweet Valley of the Arno, the convent +at Fiesole, the Tower of Galileo, BOCCACCIO'S house, old villas and +retreats; innumerable spots of interest, all glowing in a landscape +of surpassing beauty steeped in the richest light; are spread +before us. Returning from so much brightness, how solemn and how +grand the streets again, with their great, dark, mournful palaces, +and many legends: not of siege, and war, and might, and Iron Hand +alone, but of the triumphant growth of peaceful Arts and Sciences. + +What light is shed upon the world, at this day, from amidst these +rugged Palaces of Florence! Here, open to all comers, in their +beautiful and calm retreats, the ancient Sculptors are immortal, +side by side with Michael Angelo, Canova, Titian, Rembrandt, +Raphael, Poets, Historians, Philosophers--those illustrious men of +history, beside whom its crowned heads and harnessed warriors show +so poor and small, and are so soon forgotten. Here, the +imperishable part of noble minds survives, placid and equal, when +strongholds of assault and defence are overthrown; when the tyranny +of the many, or the few, or both, is but a tale; when Pride and +Power are so much cloistered dust. The fire within the stern +streets, and among the massive Palaces and Towers, kindled by rays +from Heaven, is still burning brightly, when the flickering of war +is extinguished and the household fires of generations have +decayed; as thousands upon thousands of faces, rigid with the +strife and passion of the hour, have faded out of the old Squares +and public haunts, while the nameless Florentine Lady, preserved +from oblivion by a Painter's hand, yet lives on, in enduring grace +and youth. + +Let us look back on Florence while we may, and when its shining +Dome is seen no more, go travelling through cheerful Tuscany, with +a bright remembrance of it; for Italy will be the fairer for the +recollection. The summer-time being come: and Genoa, and Milan, +and the Lake of Como lying far behind us: and we resting at Faido, +a Swiss village, near the awful rocks and mountains, the +everlasting snows and roaring cataracts, of the Great Saint +Gothard: hearing the Italian tongue for the last time on this +journey: let us part from Italy, with all its miseries and wrongs, +affectionately, in our admiration of the beauties, natural and +artificial, of which it is full to overflowing, and in our +tenderness towards a people, naturally well-disposed, and patient, +and sweet-tempered. Years of neglect, oppression, and misrule, +have been at work, to change their nature and reduce their spirit; +miserable jealousies, fomented by petty Princes to whom union was +destruction, and division strength, have been a canker at their +root of nationality, and have barbarized their language; but the +good that was in them ever, is in them yet, and a noble people may +be, one day, raised up from these ashes. Let us entertain that +hope! And let us not remember Italy the less regardfully, because, +in every fragment of her fallen Temples, and every stone of her +deserted palaces and prisons, she helps to inculcate the lesson +that the wheel of Time is rolling for an end, and that the world +is, in all great essentials, better, gentler, more forbearing, and +more hopeful, as it rolls! + + + +Footnotes: + +{1} This was written in 1846. + +{2} A far more liberal and just recognition of the public has +arisen in Westminster Abbey since this was written. + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, PICTURES FROM ITALY *** + +This file should be named picit10.txt or picit10.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, picit11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, picit10a.txt + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext04 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext04 + +Or /etext03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + diff --git a/old/picit10.zip b/old/picit10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b32635b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/picit10.zip diff --git a/old/picit10h.htm b/old/picit10h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b772861 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/picit10h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7231 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII"> +<title>Pictures from Italy</title> +</head> +<body> +<h2> +<a href="#startoftext">Pictures from Italy, by Charles Dickens</a> +</h2> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pictures from Italy, by Charles Dickens +(#7 in our series by Charles Dickens) + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Pictures from Italy + +Author: Charles Dickens + +Release Date: September, 1996 [EBook #650] +[This file was first posted on September 17, 1996] +[Most recently updated: September 2, 2002] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII +</pre> +<p> +<a name="startoftext"></a> +Transcribed from the 1913 Chapman & Hall, Ltd. edition by David +Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +PICTURES FROM ITALY<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +THE READER’S PASSPORT<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +If the readers of this volume will be so kind as to take their credentials +for the different places which are the subject of its author’s +reminiscences, from the Author himself, perhaps they may visit them, +in fancy, the more agreeably, and with a better understanding of what +they are to expect.<br> +<br> +Many books have been written upon Italy, affording many means of studying +the history of that interesting country, and the innumerable associations +entwined about it. I make but little reference to that stock of +information; not at all regarding it as a necessary consequence of my +having had recourse to the storehouse for my own benefit, that I should +reproduce its easily accessible contents before the eyes of my readers.<br> +<br> +Neither will there be found, in these pages, any grave examination into +the government or misgovernment of any portion of the country. +No visitor of that beautiful land can fail to have a strong conviction +on the subject; but as I chose when residing there, a Foreigner, to +abstain from the discussion of any such questions with any order of +Italians, so I would rather not enter on the inquiry now. During +my twelve months’ occupation of a house at Genoa, I never found +that authorities constitutionally jealous were distrustful of me; and +I should be sorry to give them occasion to regret their free courtesy, +either to myself or any of my countrymen.<br> +<br> +There is, probably, not a famous Picture or Statue in all Italy, but +could be easily buried under a mountain of printed paper devoted to +dissertations on it. I do not, therefore, though an earnest admirer +of Painting and Sculpture, expatiate at any length on famous Pictures +and Statues.<br> +<br> +This Book is a series of faint reflections - mere shadows in the water +- of places to which the imaginations of most people are attracted in +a greater or less degree, on which mine had dwelt for years, and which +have some interest for all. The greater part of the descriptions +were written on the spot, and sent home, from time to time, in private +letters. I do not mention the circumstance as an excuse for any +defects they may present, for it would be none; but as a guarantee to +the Reader that they were at least penned in the fulness of the subject, +and with the liveliest impressions of novelty and freshness.<br> +<br> +If they have ever a fanciful and idle air, perhaps the reader will suppose +them written in the shade of a Sunny Day, in the midst of the objects +of which they treat, and will like them none the worse for having such +influences of the country upon them.<br> +<br> +I hope I am not likely to be misunderstood by Professors of the Roman +Catholic faith, on account of anything contained in these pages. +I have done my best, in one of my former productions, to do justice +to them; and I trust, in this, they will do justice to me. When +I mention any exhibition that impressed me as absurd or disagreeable, +I do not seek to connect it, or recognise it as necessarily connected +with, any essentials of their creed. When I treat of the ceremonies +of the Holy Week, I merely treat of their effect, and do not challenge +the good and learned Dr. Wiseman’s interpretation of their meaning. +When I hint a dislike of nunneries for young girls who abjure the world +before they have ever proved or known it; or doubt the <i>ex officio</i> +sanctity of all Priests and Friars; I do no more than many conscientious +Catholics both abroad and at home.<br> +<br> +I have likened these Pictures to shadows in the water, and would fain +hope that I have, nowhere, stirred the water so roughly, as to mar the +shadows. I could never desire to be on better terms with all my +friends than now, when distant mountains rise, once more, in my path. +For I need not hesitate to avow, that, bent on correcting a brief mistake +I made, not long ago, in disturbing the old relations between myself +and my readers, and departing for a moment from my old pursuits, I am +about to resume them, joyfully, in Switzerland; where during another +year of absence, I can at once work out the themes I have now in my +mind, without interruption: and while I keep my English audience within +speaking distance, extend my knowledge of a noble country, inexpressibly +attractive to me. <a name="citation1"></a><a href="#footnote1">{1}</a><br> +<br> +This book is made as accessible as possible, because it would be a great +pleasure to me if I could hope, through its means, to compare impressions +with some among the multitudes who will hereafter visit the scenes described +with interest and delight.<br> +<br> +And I have only now, in passport wise, to sketch my reader’s portrait, +which I hope may be thus supposititiously traced for either sex:<br> +<br> +<font face="Courier New,Courier,Mono">Complexion Fair.<br> +Eyes Very cheerful.<br> +Nose Not supercilious.<br> +Mouth Smiling.<br> +Visage Beaming.<br> +General Expression Extremely agreeable.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +</font>CHAPTER I - GOING THROUGH FRANCE<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +On a fine Sunday morning in the Midsummer time and weather of eighteen +hundred and forty-four, it was, my good friend, when - don’t be +alarmed; not when two travellers might have been observed slowly making +their way over that picturesque and broken ground by which the first +chapter of a Middle Aged novel is usually attained - but when an English +travelling-carriage of considerable proportions, fresh from the shady +halls of the Pantechnicon near Belgrave Square, London, was observed +(by a very small French soldier; for I saw him look at it) to issue +from the gate of the Hôtel Meurice in the Rue Rivoli at Paris.<br> +<br> +I am no more bound to explain why the English family travelling by this +carriage, inside and out, should be starting for Italy on a Sunday morning, +of all good days in the week, than I am to assign a reason for all the +little men in France being soldiers, and all the big men postilions; +which is the invariable rule. But, they had some sort of reason +for what they did, I have no doubt; and their reason for being there +at all, was, as you know, that they were going to live in fair Genoa +for a year; and that the head of the family purposed, in that space +of time, to stroll about, wherever his restless humour carried him.<br> +<br> +And it would have been small comfort to me to have explained to the +population of Paris generally, that I was that Head and Chief; and not +the radiant embodiment of good humour who sat beside me in the person +of a French Courier - best of servants and most beaming of men! +Truth to say, he looked a great deal more patriarchal than I, who, in +the shadow of his portly presence, dwindled down to no account at all.<br> +<br> +There was, of course, very little in the aspect of Paris - as we rattled +near the dismal Morgue and over the Pont Neuf - to reproach us for our +Sunday travelling. The wine-shops (every second house) were driving +a roaring trade; awnings were spreading, and chairs and tables arranging, +outside the cafés, preparatory to the eating of ices, and drinking +of cool liquids, later in the day; shoe-blacks were busy on the bridges; +shops were open; carts and waggons clattered to and fro; the narrow, +up-hill, funnel-like streets across the River, were so many dense perspectives +of crowd and bustle, parti-coloured nightcaps, tobacco-pipes, blouses, +large boots, and shaggy heads of hair; nothing at that hour denoted +a day of rest, unless it were the appearance, here and there, of a family +pleasure-party, crammed into a bulky old lumbering cab; or of some contemplative +holiday-maker in the freest and easiest dishabille, leaning out of a +low garret window, watching the drying of his newly polished shoes on +the little parapet outside (if a gentleman), or the airing of her stockings +in the sun (if a lady), with calm anticipation.<br> +<br> +Once clear of the never-to-be-forgotten-or-forgiven pavement which surrounds +Paris, the first three days of travelling towards Marseilles are quiet +and monotonous enough. To Sens. To Avallon. To Chalons. +A sketch of one day’s proceedings is a sketch of all three; and +here it is.<br> +<br> +We have four horses, and one postilion, who has a very long whip, and +drives his team, something like the Courier of Saint Petersburgh in +the circle at Astley’s or Franconi’s: only he sits his own +horse instead of standing on him. The immense jack-boots worn +by these postilions, are sometimes a century or two old; and are so +ludicrously disproportionate to the wearer’s foot, that the spur, +which is put where his own heel comes, is generally halfway up the leg +of the boots. The man often comes out of the stable-yard, with +his whip in his hand and his shoes on, and brings out, in both hands, +one boot at a time, which he plants on the ground by the side of his +horse, with great gravity, until everything is ready. When it +is - and oh Heaven! the noise they make about it! - he gets into the +boots, shoes and all, or is hoisted into them by a couple of friends; +adjusts the rope harness, embossed by the labours of innumerable pigeons +in the stables; makes all the horses kick and plunge; cracks his whip +like a madman; shouts ‘En route - Hi!’ and away we go. +He is sure to have a contest with his horse before we have gone very +far; and then he calls him a Thief, and a Brigand, and a Pig, and what +not; and beats him about the head as if he were made of wood.<br> +<br> +There is little more than one variety in the appearance of the country, +for the first two days. From a dreary plain, to an interminable +avenue, and from an interminable avenue to a dreary plain again. +Plenty of vines there are in the open fields, but of a short low kind, +and not trained in festoons, but about straight sticks. Beggars +innumerable there are, everywhere; but an extraordinarily scanty population, +and fewer children than I ever encountered. I don’t believe +we saw a hundred children between Paris and Chalons. Queer old +towns, draw-bridged and walled: with odd little towers at the angles, +like grotesque faces, as if the wall had put a mask on, and were staring +down into the moat; other strange little towers, in gardens and fields, +and down lanes, and in farm-yards: all alone, and always round, with +a peaked roof, and never used for any purpose at all; ruinous buildings +of all sorts; sometimes an hôtel de ville, sometimes a guard-house, +sometimes a dwelling-house, sometimes a château with a rank garden, +prolific in dandelion, and watched over by extinguisher-topped turrets, +and blink-eyed little casements; are the standard objects, repeated +over and over again. Sometimes we pass a village inn, with a crumbling +wall belonging to it, and a perfect town of out-houses; and painted +over the gateway, ‘Stabling for Sixty Horses;’ as indeed +there might be stabling for sixty score, were there any horses to be +stabled there, or anybody resting there, or anything stirring about +the place but a dangling bush, indicative of the wine inside: which +flutters idly in the wind, in lazy keeping with everything else, and +certainly is never in a green old age, though always so old as to be +dropping to pieces. And all day long, strange little narrow waggons, +in strings of six or eight, bringing cheese from Switzerland, and frequently +in charge, the whole line, of one man, or even boy - and he very often +asleep in the foremost cart - come jingling past: the horses drowsily +ringing the bells upon their harness, and looking as if they thought +(no doubt they do) their great blue woolly furniture, of immense weight +and thickness, with a pair of grotesque horns growing out of the collar, +very much too warm for the Midsummer weather.<br> +<br> +Then, there is the Diligence, twice or thrice a-day; with the dusty +outsides in blue frocks, like butchers; and the insides in white nightcaps; +and its cabriolet head on the roof, nodding and shaking, like an idiot’s +head; and its Young-France passengers staring out of window, with beards +down to their waists, and blue spectacles awfully shading their warlike +eyes, and very big sticks clenched in their National grasp. Also +the Malle Poste, with only a couple of passengers, tearing along at +a real good dare-devil pace, and out of sight in no time. Steady +old Curés come jolting past, now and then, in such ramshackle, +rusty, musty, clattering coaches as no Englishman would believe in; +and bony women dawdle about in solitary places, holding cows by ropes +while they feed, or digging and hoeing or doing field-work of a more +laborious kind, or representing real shepherdesses with their flocks +- to obtain an adequate idea of which pursuit and its followers, in +any country, it is only necessary to take any pastoral poem, or picture, +and imagine to yourself whatever is most exquisitely and widely unlike +the descriptions therein contained.<br> +<br> +You have been travelling along, stupidly enough, as you generally do +in the last stage of the day; and the ninety-six bells upon the horses +- twenty-four apiece - have been ringing sleepily in your ears for half +an hour or so; and it has become a very jog-trot, monotonous, tiresome +sort of business; and you have been thinking deeply about the dinner +you will have at the next stage; when, down at the end of the long avenue +of trees through which you are travelling, the first indication of a +town appears, in the shape of some straggling cottages: and the carriage +begins to rattle and roll over a horribly uneven pavement. As +if the equipage were a great firework, and the mere sight of a smoking +cottage chimney had lighted it, instantly it begins to crack and splutter, +as if the very devil were in it. Crack, crack, crack, crack. +Crack-crack-crack. Crick-crack. Crick-crack. Helo! +Hola! Vite! Voleur! Brigand! Hi hi hi! +En r-r-r-r-r-route! Whip, wheels, driver, stones, beggars, children, +crack, crack, crack; helo! hola! charité pour l’amour de +Dieu! crick-crack-crick-crack; crick, crick, crick; bump, jolt, crack, +bump, crick-crack; round the corner, up the narrow street, down the +paved hill on the other side; in the gutter; bump, bump; jolt, jog, +crick, crick, crick; crack, crack, crack; into the shop-windows on the +left-hand side of the street, preliminary to a sweeping turn into the +wooden archway on the right; rumble, rumble, rumble; clatter, clatter, +clatter; crick, crick, crick; and here we are in the yard of the Hôtel +de l’Ecu d’Or; used up, gone out, smoking, spent, exhausted; +but sometimes making a false start unexpectedly, with nothing coming +of it - like a firework to the last!<br> +<br> +The landlady of the Hôtel de l’Ecu d’Or is here; and +the landlord of the Hôtel de l’Ecu d’Or is here; and +the femme de chambre of the Hôtel de l’Ecu d’Or is +here; and a gentleman in a glazed cap, with a red beard like a bosom +friend, who is staying at the Hôtel de l’Ecu d’Or, +is here; and Monsieur le Curé is walking up and down in a corner +of the yard by himself, with a shovel hat upon his head, and a black +gown on his back, and a book in one hand, and an umbrella in the other; +and everybody, except Monsieur le Curé, is open-mouthed and open-eyed, +for the opening of the carriage-door. The landlord of the Hôtel +de l’Ecu d’Or, dotes to that extent upon the Courier, that +he can hardly wait for his coming down from the box, but embraces his +very legs and boot-heels as he descends. ‘My Courier! +My brave Courier! My friend! My brother!’ The +landlady loves him, the femme de chambre blesses him, the garçon +worships him. The Courier asks if his letter has been received? +It has, it has. Are the rooms prepared? They are, they are. +The best rooms for my noble Courier. The rooms of state for my +gallant Courier; the whole house is at the service of my best of friends! +He keeps his hand upon the carriage-door, and asks some other question +to enhance the expectation. He carries a green leathern purse +outside his coat, suspended by a belt. The idlers look at it; +one touches it. It is full of five-franc pieces. Murmurs +of admiration are heard among the boys. The landlord falls upon +the Courier’s neck, and folds him to his breast. He is so +much fatter than he was, he says! He looks so rosy and so well!<br> +<br> +The door is opened. Breathless expectation. The lady of +the family gets out. Ah sweet lady! Beautiful lady! +The sister of the lady of the family gets out. Great Heaven, Ma’amselle +is charming! First little boy gets out. Ah, what a beautiful +little boy! First little girl gets out. Oh, but this is +an enchanting child! Second little girl gets out. The landlady, +yielding to the finest impulse of our common nature, catches her up +in her arms! Second little boy gets out. Oh, the sweet boy! +Oh, the tender little family! The baby is handed out. Angelic +baby! The baby has topped everything. All the rapture is +expended on the baby! Then the two nurses tumble out; and the +enthusiasm swelling into madness, the whole family are swept up-stairs +as on a cloud; while the idlers press about the carriage, and look into +it, and walk round it, and touch it. For it is something to touch +a carriage that has held so many people. It is a legacy to leave +one’s children.<br> +<br> +The rooms are on the first floor, except the nursery for the night, +which is a great rambling chamber, with four or five beds in it: through +a dark passage, up two steps, down four, past a pump, across a balcony, +and next door to the stable. The other sleeping apartments are +large and lofty; each with two small bedsteads, tastefully hung, like +the windows, with red and white drapery. The sitting-room is famous. +Dinner is already laid in it for three; and the napkins are folded in +cocked-hat fashion. The floors are of red tile. There are +no carpets, and not much furniture to speak of; but there is abundance +of looking-glass, and there are large vases under glass shades, filled +with artificial flowers; and there are plenty of clocks. The whole +party are in motion. The brave Courier, in particular, is everywhere: +looking after the beds, having wine poured down his throat by his dear +brother the landlord, and picking up green cucumbers - always cucumbers; +Heaven knows where he gets them - with which he walks about, one in +each hand, like truncheons.<br> +<br> +Dinner is announced. There is very thin soup; there are very large +loaves - one apiece; a fish; four dishes afterwards; some poultry afterwards; +a dessert afterwards; and no lack of wine. There is not much in +the dishes; but they are very good, and always ready instantly. +When it is nearly dark, the brave Courier, having eaten the two cucumbers, +sliced up in the contents of a pretty large decanter of oil, and another +of vinegar, emerges from his retreat below, and proposes a visit to +the Cathedral, whose massive tower frowns down upon the court-yard of +the inn. Off we go; and very solemn and grand it is, in the dim +light: so dim at last, that the polite, old, lanthorn-jawed Sacristan +has a feeble little bit of candle in his hand, to grope among the tombs +with - and looks among the grim columns, very like a lost ghost who +is searching for his own.<br> +<br> +Underneath the balcony, when we return, the inferior servants of the +inn are supping in the open air, at a great table; the dish, a stew +of meat and vegetables, smoking hot, and served in the iron cauldron +it was boiled in. They have a pitcher of thin wine, and are very +merry; merrier than the gentleman with the red beard, who is playing +billiards in the light room on the left of the yard, where shadows, +with cues in their hands, and cigars in their mouths, cross and recross +the window, constantly. Still the thin Curé walks up and +down alone, with his book and umbrella. And there he walks, and +there the billiard-balls rattle, long after we are fast asleep.<br> +<br> +We are astir at six next morning. It is a delightful day, shaming +yesterday’s mud upon the carriage, if anything could shame a carriage, +in a land where carriages are never cleaned. Everybody is brisk; +and as we finish breakfast, the horses come jingling into the yard from +the Post-house. Everything taken out of the carriage is put back +again. The brave Courier announces that all is ready, after walking +into every room, and looking all round it, to be certain that nothing +is left behind. Everybody gets in. Everybody connected with +the Hôtel de l’Ecu d’Or is again enchanted. +The brave Courier runs into the house for a parcel containing cold fowl, +sliced ham, bread, and biscuits, for lunch; hands it into the coach; +and runs back again.<br> +<br> +What has he got in his hand now? More cucumbers? No. +A long strip of paper. It’s the bill.<br> +<br> +The brave Courier has two belts on, this morning: one supporting the +purse: another, a mighty good sort of leathern bottle, filled to the +throat with the best light Bordeaux wine in the house. He never +pays the bill till this bottle is full. Then he disputes it.<br> +<br> +He disputes it now, violently. He is still the landlord’s +brother, but by another father or mother. He is not so nearly +related to him as he was last night. The landlord scratches his +head. The brave Courier points to certain figures in the bill, +and intimates that if they remain there, the Hôtel de l’Ecu +d’Or is thenceforth and for ever an hôtel de l’Ecu +de cuivre. The landlord goes into a little counting-house. +The brave Courier follows, forces the bill and a pen into his hand, +and talks more rapidly than ever. The landlord takes the pen. +The Courier smiles. The landlord makes an alteration. The +Courier cuts a joke. The landlord is affectionate, but not weakly +so. He bears it like a man. He shakes hands with his brave +brother, but he don’t hug him. Still, he loves his brother; +for he knows that he will be returning that way, one of these fine days, +with another family, and he foresees that his heart will yearn towards +him again. The brave Courier traverses all round the carriage +once, looks at the drag, inspects the wheels, jumps up, gives the word, +and away we go!<br> +<br> +It is market morning. The market is held in the little square +outside in front of the cathedral. It is crowded with men and +women, in blue, in red, in green, in white; with canvassed stalls; and +fluttering merchandise. The country people are grouped about, +with their clean baskets before them. Here, the lace-sellers; +there, the butter and egg-sellers; there, the fruit-sellers; there, +the shoe-makers. The whole place looks as if it were the stage +of some great theatre, and the curtain had just run up, for a picturesque +ballet. And there is the cathedral to boot: scene-like: all grim, +and swarthy, and mouldering, and cold: just splashing the pavement in +one place with faint purple drops, as the morning sun, entering by a +little window on the eastern side, struggles through some stained glass +panes, on the western.<br> +<br> +In five minutes we have passed the iron cross, with a little ragged +kneeling-place of turf before it, in the outskirts of the town; and +are again upon the road.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER II - LYONS, THE RHONE, AND THE GOBLIN OF AVIGNON<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Chalons is a fair resting-place, in right of its good inn on the bank +of the river, and the little steamboats, gay with green and red paint, +that come and go upon it: which make up a pleasant and refreshing scene, +after the dusty roads. But, unless you would like to dwell on +an enormous plain, with jagged rows of irregular poplars on it, that +look in the distance like so many combs with broken teeth: and unless +you would like to pass your life without the possibility of going up-hill, +or going up anything but stairs: you would hardly approve of Chalons +as a place of residence.<br> +<br> +You would probably like it better, however, than Lyons: which you may +reach, if you will, in one of the before-mentioned steamboats, in eight +hours.<br> +<br> +What a city Lyons is! Talk about people feeling, at certain unlucky +times, as if they had tumbled from the clouds! Here is a whole +town that is tumbled, anyhow, out of the sky; having been first caught +up, like other stones that tumble down from that region, out of fens +and barren places, dismal to behold! The two great streets through +which the two great rivers dash, and all the little streets whose name +is Legion, were scorching, blistering, and sweltering. The houses, +high and vast, dirty to excess, rotten as old cheeses, and as thickly +peopled. All up the hills that hem the city in, these houses swarm; +and the mites inside were lolling out of the windows, and drying their +ragged clothes on poles, and crawling in and out at the doors, and coming +out to pant and gasp upon the pavement, and creeping in and out among +huge piles and bales of fusty, musty, stifling goods; and living, or +rather not dying till their time should come, in an exhausted receiver. +Every manufacturing town, melted into one, would hardly convey an impression +of Lyons as it presented itself to me: for all the undrained, unscavengered +qualities of a foreign town, seemed grafted, there, upon the native +miseries of a manufacturing one; and it bears such fruit as I would +go some miles out of my way to avoid encountering again.<br> +<br> +In the cool of the evening: or rather in the faded heat of the day: +we went to see the Cathedral, where divers old women, and a few dogs, +were engaged in contemplation. There was no difference, in point +of cleanliness, between its stone pavement and that of the streets; +and there was a wax saint, in a little box like a berth aboard ship, +with a glass front to it, whom Madame Tussaud would have nothing to +say to, on any terms, and which even Westminster Abbey might be ashamed +of. If you would know all about the architecture of this church, +or any other, its dates, dimensions, endowments, and history, is it +not written in Mr. Murray’s Guide-Book, and may you not read it +there, with thanks to him, as I did!<br> +<br> +For this reason, I should abstain from mentioning the curious clock +in Lyons Cathedral, if it were not for a small mistake I made, in connection +with that piece of mechanism. The keeper of the church was very +anxious it should be shown; partly for the honour of the establishment +and the town; and partly, perhaps, because of his deriving a percentage +from the additional consideration. However that may be, it was +set in motion, and thereupon a host of little doors flew open, and innumerable +little figures staggered out of them, and jerked themselves back again, +with that special unsteadiness of purpose, and hitching in the gait, +which usually attaches to figures that are moved by clock-work. +Meanwhile, the Sacristan stood explaining these wonders, and pointing +them out, severally, with a wand. There was a centre puppet of +the Virgin Mary; and close to her, a small pigeon-hole, out of which +another and a very ill-looking puppet made one of the most sudden plunges +I ever saw accomplished: instantly flopping back again at sight of her, +and banging his little door violently after him. Taking this to +be emblematic of the victory over Sin and Death, and not at all unwilling +to show that I perfectly understood the subject, in anticipation of +the showman, I rashly said, ‘Aha! The Evil Spirit. +To be sure. He is very soon disposed of.’ ‘Pardon, +Monsieur,’ said the Sacristan, with a polite motion of his hand +towards the little door, as if introducing somebody - ‘The Angel +Gabriel!’<br> +<br> +Soon after daybreak next morning, we were steaming down the Arrowy Rhone, +at the rate of twenty miles an hour, in a very dirty vessel full of +merchandise, and with only three or four other passengers for our companions: +among whom, the most remarkable was a silly, old, meek-faced, garlic-eating, +immeasurably polite Chevalier, with a dirty scrap of red ribbon hanging +at his button-hole, as if he had tied it there to remind himself of +something; as Tom Noddy, in the farce, ties knots in his pocket-handkerchief.<br> +<br> +For the last two days, we had seen great sullen hills, the first indications +of the Alps, lowering in the distance. Now, we were rushing on +beside them: sometimes close beside them: sometimes with an intervening +slope, covered with vineyards. Villages and small towns hanging +in mid-air, with great woods of olives seen through the light open towers +of their churches, and clouds moving slowly on, upon the steep acclivity +behind them; ruined castles perched on every eminence; and scattered +houses in the clefts and gullies of the hills; made it very beautiful. +The great height of these, too, making the buildings look so tiny, that +they had all the charm of elegant models; their excessive whiteness, +as contrasted with the brown rocks, or the sombre, deep, dull, heavy +green of the olive-tree; and the puny size, and little slow walk of +the Lilliputian men and women on the bank; made a charming picture. +There were ferries out of number, too; bridges; the famous Pont d’Esprit, +with I don’t know how many arches; towns where memorable wines +are made; Vallence, where Napoleon studied; and the noble river, bringing +at every winding turn, new beauties into view.<br> +<br> +There lay before us, that same afternoon, the broken bridge of Avignon, +and all the city baking in the sun; yet with an under-done-pie-crust, +battlemented wall, that never will be brown, though it bake for centuries.<br> +<br> +The grapes were hanging in clusters in the streets, and the brilliant +Oleander was in full bloom everywhere. The streets are old and +very narrow, but tolerably clean, and shaded by awnings stretched from +house to house. Bright stuffs and handkerchiefs, curiosities, +ancient frames of carved wood, old chairs, ghostly tables, saints, virgins, +angels, and staring daubs of portraits, being exposed for sale beneath, +it was very quaint and lively. All this was much set off, too, +by the glimpses one caught, through a rusty gate standing ajar, of quiet +sleepy court-yards, having stately old houses within, as silent as tombs. +It was all very like one of the descriptions in the Arabian Nights. +The three one-eyed Calenders might have knocked at any one of those +doors till the street rang again, and the porter who persisted in asking +questions - the man who had the delicious purchases put into his basket +in the morning - might have opened it quite naturally.<br> +<br> +After breakfast next morning, we sallied forth to see the lions. +Such a delicious breeze was blowing in, from the north, as made the +walk delightful: though the pavement-stones, and stones of the walls +and houses, were far too hot to have a hand laid on them comfortably.<br> +<br> +We went, first of all, up a rocky height, to the cathedral: where Mass +was performing to an auditory very like that of Lyons, namely, several +old women, a baby, and a very self-possessed dog, who had marked out +for himself a little course or platform for exercise, beginning at the +altar-rails and ending at the door, up and down which constitutional +walk he trotted, during the service, as methodically and calmly, as +any old gentleman out of doors.<br> +<br> +It is a bare old church, and the paintings in the roof are sadly defaced +by time and damp weather; but the sun was shining in, splendidly, through +the red curtains of the windows, and glittering on the altar furniture; +and it looked as bright and cheerful as need be.<br> +<br> +Going apart, in this church, to see some painting which was being executed +in fresco by a French artist and his pupil, I was led to observe more +closely than I might otherwise have done, a great number of votive offerings +with which the walls of the different chapels were profusely hung. +I will not say decorated, for they were very roughly and comically got +up; most likely by poor sign-painters, who eke out their living in that +way. They were all little pictures: each representing some sickness +or calamity from which the person placing it there, had escaped, through +the interposition of his or her patron saint, or of the Madonna; and +I may refer to them as good specimens of the class generally. +They are abundant in Italy.<br> +<br> +In a grotesque squareness of outline, and impossibility of perspective, +they are not unlike the woodcuts in old books; but they were oil-paintings, +and the artist, like the painter of the Primrose family, had not been +sparing of his colours. In one, a lady was having a toe amputated +- an operation which a saintly personage had sailed into the room, upon +a couch, to superintend. In another, a lady was lying in bed, +tucked up very tight and prim, and staring with much composure at a +tripod, with a slop-basin on it; the usual form of washing-stand, and +the only piece of furniture, besides the bedstead, in her chamber. +One would never have supposed her to be labouring under any complaint, +beyond the inconvenience of being miraculously wide awake, if the painter +had not hit upon the idea of putting all her family on their knees in +one corner, with their legs sticking out behind them on the floor, like +boot-trees. Above whom, the Virgin, on a kind of blue divan, promised +to restore the patient. In another case, a lady was in the very +act of being run over, immediately outside the city walls, by a sort +of piano-forte van. But the Madonna was there again. Whether +the supernatural appearance had startled the horse (a bay griffin), +or whether it was invisible to him, I don’t know; but he was galloping +away, ding dong, without the smallest reverence or compunction. +On every picture ‘Ex voto’ was painted in yellow capitals +in the sky.<br> +<br> +Though votive offerings were not unknown in Pagan Temples, and are evidently +among the many compromises made between the false religion and the true, +when the true was in its infancy, I could wish that all the other compromises +were as harmless. Gratitude and Devotion are Christian qualities; +and a grateful, humble, Christian spirit may dictate the observance.<br> +<br> +Hard by the cathedral stands the ancient Palace of the Popes, of which +one portion is now a common jail, and another a noisy barrack: while +gloomy suites of state apartments, shut up and deserted, mock their +own old state and glory, like the embalmed bodies of kings. But +we neither went there, to see state rooms, nor soldiers’ quarters, +nor a common jail, though we dropped some money into a prisoners’ +box outside, whilst the prisoners, themselves, looked through the iron +bars, high up, and watched us eagerly. We went to see the ruins +of the dreadful rooms in which the Inquisition used to sit.<br> +<br> +A little, old, swarthy woman, with a pair of flashing black eyes, - +proof that the world hadn’t conjured down the devil within her, +though it had had between sixty and seventy years to do it in, - came +out of the Barrack Cabaret, of which she was the keeper, with some large +keys in her hands, and marshalled us the way that we should go. +How she told us, on the way, that she was a Government Officer (<i>concierge +du palais a</i> <i>apostolique</i>), and had been, for I don’t +know how many years; and how she had shown these dungeons to princes; +and how she was the best of dungeon demonstrators; and how she had resided +in the palace from an infant, - had been born there, if I recollect +right, - I needn’t relate. But such a fierce, little, rapid, +sparkling, energetic she-devil I never beheld. She was alight +and flaming, all the time. Her action was violent in the extreme. +She never spoke, without stopping expressly for the purpose. She +stamped her feet, clutched us by the arms, flung herself into attitudes, +hammered against walls with her keys, for mere emphasis: now whispered +as if the Inquisition were there still: now shrieked as if she were +on the rack herself; and had a mysterious, hag-like way with her forefinger, +when approaching the remains of some new horror - looking back and walking +stealthily, and making horrible grimaces - that might alone have qualified +her to walk up and down a sick man’s counterpane, to the exclusion +of all other figures, through a whole fever.<br> +<br> +Passing through the court-yard, among groups of idle soldiers, we turned +off by a gate, which this She-Goblin unlocked for our admission, and +locked again behind us: and entered a narrow court, rendered narrower +by fallen stones and heaps of rubbish; part of it choking up the mouth +of a ruined subterranean passage, that once communicated (or is said +to have done so) with another castle on the opposite bank of the river. +Close to this court-yard is a dungeon - we stood within it, in another +minute - in the dismal tower <i>des oubliettes</i>, where Rienzi was +imprisoned, fastened by an iron chain to the very wall that stands there +now, but shut out from the sky which now looks down into it. A +few steps brought us to the Cachots, in which the prisoners of the Inquisition +were confined for forty-eight hours after their capture, without food +or drink, that their constancy might be shaken, even before they were +confronted with their gloomy judges. The day has not got in there +yet. They are still small cells, shut in by four unyielding, close, +hard walls; still profoundly dark; still massively doored and fastened, +as of old.<br> +<br> +Goblin, looking back as I have described, went softly on, into a vaulted +chamber, now used as a store-room: once the chapel of the Holy Office. +The place where the tribunal sat, was plain. The platform might +have been removed but yesterday. Conceive the parable of the Good +Samaritan having been painted on the wall of one of these Inquisition +chambers! But it was, and may be traced there yet.<br> +<br> +High up in the jealous wall, are niches where the faltering replies +of the accused were heard and noted down. Many of them had been +brought out of the very cell we had just looked into, so awfully; along +the same stone passage. We had trodden in their very footsteps.<br> +<br> +I am gazing round me, with the horror that the place inspires, when +Goblin clutches me by the wrist, and lays, not her skinny finger, but +the handle of a key, upon her lip. She invites me, with a jerk, +to follow her. I do so. She leads me out into a room adjoining +- a rugged room, with a funnel-shaped, contracting roof, open at the +top, to the bright day. I ask her what it is. She folds +her arms, leers hideously, and stares. I ask again. She +glances round, to see that all the little company are there; sits down +upon a mound of stones; throws up her arms, and yells out, like a fiend, +‘La Salle de la Question!’<br> +<br> +The Chamber of Torture! And the roof was made of that shape to +stifle the victim’s cries! Oh Goblin, Goblin, let us think +of this awhile, in silence. Peace, Goblin! Sit with your +short arms crossed on your short legs, upon that heap of stones, for +only five minutes, and then flame out again.<br> +<br> +Minutes! Seconds are not marked upon the Palace clock, when, with +her eyes flashing fire, Goblin is up, in the middle of the chamber, +describing, with her sunburnt arms, a wheel of heavy blows. Thus +it ran round! cries Goblin. Mash, mash, mash! An endless +routine of heavy hammers. Mash, mash, mash! upon the sufferer’s +limbs. See the stone trough! says Goblin. For the water +torture! Gurgle, swill, bloat, burst, for the Redeemer’s +honour! Suck the bloody rag, deep down into your unbelieving body, +Heretic, at every breath you draw! And when the executioner plucks +it out, reeking with the smaller mysteries of God’s own Image, +know us for His chosen servants, true believers in the Sermon on the +Mount, elect disciples of Him who never did a miracle but to heal: who +never struck a man with palsy, blindness, deafness, dumbness, madness, +any one affliction of mankind; and never stretched His blessed hand +out, but to give relief and ease!<br> +<br> +See! cries Goblin. There the furnace was. There they made +the irons red-hot. Those holes supported the sharp stake, on which +the tortured persons hung poised: dangling with their whole weight from +the roof. ‘But;’ and Goblin whispers this; ‘Monsieur +has heard of this tower? Yes? Let Monsieur look down, then!’<br> +<br> +A cold air, laden with an earthy smell, falls upon the face of Monsieur; +for she has opened, while speaking, a trap-door in the wall. Monsieur +looks in. Downward to the bottom, upward to the top, of a steep, +dark, lofty tower: very dismal, very dark, very cold. The Executioner +of the Inquisition, says Goblin, edging in her head to look down also, +flung those who were past all further torturing, down here. ‘But +look! does Monsieur see the black stains on the wall?’ A +glance, over his shoulder, at Goblin’s keen eye, shows Monsieur +- and would without the aid of the directing key - where they are. +‘What are they?’ ‘Blood!’<br> +<br> +In October, 1791, when the Revolution was at its height here, sixty +persons: men and women (‘and priests,’ says Goblin, ‘priests’): +were murdered, and hurled, the dying and the dead, into this dreadful +pit, where a quantity of quick-lime was tumbled down upon their bodies. +Those ghastly tokens of the massacre were soon no more; but while one +stone of the strong building in which the deed was done, remains upon +another, there they will lie in the memories of men, as plain to see +as the splashing of their blood upon the wall is now.<br> +<br> +Was it a portion of the great scheme of Retribution, that the cruel +deed should be committed in this place! That a part of the atrocities +and monstrous institutions, which had been, for scores of years, at +work, to change men’s nature, should in its last service, tempt +them with the ready means of gratifying their furious and beastly rage! +Should enable them to show themselves, in the height of their frenzy, +no worse than a great, solemn, legal establishment, in the height of +its power! No worse! Much better. They used the Tower +of the Forgotten, in the name of Liberty - their liberty; an earth-born +creature, nursed in the black mud of the Bastile moats and dungeons, +and necessarily betraying many evidences of its unwholesome bringing-up +- but the Inquisition used it in the name of Heaven.<br> +<br> +Goblin’s finger is lifted; and she steals out again, into the +Chapel of the Holy Office. She stops at a certain part of the +flooring. Her great effect is at hand. She waits for the +rest. She darts at the brave Courier, who is explaining something; +hits him a sounding rap on the hat with the largest key; and bids him +be silent. She assembles us all, round a little trap-door in the +floor, as round a grave.<br> +<br> +‘Voilà!’ she darts down at the ring, and flings the +door open with a crash, in her goblin energy, though it is no light +weight. ‘Voilà les oubliettes! Voilà +les oubliettes! Subterranean! Frightful! Black! Terrible! +Deadly! Les oubliettes de l’Inquisition!’<br> +<br> +My blood ran cold, as I looked from Goblin, down into the vaults, where +these forgotten creatures, with recollections of the world outside: +of wives, friends, children, brothers: starved to death, and made the +stones ring with their unavailing groans. But, the thrill I felt +on seeing the accursed wall below, decayed and broken through, and the +sun shining in through its gaping wounds, was like a sense of victory +and triumph. I felt exalted with the proud delight of living in +these degenerate times, to see it. As if I were the hero of some +high achievement! The light in the doleful vaults was typical +of the light that has streamed in, on all persecution in God’s +name, but which is not yet at its noon! It cannot look more lovely +to a blind man newly restored to sight, than to a traveller who sees +it, calmly and majestically, treading down the darkness of that Infernal +Well.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER III - AVIGNON TO GENOA<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Goblin, having shown <i>les oubliettes</i>, felt that her great <i>coup</i> +was struck. She let the door fall with a crash, and stood upon +it with her arms a-kimbo, sniffing prodigiously.<br> +<br> +When we left the place, I accompanied her into her house, under the +outer gateway of the fortress, to buy a little history of the building. +Her cabaret, a dark, low room, lighted by small windows, sunk in the +thick wall - in the softened light, and with its forge-like chimney; +its little counter by the door, with bottles, jars, and glasses on it; +its household implements and scraps of dress against the wall; and a +sober-looking woman (she must have a congenial life of it, with Goblin,) +knitting at the door - looked exactly like a picture by OSTADE.<br> +<br> +I walked round the building on the outside, in a sort of dream, and +yet with the delightful sense of having awakened from it, of which the +light, down in the vaults, had given me the assurance. The immense +thickness and giddy height of the walls, the enormous strength of the +massive towers, the great extent of the building, its gigantic proportions, +frowning aspect, and barbarous irregularity, awaken awe and wonder. +The recollection of its opposite old uses: an impregnable fortress, +a luxurious palace, a horrible prison, a place of torture, the court +of the Inquisition: at one and the same time, a house of feasting, fighting, +religion, and blood: gives to every stone in its huge form a fearful +interest, and imparts new meaning to its incongruities. I could +think of little, however, then, or long afterwards, but the sun in the +dungeons. The palace coming down to be the lounging-place of noisy +soldiers, and being forced to echo their rough talk, and common oaths, +and to have their garments fluttering from its dirty windows, was some +reduction of its state, and something to rejoice at; but the day in +its cells, and the sky for the roof of its chambers of cruelty - that +was its desolation and defeat! If I had seen it in a blaze from +ditch to rampart, I should have felt that not that light, nor all the +light in all the fire that burns, could waste it, like the sunbeams +in its secret council-chamber, and its prisons.<br> +<br> +Before I quit this Palace of the Popes, let me translate from the little +history I mentioned just now, a short anecdote, quite appropriate to +itself, connected with its adventures.<br> +<br> +‘An ancient tradition relates, that in 1441, a nephew of Pierre +de Lude, the Pope’s legate, seriously insulted some distinguished +ladies of Avignon, whose relations, in revenge, seized the young man, +and horribly mutilated him. For several years the legate kept +<i>his</i> revenge within his own breast, but he was not the less resolved +upon its gratification at last. He even made, in the fulness of +time, advances towards a complete reconciliation; and when their apparent +sincerity had prevailed, he invited to a splendid banquet, in this palace, +certain families, whole families, whom he sought to exterminate. +The utmost gaiety animated the repast; but the measures of the legate +were well taken. When the dessert was on the board, a Swiss presented +himself, with the announcement that a strange ambassador solicited an +extraordinary audience. The legate, excusing himself, for the +moment, to his guests, retired, followed by his officers. Within +a few minutes afterwards, five hundred persons were reduced to ashes: +the whole of that wing of the building having been blown into the air +with a terrible explosion!’<br> +<br> +After seeing the churches (I will not trouble you with churches just +now), we left Avignon that afternoon. The heat being very great, +the roads outside the walls were strewn with people fast asleep in every +little slip of shade, and with lazy groups, half asleep and half awake, +who were waiting until the sun should be low enough to admit of their +playing bowls among the burnt-up trees, and on the dusty road. +The harvest here was already gathered in, and mules and horses were +treading out the corn in the fields. We came, at dusk, upon a +wild and hilly country, once famous for brigands; and travelled slowly +up a steep ascent. So we went on, until eleven at night, when +we halted at the town of Aix (within two stages of Marseilles) to sleep.<br> +<br> +The hotel, with all the blinds and shutters closed to keep the light +and heat out, was comfortable and airy next morning, and the town was +very clean; but so hot, and so intensely light, that when I walked out +at noon it was like coming suddenly from the darkened room into crisp +blue fire. The air was so very clear, that distant hills and rocky +points appeared within an hour’s walk; while the town immediately +at hand - with a kind of blue wind between me and it - seemed to be +white hot, and to be throwing off a fiery air from the surface.<br> +<br> +We left this town towards evening, and took the road to Marseilles. +A dusty road it was; the houses shut up close; and the vines powdered +white. At nearly all the cottage doors, women were peeling and +slicing onions into earthen bowls for supper. So they had been +doing last night all the way from Avignon. We passed one or two +shady dark châteaux, surrounded by trees, and embellished with +cool basins of water: which were the more refreshing to behold, from +the great scarcity of such residences on the road we had travelled. +As we approached Marseilles, the road began to be covered with holiday +people. Outside the public-houses were parties smoking, drinking, +playing draughts and cards, and (once) dancing. But dust, dust, +dust, everywhere. We went on, through a long, straggling, dirty +suburb, thronged with people; having on our left a dreary slope of land, +on which the country-houses of the Marseilles merchants, always staring +white, are jumbled and heaped without the slightest order: backs, fronts, +sides, and gables towards all points of the compass; until, at last, +we entered the town.<br> +<br> +I was there, twice or thrice afterwards, in fair weather and foul; and +I am afraid there is no doubt that it is a dirty and disagreeable place. +But the prospect, from the fortified heights, of the beautiful Mediterranean, +with its lovely rocks and islands, is most delightful. These heights +are a desirable retreat, for less picturesque reasons - as an escape +from a compound of vile smells perpetually arising from a great harbour +full of stagnant water, and befouled by the refuse of innumerable ships +with all sorts of cargoes: which, in hot weather, is dreadful in the +last degree.<br> +<br> +There were foreign sailors, of all nations, in the streets; with red +shirts, blue shirts, buff shirts, tawny shirts, and shirts of orange +colour; with red caps, blue caps, green caps, great beards, and no beards; +in Turkish turbans, glazed English hats, and Neapolitan head-dresses. +There were the townspeople sitting in clusters on the pavement, or airing +themselves on the tops of their houses, or walking up and down the closest +and least airy of Boulevards; and there were crowds of fierce-looking +people of the lower sort, blocking up the way, constantly. In +the very heart of all this stir and uproar, was the common madhouse; +a low, contracted, miserable building, looking straight upon the street, +without the smallest screen or court-yard; where chattering mad-men +and mad-women were peeping out, through rusty bars, at the staring faces +below, while the sun, darting fiercely aslant into their little cells, +seemed to dry up their brains, and worry them, as if they were baited +by a pack of dogs.<br> +<br> +We were pretty well accommodated at the Hôtel du Paradis, situated +in a narrow street of very high houses, with a hairdresser’s shop +opposite, exhibiting in one of its windows two full-length waxen ladies, +twirling round and round: which so enchanted the hairdresser himself, +that he and his family sat in arm-chairs, and in cool undresses, on +the pavement outside, enjoying the gratification of the passers-by, +with lazy dignity. The family had retired to rest when we went +to bed, at midnight; but the hairdresser (a corpulent man, in drab slippers) +was still sitting there, with his legs stretched out before him, and +evidently couldn’t bear to have the shutters put up.<br> +<br> +Next day we went down to the harbour, where the sailors of all nations +were discharging and taking in cargoes of all kinds: fruits, wines, +oils, silks, stuffs, velvets, and every manner of merchandise. +Taking one of a great number of lively little boats with gay-striped +awnings, we rowed away, under the sterns of great ships, under tow-ropes +and cables, against and among other boats, and very much too near the +sides of vessels that were faint with oranges, to the <i>Marie Antoinette</i>, +a handsome steamer bound for Genoa, lying near the mouth of the harbour. +By-and-by, the carriage, that unwieldy ‘trifle from the Pantechnicon,’ +on a flat barge, bumping against everything, and giving occasion for +a prodigious quantity of oaths and grimaces, came stupidly alongside; +and by five o’clock we were steaming out in the open sea. +The vessel was beautifully clean; the meals were served under an awning +on deck; the night was calm and clear; the quiet beauty of the sea and +sky unspeakable.<br> +<br> +We were off Nice, early next morning, and coasted along, within a few +miles of the Cornice road (of which more in its place) nearly all day. +We could see Genoa before three; and watching it as it gradually developed +its splendid amphitheatre, terrace rising above terrace, garden above +garden, palace above palace, height upon height, was ample occupation +for us, till we ran into the stately harbour. Having been duly +astonished, here, by the sight of a few Cappucini monks, who were watching +the fair-weighing of some wood upon the wharf, we drove off to Albaro, +two miles distant, where we had engaged a house.<br> +<br> +The way lay through the main streets, but not through the Strada Nuova, +or the Strada Balbi, which are the famous streets of palaces. +I never in my life was so dismayed! The wonderful novelty of everything, +the unusual smells, the unaccountable filth (though it is reckoned the +cleanest of Italian towns), the disorderly jumbling of dirty houses, +one upon the roof of another; the passages more squalid and more close +than any in St. Giles’s or old Paris; in and out of which, not +vagabonds, but well-dressed women, with white veils and great fans, +were passing and repassing; the perfect absence of resemblance in any +dwelling-house, or shop, or wall, or post, or pillar, to anything one +had ever seen before; and the disheartening dirt, discomfort, and decay; +perfectly confounded me. I fell into a dismal reverie. I +am conscious of a feverish and bewildered vision of saints and virgins’ +shrines at the street corners - of great numbers of friars, monks, and +soldiers - of vast red curtains, waving in the doorways of the churches +- of always going up hill, and yet seeing every other street and passage +going higher up - of fruit-stalls, with fresh lemons and oranges hanging +in garlands made of vine-leaves - of a guard-house, and a drawbridge +- and some gateways - and vendors of iced water, sitting with little +trays upon the margin of the kennel - and this is all the consciousness +I had, until I was set down in a rank, dull, weedy court-yard, attached +to a kind of pink jail; and was told I lived there.<br> +<br> +I little thought, that day, that I should ever come to have an attachment +for the very stones in the streets of Genoa, and to look back upon the +city with affection as connected with many hours of happiness and quiet! +But these are my first impressions honestly set down; and how they changed, +I will set down too. At present, let us breathe after this long-winded +journey.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER IV - GENOA AND ITS NEIGHBOURHOOD<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +The first impressions of such a place as ALBARO, the suburb of Genoa, +where I am now, as my American friends would say, ‘located,’ +can hardly fail, I should imagine, to be mournful and disappointing. +It requires a little time and use to overcome the feeling of depression +consequent, at first, on so much ruin and neglect. Novelty, pleasant +to most people, is particularly delightful, I think, to me. I +am not easily dispirited when I have the means of pursuing my own fancies +and occupations; and I believe I have some natural aptitude for accommodating +myself to circumstances. But, as yet, I stroll about here, in +all the holes and corners of the neighbourhood, in a perpetual state +of forlorn surprise; and returning to my villa: the Villa Bagnerello +(it sounds romantic, but Signor Bagnerello is a butcher hard by): have +sufficient occupation in pondering over my new experiences, and comparing +them, very much to my own amusement, with my expectations, until I wander +out again.<br> +<br> +The Villa Bagnerello: or the Pink Jail, a far more expressive name for +the mansion: is in one of the most splendid situations imaginable. +The noble bay of Genoa, with the deep blue Mediterranean, lies stretched +out near at hand; monstrous old desolate houses and palaces are dotted +all about; lofty hills, with their tops often hidden in the clouds, +and with strong forts perched high up on their craggy sides, are close +upon the left; and in front, stretching from the walls of the house, +down to a ruined chapel which stands upon the bold and picturesque rocks +on the sea-shore, are green vineyards, where you may wander all day +long in partial shade, through interminable vistas of grapes, trained +on a rough trellis-work across the narrow paths.<br> +<br> +This sequestered spot is approached by lanes so very narrow, that when +we arrived at the Custom-house, we found the people here had <i>taken +the measure</i> of the narrowest among them, and were waiting to apply +it to the carriage; which ceremony was gravely performed in the street, +while we all stood by in breathless suspense. It was found to +be a very tight fit, but just a possibility, and no more - as I am reminded +every day, by the sight of various large holes which it punched in the +walls on either side as it came along. We are more fortunate, +I am told, than an old lady, who took a house in these parts not long +ago, and who stuck fast in <i>her</i> carriage in a lane; and as it +was impossible to open one of the doors, she was obliged to submit to +the indignity of being hauled through one of the little front windows, +like a harlequin.<br> +<br> +When you have got through these narrow lanes, you come to an archway, +imperfectly stopped up by a rusty old gate - my gate. The rusty +old gate has a bell to correspond, which you ring as long as you like, +and which nobody answers, as it has no connection whatever with the +house. But there is a rusty old knocker, too - very loose, so +that it slides round when you touch it - and if you learn the trick +of it, and knock long enough, somebody comes. The brave Courier +comes, and gives you admittance. You walk into a seedy little +garden, all wild and weedy, from which the vineyard opens; cross it, +enter a square hall like a cellar, walk up a cracked marble staircase, +and pass into a most enormous room with a vaulted roof and whitewashed +walls: not unlike a great Methodist chapel. This is the <i>sala</i>. +It has five windows and five doors, and is decorated with pictures which +would gladden the heart of one of those picture-cleaners in London who +hang up, as a sign, a picture divided, like death and the lady, at the +top of the old ballad: which always leaves you in a state of uncertainty +whether the ingenious professor has cleaned one half, or dirtied the +other. The furniture of this <i>sala</i> is a sort of red brocade. +All the chairs are immovable, and the sofa weighs several tons.<br> +<br> +On the same floor, and opening out of this same chamber, are dining-room, +drawing-room, and divers bedrooms: each with a multiplicity of doors +and windows. Up-stairs are divers other gaunt chambers, and a +kitchen; and down-stairs is another kitchen, which, with all sorts of +strange contrivances for burning charcoal, looks like an alchemical +laboratory. There are also some half-dozen small sitting-rooms, +where the servants in this hot July, may escape from the heat of the +fire, and where the brave Courier plays all sorts of musical instruments +of his own manufacture, all the evening long. A mighty old, wandering, +ghostly, echoing, grim, bare house it is, as ever I beheld or thought +of.<br> +<br> +There is a little vine-covered terrace, opening from the drawing-room; +and under this terrace, and forming one side of the little garden, is +what used to be the stable. It is now a cow-house, and has three +cows in it, so that we get new milk by the bucketful. There is +no pasturage near, and they never go out, but are constantly lying down, +and surfeiting themselves with vine-leaves - perfect Italian cows enjoying +the <i>dolce far’ niente</i> all day long. They are presided +over, and slept with, by an old man named Antonio, and his son; two +burnt-sienna natives with naked legs and feet, who wear, each, a shirt, +a pair of trousers, and a red sash, with a relic, or some sacred charm +like the bonbon off a twelfth-cake, hanging round the neck. The +old man is very anxious to convert me to the Catholic faith, and exhorts +me frequently. We sit upon a stone by the door, sometimes in the +evening, like Robinson Crusoe and Friday reversed; and he generally +relates, towards my conversion, an abridgment of the History of Saint +Peter - chiefly, I believe, from the unspeakable delight he has in his +imitation of the cock.<br> +<br> +The view, as I have said, is charming; but in the day you must keep +the lattice-blinds close shut, or the sun would drive you mad; and when +the sun goes down you must shut up all the windows, or the mosquitoes +would tempt you to commit suicide. So at this time of the year, +you don’t see much of the prospect within doors. As for +the flies, you don’t mind them. Nor the fleas, whose size +is prodigious, and whose name is Legion, and who populate the coach-house +to that extent that I daily expect to see the carriage going off bodily, +drawn by myriads of industrious fleas in harness. The rats are +kept away, quite comfortably, by scores of lean cats, who roam about +the garden for that purpose. The lizards, of course, nobody cares +for; they play in the sun, and don’t bite. The little scorpions +are merely curious. The beetles are rather late, and have not +appeared yet. The frogs are company. There is a preserve +of them in the grounds of the next villa; and after nightfall, one would +think that scores upon scores of women in pattens were going up and +down a wet stone pavement without a moment’s cessation. +That is exactly the noise they make.<br> +<br> +The ruined chapel, on the picturesque and beautiful sea-shore, was dedicated, +once upon a time, to Saint John the Baptist. I believe there is +a legend that Saint John’s bones were received there, with various +solemnities, when they were first brought to Genoa; for Genoa possesses +them to this day. When there is any uncommon tempest at sea, they +are brought out and exhibited to the raging weather, which they never +fail to calm. In consequence of this connection of Saint John +with the city, great numbers of the common people are christened Giovanni +Baptista, which latter name is pronounced in the Genoese patois ‘Batcheetcha,’ +like a sneeze. To hear everybody calling everybody else Batcheetcha, +on a Sunday, or festa-day, when there are crowds in the streets, is +not a little singular and amusing to a stranger.<br> +<br> +The narrow lanes have great villas opening into them, whose walls (outside +walls, I mean) are profusely painted with all sorts of subjects, grim +and holy. But time and the sea-air have nearly obliterated them; +and they look like the entrance to Vauxhall Gardens on a sunny day. +The court-yards of these houses are overgrown with grass and weeds; +all sorts of hideous patches cover the bases of the statues, as if they +were afflicted with a cutaneous disorder; the outer gates are rusty; +and the iron bars outside the lower windows are all tumbling down. +Firewood is kept in halls where costly treasures might be heaped up, +mountains high; waterfalls are dry and choked; fountains, too dull to +play, and too lazy to work, have just enough recollection of their identity, +in their sleep, to make the neighbourhood damp; and the sirocco wind +is often blowing over all these things for days together, like a gigantic +oven out for a holiday.<br> +<br> +Not long ago, there was a festa-day, in honour of the <i>Virgin’s +mother</i>, when the young men of the neighbourhood, having worn green +wreaths of the vine in some procession or other, bathed in them, by +scores. It looked very odd and pretty. Though I am bound +to confess (not knowing of the festa at that time), that I thought, +and was quite satisfied, they wore them as horses do - to keep the flies +off.<br> +<br> +Soon afterwards, there was another festa-day, in honour of St. Nazaro. +One of the Albaro young men brought two large bouquets soon after breakfast, +and coming up-stairs into the great <i>sala</i>, presented them himself. +This was a polite way of begging for a contribution towards the expenses +of some music in the Saint’s honour, so we gave him whatever it +may have been, and his messenger departed: well satisfied. At +six o’clock in the evening we went to the church - close at hand +- a very gaudy place, hung all over with festoons and bright draperies, +and filled, from the altar to the main door, with women, all seated. +They wear no bonnets here, simply a long white veil - the ‘mezzero;’ +and it was the most gauzy, ethereal-looking audience I ever saw. +The young women are not generally pretty, but they walk remarkably well, +and in their personal carriage and the management of their veils, display +much innate grace and elegance. There were some men present: not +very many: and a few of these were kneeling about the aisles, while +everybody else tumbled over them. Innumerable tapers were burning +in the church; the bits of silver and tin about the saints (especially +in the Virgin’s necklace) sparkled brilliantly; the priests were +seated about the chief altar; the organ played away, lustily, and a +full band did the like; while a conductor, in a little gallery opposite +to the band, hammered away on the desk before him, with a scroll; and +a tenor, without any voice, sang. The band played one way, the +organ played another, the singer went a third, and the unfortunate conductor +banged and banged, and flourished his scroll on some principle of his +own: apparently well satisfied with the whole performance. I never +did hear such a discordant din. The heat was intense all the time.<br> +<br> +The men, in red caps, and with loose coats hanging on their shoulders +(they never put them on), were playing bowls, and buying sweetmeats, +immediately outside the church. When half-a-dozen of them finished +a game, they came into the aisle, crossed themselves with the holy water, +knelt on one knee for an instant, and walked off again to play another +game at bowls. They are remarkably expert at this diversion, and +will play in the stony lanes and streets, and on the most uneven and +disastrous ground for such a purpose, with as much nicety as on a billiard-table. +But the most favourite game is the national one of Mora, which they +pursue with surprising ardour, and at which they will stake everything +they possess. It is a destructive kind of gambling, requiring +no accessories but the ten fingers, which are always - I intend no pun +- at hand. Two men play together. One calls a number - say +the extreme one, ten. He marks what portion of it he pleases by +throwing out three, or four, or five fingers; and his adversary has, +in the same instant, at hazard, and without seeing his hand, to throw +out as many fingers, as will make the exact balance. Their eyes +and hands become so used to this, and act with such astonishing rapidity, +that an uninitiated bystander would find it very difficult, if not impossible, +to follow the progress of the game. The initiated, however, of +whom there is always an eager group looking on, devour it with the most +intense avidity; and as they are always ready to champion one side or +the other in case of a dispute, and are frequently divided in their +partisanship, it is often a very noisy proceeding. It is never +the quietest game in the world; for the numbers are always called in +a loud sharp voice, and follow as close upon each other as they can +be counted. On a holiday evening, standing at a window, or walking +in a garden, or passing through the streets, or sauntering in any quiet +place about the town, you will hear this game in progress in a score +of wine-shops at once; and looking over any vineyard walk, or turning +almost any corner, will come upon a knot of players in full cry. +It is observable that most men have a propensity to throw out some particular +number oftener than another; and the vigilance with which two sharp-eyed +players will mutually endeavour to detect this weakness, and adapt their +game to it, is very curious and entertaining. The effect is greatly +heightened by the universal suddenness and vehemence of gesture; two +men playing for half a farthing with an intensity as all-absorbing as +if the stake were life.<br> +<br> +Hard by here is a large Palazzo, formerly belonging to some member of +the Brignole family, but just now hired by a school of Jesuits for their +summer quarters. I walked into its dismantled precincts the other +evening about sunset, and couldn’t help pacing up and down for +a little time, drowsily taking in the aspect of the place: which is +repeated hereabouts in all directions.<br> +<br> +I loitered to and fro, under a colonnade, forming two sides of a weedy, +grass-grown court-yard, whereof the house formed a third side, and a +low terrace-walk, overlooking the garden and the neighbouring hills, +the fourth. I don’t believe there was an uncracked stone +in the whole pavement. In the centre was a melancholy statue, +so piebald in its decay, that it looked exactly as if it had been covered +with sticking-plaster, and afterwards powdered. The stables, coach-houses, +offices, were all empty, all ruinous, all utterly deserted.<br> +<br> +Doors had lost their hinges, and were holding on by their latches; windows +were broken, painted plaster had peeled off, and was lying about in +clods; fowls and cats had so taken possession of the out-buildings, +that I couldn’t help thinking of the fairy tales, and eyeing them +with suspicion, as transformed retainers, waiting to be changed back +again. One old Tom in particular: a scraggy brute, with a hungry +green eye (a poor relation, in reality, I am inclined to think): came +prowling round and round me, as if he half believed, for the moment, +that I might be the hero come to marry the lady, and set all to-rights; +but discovering his mistake, he suddenly gave a grim snarl, and walked +away with such a tremendous tail, that he couldn’t get into the +little hole where he lived, but was obliged to wait outside, until his +indignation and his tail had gone down together.<br> +<br> +In a sort of summer-house, or whatever it may be, in this colonnade, +some Englishmen had been living, like grubs in a nut; but the Jesuits +had given them notice to go, and they had gone, and <i>that</i> was +shut up too. The house: a wandering, echoing, thundering barrack +of a place, with the lower windows barred up, as usual, was wide open +at the door: and I have no doubt I might have gone in, and gone to bed, +and gone dead, and nobody a bit the wiser. Only one suite of rooms +on an upper floor was tenanted; and from one of these, the voice of +a young-lady vocalist, practising bravura lustily, came flaunting out +upon the silent evening.<br> +<br> +I went down into the garden, intended to be prim and quaint, with avenues, +and terraces, and orange-trees, and statues, and water in stone basins; +and everything was green, gaunt, weedy, straggling, under grown or over +grown, mildewy, damp, redolent of all sorts of slabby, clammy, creeping, +and uncomfortable life. There was nothing bright in the whole +scene but a firefly - one solitary firefly - showing against the dark +bushes like the last little speck of the departed Glory of the house; +and even it went flitting up and down at sudden angles, and leaving +a place with a jerk, and describing an irregular circle, and returning +to the same place with a twitch that startled one: as if it were looking +for the rest of the Glory, and wondering (Heaven knows it might!) what +had become of it.<br> +<br> +<br> +In the course of two months, the flitting shapes and shadows of my dismal +entering reverie gradually resolved themselves into familiar forms and +substances; and I already began to think that when the time should come, +a year hence, for closing the long holiday and turning back to England, +I might part from Genoa with anything but a glad heart.<br> +<br> +It is a place that ‘grows upon you’ every day. There +seems to be always something to find out in it. There are the +most extraordinary alleys and by-ways to walk about in. You can +lose your way (what a comfort that is, when you are idle!) twenty times +a day, if you like; and turn up again, under the most unexpected and +surprising difficulties. It abounds in the strangest contrasts; +things that are picturesque, ugly, mean, magnificent, delightful, and +offensive, break upon the view at every turn.<br> +<br> +They who would know how beautiful the country immediately surrounding +Genoa is, should climb (in clear weather) to the top of Monte Faccio, +or, at least, ride round the city walls: a feat more easily performed. +No prospect can be more diversified and lovely than the changing views +of the harbour, and the valleys of the two rivers, the Polcevera and +the Bizagno, from the heights along which the strongly fortified walls +are carried, like the great wall of China in little. In not the +least picturesque part of this ride, there is a fair specimen of a real +Genoese tavern, where the visitor may derive good entertainment from +real Genoese dishes, such as Tagliarini; Ravioli; German sausages, strong +of garlic, sliced and eaten with fresh green figs; cocks’ combs +and sheep-kidneys, chopped up with mutton chops and liver; small pieces +of some unknown part of a calf, twisted into small shreds, fried, and +served up in a great dish like white-bait; and other curiosities of +that kind. They often get wine at these suburban Trattorie, from +France and Spain and Portugal, which is brought over by small captains +in little trading-vessels. They buy it at so much a bottle, without +asking what it is, or caring to remember if anybody tells them, and +usually divide it into two heaps; of which they label one Champagne, +and the other Madeira. The various opposite flavours, qualities, +countries, ages, and vintages that are comprised under these two general +heads is quite extraordinary. The most limited range is probably +from cool Gruel up to old Marsala, and down again to apple Tea.<br> +<br> +The great majority of the streets are as narrow as any thoroughfare +can well be, where people (even Italian people) are supposed to live +and walk about; being mere lanes, with here and there a kind of well, +or breathing-place. The houses are immensely high, painted in +all sorts of colours, and are in every stage and state of damage, dirt, +and lack of repair. They are commonly let off in floors, or flats, +like the houses in the old town of Edinburgh, or many houses in Paris. +There are few street doors; the entrance halls are, for the most part, +looked upon as public property; and any moderately enterprising scavenger +might make a fine fortune by now and then clearing them out. As +it is impossible for coaches to penetrate into these streets, there +are sedan chairs, gilded and otherwise, for hire in divers places. +A great many private chairs are also kept among the nobility and gentry; +and at night these are trotted to and fro in all directions, preceded +by bearers of great lanthorns, made of linen stretched upon a frame. +The sedans and lanthorns are the legitimate successors of the long strings +of patient and much-abused mules, that go jingling their little bells +through these confined streets all day long. They follow them, +as regularly as the stars the sun.<br> +<br> +When shall I forget the Streets of Palaces: the Strada Nuova and the +Strada Balbi! or how the former looked one summer day, when I first +saw it underneath the brightest and most intensely blue of summer skies: +which its narrow perspective of immense mansions, reduced to a tapering +and most precious strip of brightness, looking down upon the heavy shade +below! A brightness not too common, even in July and August, to +be well esteemed: for, if the Truth must out, there were not eight blue +skies in as many midsummer weeks, saving, sometimes, early in the morning; +when, looking out to sea, the water and the firmament were one world +of deep and brilliant blue. At other times, there were clouds +and haze enough to make an Englishman grumble in his own climate.<br> +<br> +The endless details of these rich Palaces: the walls of some of them, +within, alive with masterpieces by Vandyke! The great, heavy, +stone balconies, one above another, and tier over tier: with here and +there, one larger than the rest, towering high up - a huge marble platform; +the doorless vestibules, massively barred lower windows, immense public +staircases, thick marble pillars, strong dungeon-like arches, and dreary, +dreaming, echoing vaulted chambers: among which the eye wanders again, +and again, and again, as every palace is succeeded by another - the +terrace gardens between house and house, with green arches of the vine, +and groves of orange-trees, and blushing oleander in full bloom, twenty, +thirty, forty feet above the street - the painted halls, mouldering, +and blotting, and rotting in the damp corners, and still shining out +in beautiful colours and voluptuous designs, where the walls are dry +- the faded figures on the outsides of the houses, holding wreaths, +and crowns, and flying upward, and downward, and standing in niches, +and here and there looking fainter and more feeble than elsewhere, by +contrast with some fresh little Cupids, who on a more recently decorated +portion of the front, are stretching out what seems to be the semblance +of a blanket, but is, indeed, a sun-dial - the steep, steep, up-hill +streets of small palaces (but very large palaces for all that), with +marble terraces looking down into close by-ways - the magnificent and +innumerable Churches; and the rapid passage from a street of stately +edifices, into a maze of the vilest squalor, steaming with unwholesome +stenches, and swarming with half-naked children and whole worlds of +dirty people - make up, altogether, such a scene of wonder: so lively, +and yet so dead: so noisy, and yet so quiet: so obtrusive, and yet so +shy and lowering: so wide awake, and yet so fast asleep: that it is +a sort of intoxication to a stranger to walk on, and on, and on, and +look about him. A bewildering phantasmagoria, with all the inconsistency +of a dream, and all the pain and all the pleasure of an extravagant +reality!<br> +<br> +The different uses to which some of these Palaces are applied, all at +once, is characteristic. For instance, the English Banker (my +excellent and hospitable friend) has his office in a good-sized Palazzo +in the Strada Nuova. In the hall (every inch of which is elaborately +painted, but which is as dirty as a police-station in London), a hook-nosed +Saracen’s Head with an immense quantity of black hair (there is +a man attached to it) sells walking-sticks. On the other side +of the doorway, a lady with a showy handkerchief for head-dress (wife +to the Saracen’s Head, I believe) sells articles of her own knitting; +and sometimes flowers. A little further in, two or three blind +men occasionally beg. Sometimes, they are visited by a man without +legs, on a little go-cart, but who has such a fresh-coloured, lively +face, and such a respectable, well-conditioned body, that he looks as +if he had sunk into the ground up to his middle, or had come, but partially, +up a flight of cellar-steps to speak to somebody. A little further +in, a few men, perhaps, lie asleep in the middle of the day; or they +may be chairmen waiting for their absent freight. If so, they +have brought their chairs in with them, and there <i>they</i> stand +also. On the left of the hall is a little room: a hatter’s +shop. On the first floor, is the English bank. On the first +floor also, is a whole house, and a good large residence too. +Heaven knows what there may be above that; but when you are there, you +have only just begun to go up-stairs. And yet, coming down-stairs +again, thinking of this; and passing out at a great crazy door in the +back of the hall, instead of turning the other way, to get into the +street again; it bangs behind you, making the dismallest and most lonesome +echoes, and you stand in a yard (the yard of the same house) which seems +to have been unvisited by human foot, for a hundred years. Not +a sound disturbs its repose. Not a head, thrust out of any of +the grim, dark, jealous windows, within sight, makes the weeds in the +cracked pavement faint of heart, by suggesting the possibility of there +being hands to grub them up. Opposite to you, is a giant figure +carved in stone, reclining, with an urn, upon a lofty piece of artificial +rockwork; and out of the urn, dangles the fag end of a leaden pipe, +which, once upon a time, poured a small torrent down the rocks. +But the eye-sockets of the giant are not drier than this channel is +now. He seems to have given his urn, which is nearly upside down, +a final tilt; and after crying, like a sepulchral child, ‘All +gone!’ to have lapsed into a stony silence.<br> +<br> +In the streets of shops, the houses are much smaller, but of great size +notwithstanding, and extremely high. They are very dirty: quite +undrained, if my nose be at all reliable: and emit a peculiar fragrance, +like the smell of very bad cheese, kept in very hot blankets. +Notwithstanding the height of the houses, there would seem to have been +a lack of room in the City, for new houses are thrust in everywhere. +Wherever it has been possible to cram a tumble-down tenement into a +crack or corner, in it has gone. If there be a nook or angle in +the wall of a church, or a crevice in any other dead wall, of any sort, +there you are sure to find some kind of habitation: looking as if it +had grown there, like a fungus. Against the Government House, +against the old Senate House, round about any large building, little +shops stick so close, like parasite vermin to the great carcase. +And for all this, look where you may: up steps, down steps, anywhere, +everywhere: there are irregular houses, receding, starting forward, +tumbling down, leaning against their neighbours, crippling themselves +or their friends by some means or other, until one, more irregular than +the rest, chokes up the way, and you can’t see any further.<br> +<br> +One of the rottenest-looking parts of the town, I think, is down by +the landing-wharf: though it may be, that its being associated with +a great deal of rottenness on the evening of our arrival, has stamped +it deeper in my mind. Here, again, the houses are very high, and +are of an infinite variety of deformed shapes, and have (as most of +the houses have) something hanging out of a great many windows, and +wafting its frowsy fragrance on the breeze. Sometimes, it is a +curtain; sometimes, it is a carpet; sometimes, it is a bed; sometimes, +a whole line-full of clothes; but there is almost always something. +Before the basement of these houses, is an arcade over the pavement: +very massive, dark, and low, like an old crypt. The stone, or +plaster, of which it is made, has turned quite black; and against every +one of these black piles, all sorts of filth and garbage seem to accumulate +spontaneously. Beneath some of the arches, the sellers of macaroni +and polenta establish their stalls, which are by no means inviting. +The offal of a fish-market, near at hand - that is to say, of a back +lane, where people sit upon the ground and on various old bulk-heads +and sheds, and sell fish when they have any to dispose of - and of a +vegetable market, constructed on the same principle - are contributed +to the decoration of this quarter; and as all the mercantile business +is transacted here, and it is crowded all day, it has a very decided +flavour about it. The Porto Franco, or Free Port (where goods +brought in from foreign countries pay no duty until they are sold and +taken out, as in a bonded warehouse in England), is down here also; +and two portentous officials, in cocked hats, stand at the gate to search +you if they choose, and to keep out Monks and Ladies. For, Sanctity +as well as Beauty has been known to yield to the temptation of smuggling, +and in the same way: that is to say, by concealing the smuggled property +beneath the loose folds of its dress. So Sanctity and Beauty may, +by no means, enter.<br> +<br> +The streets of Genoa would be all the better for the importation of +a few Priests of prepossessing appearance. Every fourth or fifth +man in the streets is a Priest or a Monk; and there is pretty sure to +be at least one itinerant ecclesiastic inside or outside every hackney +carriage on the neighbouring roads. I have no knowledge, elsewhere, +of more repulsive countenances than are to be found among these gentry. +If Nature’s handwriting be at all legible, greater varieties of +sloth, deceit, and intellectual torpor, could hardly be observed among +any class of men in the world.<br> +<br> +MR. PEPYS once heard a clergyman assert in his sermon, in illustration +of his respect for the Priestly office, that if he could meet a Priest +and angel together, he would salute the Priest first. I am rather +of the opinion of PETRARCH, who, when his pupil BOCCACCIO wrote to him +in great tribulation, that he had been visited and admonished for his +writings by a Carthusian Friar who claimed to be a messenger immediately +commissioned by Heaven for that purpose, replied, that for his own part, +he would take the liberty of testing the reality of the commission by +personal observation of the Messenger’s face, eyes, forehead, +behaviour, and discourse. I cannot but believe myself, from similar +observation, that many unaccredited celestial messengers may be seen +skulking through the streets of Genoa, or droning away their lives in +other Italian towns.<br> +<br> +Perhaps the Cappuccíni, though not a learned body, are, as an +order, the best friends of the people. They seem to mingle with +them more immediately, as their counsellors and comforters; and to go +among them more, when they are sick; and to pry less than some other +orders, into the secrets of families, for the purpose of establishing +a baleful ascendency over their weaker members; and to be influenced +by a less fierce desire to make converts, and once made, to let them +go to ruin, soul and body. They may be seen, in their coarse dress, +in all parts of the town at all times, and begging in the markets early +in the morning. The Jesuits too, muster strong in the streets, +and go slinking noiselessly about, in pairs, like black cats.<br> +<br> +In some of the narrow passages, distinct trades congregate. There +is a street of jewellers, and there is a row of booksellers; but even +down in places where nobody ever can, or ever could, penetrate in a +carriage, there are mighty old palaces shut in among the gloomiest and +closest walls, and almost shut out from the sun. Very few of the +tradesmen have any idea of setting forth their goods, or disposing them +for show. If you, a stranger, want to buy anything, you usually +look round the shop till you see it; then clutch it, if it be within +reach, and inquire how much. Everything is sold at the most unlikely +place. If you want coffee, you go to a sweetmeat shop; and if +you want meat, you will probably find it behind an old checked curtain, +down half-a-dozen steps, in some sequestered nook as hard to find as +if the commodity were poison, and Genoa’s law were death to any +that uttered it.<br> +<br> +Most of the apothecaries’ shops are great lounging-places. +Here, grave men with sticks, sit down in the shade for hours together, +passing a meagre Genoa paper from hand to hand, and talking, drowsily +and sparingly, about the News. Two or three of these are poor +physicians, ready to proclaim themselves on an emergency, and tear off +with any messenger who may arrive. You may know them by the way +in which they stretch their necks to listen, when you enter; and by +the sigh with which they fall back again into their dull corners, on +finding that you only want medicine. Few people lounge in the +barbers’ shops; though they are very numerous, as hardly any man +shaves himself. But the apothecary’s has its group of loungers, +who sit back among the bottles, with their hands folded over the tops +of their sticks. So still and quiet, that either you don’t +see them in the darkened shop, or mistake them - as I did one ghostly +man in bottle-green, one day, with a hat like a stopper - for Horse +Medicine.<br> +<br> +On a summer evening the Genoese are as fond of putting themselves, as +their ancestors were of putting houses, in every available inch of space +in and about the town. In all the lanes and alleys, and up every +little ascent, and on every dwarf wall, and on every flight of steps, +they cluster like bees. Meanwhile (and especially on festa-days) +the bells of the churches ring incessantly; not in peals, or any known +form of sound, but in a horrible, irregular, jerking, dingle, dingle, +dingle: with a sudden stop at every fifteenth dingle or so, which is +maddening. This performance is usually achieved by a boy up in +the steeple, who takes hold of the clapper, or a little rope attached +to it, and tries to dingle louder than every other boy similarly employed. +The noise is supposed to be particularly obnoxious to Evil Spirits; +but looking up into the steeples, and seeing (and hearing) these young +Christians thus engaged, one might very naturally mistake them for the +Enemy.<br> +<br> +Festa-days, early in the autumn, are very numerous. All the shops +were shut up, twice within a week, for these holidays; and one night, +all the houses in the neighbourhood of a particular church were illuminated, +while the church itself was lighted, outside, with torches; and a grove +of blazing links was erected, in an open space outside one of the city +gates. This part of the ceremony is prettier and more singular +a little way in the country, where you can trace the illuminated cottages +all the way up a steep hill-side; and where you pass festoons of tapers, +wasting away in the starlight night, before some lonely little house +upon the road.<br> +<br> +On these days, they always dress the church of the saint in whose honour +the festa is holden, very gaily. Gold-embroidered festoons of +different colours, hang from the arches; the altar furniture is set +forth; and sometimes, even the lofty pillars are swathed from top to +bottom in tight-fitting draperies. The cathedral is dedicated +to St. Lorenzo. On St. Lorenzo’s day, we went into it, just +as the sun was setting. Although these decorations are usually +in very indifferent taste, the effect, just then, was very superb indeed. +For the whole building was dressed in red; and the sinking sun, streaming +in, through a great red curtain in the chief doorway, made all the gorgeousness +its own. When the sun went down, and it gradually grew quite dark +inside, except for a few twinkling tapers on the principal altar, and +some small dangling silver lamps, it was very mysterious and effective. +But, sitting in any of the churches towards evening, is like a mild +dose of opium.<br> +<br> +With the money collected at a festa, they usually pay for the dressing +of the church, and for the hiring of the band, and for the tapers. +If there be any left (which seldom happens, I believe), the souls in +Purgatory get the benefit of it. They are also supposed to have +the benefit of the exertions of certain small boys, who shake money-boxes +before some mysterious little buildings like rural turnpikes, which +(usually shut up close) fly open on Red-letter days, and disclose an +image and some flowers inside.<br> +<br> +Just without the city gate, on the Albara road, is a small house, with +an altar in it, and a stationary money-box: also for the benefit of +the souls in Purgatory. Still further to stimulate the charitable, +there is a monstrous painting on the plaster, on either side of the +grated door, representing a select party of souls, frying. One +of them has a grey moustache, and an elaborate head of grey hair: as +if he had been taken out of a hairdresser’s window and cast into +the furnace. There he is: a most grotesque and hideously comic +old soul: for ever blistering in the real sun, and melting in the mimic +fire, for the gratification and improvement (and the contributions) +of the poor Genoese.<br> +<br> +They are not a very joyous people, and are seldom seen to dance on their +holidays: the staple places of entertainment among the women, being +the churches and the public walks. They are very good-tempered, +obliging, and industrious. Industry has not made them clean, for +their habitations are extremely filthy, and their usual occupation on +a fine Sunday morning, is to sit at their doors, hunting in each other’s +heads. But their dwellings are so close and confined that if those +parts of the city had been beaten down by Massena in the time of the +terrible Blockade, it would have at least occasioned one public benefit +among many misfortunes.<br> +<br> +The Peasant Women, with naked feet and legs, are so constantly washing +clothes, in the public tanks, and in every stream and ditch, that one +cannot help wondering, in the midst of all this dirt, who wears them +when they are clean. The custom is to lay the wet linen which +is being operated upon, on a smooth stone, and hammer away at it, with +a flat wooden mallet. This they do, as furiously as if they were +revenging themselves on dress in general for being connected with the +Fall of Mankind.<br> +<br> +It is not unusual to see, lying on the edge of the tank at these times, +or on another flat stone, an unfortunate baby, tightly swathed up, arms +and legs and all, in an enormous quantity of wrapper, so that it is +unable to move a toe or finger. This custom (which we often see +represented in old pictures) is universal among the common people. +A child is left anywhere without the possibility of crawling away, or +is accidentally knocked off a shelf, or tumbled out of bed, or is hung +up to a hook now and then, and left dangling like a doll at an English +rag-shop, without the least inconvenience to anybody.<br> +<br> +I was sitting, one Sunday, soon after my arrival, in the little country +church of San Martino, a couple of miles from the city, while a baptism +took place. I saw the priest, and an attendant with a large taper, +and a man, and a woman, and some others; but I had no more idea, until +the ceremony was all over, that it was a baptism, or that the curious +little stiff instrument, that was passed from one to another, in the +course of the ceremony, by the handle - like a short poker - was a child, +than I had that it was my own christening. I borrowed the child +afterwards, for a minute or two (it was lying across the font then), +and found it very red in the face but perfectly quiet, and not to be +bent on any terms. The number of cripples in the streets, soon +ceased to surprise me.<br> +<br> +There are plenty of Saints’ and Virgin’s Shrines, of course; +generally at the corners of streets. The favourite memento to +the Faithful, about Genoa, is a painting, representing a peasant on +his knees, with a spade and some other agricultural implements beside +him; and the Madonna, with the Infant Saviour in her arms, appearing +to him in a cloud. This is the legend of the Madonna della Guardia: +a chapel on a mountain within a few miles, which is in high repute. +It seems that this peasant lived all alone by himself, tilling some +land atop of the mountain, where, being a devout man, he daily said +his prayers to the Virgin in the open air; for his hut was a very poor +one. Upon a certain day, the Virgin appeared to him, as in the +picture, and said, ‘Why do you pray in the open air, and without +a priest?’ The peasant explained because there was neither +priest nor church at hand - a very uncommon complaint indeed in Italy. +‘I should wish, then,’ said the Celestial Visitor, ‘to +have a chapel built here, in which the prayers of the Faithful may be +offered up.’ ‘But, Santissima Madonna,’ said +the peasant, ‘I am a poor man; and chapels cannot be built without +money. They must be supported, too, Santissima; for to have a +chapel and not support it liberally, is a wickedness - a deadly sin.’ +This sentiment gave great satisfaction to the visitor. ‘Go!’ +said she. ‘There is such a village in the valley on the +left, and such another village in the valley on the right, and such +another village elsewhere, that will gladly contribute to the building +of a chapel. Go to them! Relate what you have seen; and +do not doubt that sufficient money will be forthcoming to erect my chapel, +or that it will, afterwards, be handsomely maintained.’ +All of which (miraculously) turned out to be quite true. And in +proof of this prediction and revelation, there is the chapel of the +Madonna della Guardia, rich and flourishing at this day.<br> +<br> +The splendour and variety of the Genoese churches, can hardly be exaggerated. +The church of the Annunciata especially: built, like many of the others, +at the cost of one noble family, and now in slow progress of repair: +from the outer door to the utmost height of the high cupola, is so elaborately +painted and set in gold, that it looks (as SIMOND describes it, in his +charming book on Italy) like a great enamelled snuff-box. Most +of the richer churches contain some beautiful pictures, or other embellishments +of great price, almost universally set, side by side, with sprawling +effigies of maudlin monks, and the veriest trash and tinsel ever seen.<br> +<br> +It may be a consequence of the frequent direction of the popular mind, +and pocket, to the souls in Purgatory, but there is very little tenderness +for the <i>bodies</i> of the dead here. For the very poor, there +are, immediately outside one angle of the walls, and behind a jutting +point of the fortification, near the sea, certain common pits - one +for every day in the year - which all remain closed up, until the turn +of each comes for its daily reception of dead bodies. Among the +troops in the town, there are usually some Swiss: more or less. +When any of these die, they are buried out of a fund maintained by such +of their countrymen as are resident in Genoa. Their providing +coffins for these men is matter of great astonishment to the authorities.<br> +<br> +Certainly, the effect of this promiscuous and indecent splashing down +of dead people in so many wells, is bad. It surrounds Death with +revolting associations, that insensibly become connected with those +whom Death is approaching. Indifference and avoidance are the +natural result; and all the softening influences of the great sorrow +are harshly disturbed.<br> +<br> +There is a ceremony when an old Cavaliére or the like, expires, +of erecting a pile of benches in the cathedral, to represent his bier; +covering them over with a pall of black velvet; putting his hat and +sword on the top; making a little square of seats about the whole; and +sending out formal invitations to his friends and acquaintances to come +and sit there, and hear Mass: which is performed at the principal Altar, +decorated with an infinity of candles for that purpose.<br> +<br> +When the better kind of people die, or are at the point of death, their +nearest relations generally walk off: retiring into the country for +a little change, and leaving the body to be disposed of, without any +superintendence from them. The procession is usually formed, and +the coffin borne, and the funeral conducted, by a body of persons called +a Confratérnita, who, as a kind of voluntary penance, undertake +to perform these offices, in regular rotation, for the dead; but who, +mingling something of pride with their humility, are dressed in a loose +garment covering their whole person, and wear a hood concealing the +face; with breathing-holes and apertures for the eyes. The effect +of this costume is very ghastly: especially in the case of a certain +Blue Confratérnita belonging to Genoa, who, to say the least +of them, are very ugly customers, and who look - suddenly encountered +in their pious ministration in the streets - as if they were Ghoules +or Demons, bearing off the body for themselves.<br> +<br> +Although such a custom may be liable to the abuse attendant on many +Italian customs, of being recognised as a means of establishing a current +account with Heaven, on which to draw, too easily, for future bad actions, +or as an expiation for past misdeeds, it must be admitted to be a good +one, and a practical one, and one involving unquestionably good works. +A voluntary service like this, is surely better than the imposed penance +(not at all an infrequent one) of giving so many licks to such and such +a stone in the pavement of the cathedral; or than a vow to the Madonna +to wear nothing but blue for a year or two. This is supposed to +give great delight above; blue being (as is well known) the Madonna’s +favourite colour. Women who have devoted themselves to this act +of Faith, are very commonly seen walking in the streets.<br> +<br> +There are three theatres in the city, besides an old one now rarely +opened. The most important - the Carlo Felice: the opera-house +of Genoa - is a very splendid, commodious, and beautiful theatre. +A company of comedians were acting there, when we arrived: and soon +after their departure, a second-rate opera company came. The great +season is not until the carnival time - in the spring. Nothing +impressed me, so much, in my visits here (which were pretty numerous) +as the uncommonly hard and cruel character of the audience, who resent +the slightest defect, take nothing good-humouredly, seem to be always +lying in wait for an opportunity to hiss, and spare the actresses as +little as the actors.<br> +<br> +But, as there is nothing else of a public nature at which they are allowed +to express the least disapprobation, perhaps they are resolved to make +the most of this opportunity.<br> +<br> +There are a great number of Piedmontese officers too, who are allowed +the privilege of kicking their heels in the pit, for next to nothing: +gratuitous, or cheap accommodation for these gentlemen being insisted +on, by the Governor, in all public or semi-public entertainments. +They are lofty critics in consequence, and infinitely more exacting +than if they made the unhappy manager’s fortune.<br> +<br> +The TEATRO DIURNO, or Day Theatre, is a covered stage in the open air, +where the performances take place by daylight, in the cool of the afternoon; +commencing at four or five o’clock, and lasting, some three hours. +It is curious, sitting among the audience, to have a fine view of the +neighbouring hills and houses, and to see the neighbours at their windows +looking on, and to hear the bells of the churches and convents ringing +at most complete cross-purposes with the scene. Beyond this, and +the novelty of seeing a play in the fresh pleasant air, with the darkening +evening closing in, there is nothing very exciting or characteristic +in the performances. The actors are indifferent; and though they +sometimes represent one of Goldoni’s comedies, the staple of the +Drama is French. Anything like nationality is dangerous to despotic +governments, and Jesuit-beleaguered kings.<br> +<br> +The Theatre of Puppets, or Marionetti - a famous company from Milan +- is, without any exception, the drollest exhibition I ever beheld in +my life. I never saw anything so exquisitely ridiculous. +They <i>look</i> between four and five feet high, but are really much +smaller; for when a musician in the orchestra happens to put his hat +on the stage, it becomes alarmingly gigantic, and almost blots out an +actor. They usually play a comedy, and a ballet. The comic +man in the comedy I saw one summer night, is a waiter in an hotel. +There never was such a locomotive actor, since the world began. +Great pains are taken with him. He has extra joints in his legs: +and a practical eye, with which he winks at the pit, in a manner that +is absolutely insupportable to a stranger, but which the initiated audience, +mainly composed of the common people, receive (so they do everything +else) quite as a matter of course, and as if he were a man. His +spirits are prodigious. He continually shakes his legs, and winks +his eye. And there is a heavy father with grey hair, who sits +down on the regular conventional stage-bank, and blesses his daughter +in the regular conventional way, who is tremendous. No one would +suppose it possible that anything short of a real man could be so tedious. +It is the triumph of art.<br> +<br> +In the ballet, an Enchanter runs away with the Bride, in the very hour +of her nuptials, He brings her to his cave, and tries to soothe her. +They sit down on a sofa (the regular sofa! in the regular place, O. +P. Second Entrance!) and a procession of musicians enters; one creature +playing a drum, and knocking himself off his legs at every blow. +These failing to delight her, dancers appear. Four first; then +two; <i>the</i> two; the flesh-coloured two. The way in which +they dance; the height to which they spring; the impossible and inhuman +extent to which they pirouette; the revelation of their preposterous +legs; the coming down with a pause, on the very tips of their toes, +when the music requires it; the gentleman’s retiring up, when +it is the lady’s turn; and the lady’s retiring up, when +it is the gentleman’s turn; the final passion of a pas-de-deux; +and the going off with a bound! - I shall never see a real ballet, with +a composed countenance again.<br> +<br> +I went, another night, to see these Puppets act a play called ‘St. +Helena, or the Death of Napoleon.’ It began by the disclosure +of Napoleon, with an immense head, seated on a sofa in his chamber at +St. Helena; to whom his valet entered with this obscure announcement:<br> +<br> +‘Sir Yew ud se on Low?’ (the <i>ow</i>, as in cow).<br> +<br> +Sir Hudson (that you could have seen his regimentals!) was a perfect +mammoth of a man, to Napoleon; hideously ugly, with a monstrously disproportionate +face, and a great clump for the lower-jaw, to express his tyrannical +and obdurate nature. He began his system of persecution, by calling +his prisoner ‘General Buonaparte;’ to which the latter replied, +with the deepest tragedy, ‘Sir Yew ud se on Low, call me not thus. +Repeat that phrase and leave me! I am Napoleon, Emperor of France!’ +Sir Yew ud se on, nothing daunted, proceeded to entertain him with an +ordinance of the British Government, regulating the state he should +preserve, and the furniture of his rooms: and limiting his attendants +to four or five persons. ‘Four or five for <i>me</i>!’ +said Napoleon. ‘Me! One hundred thousand men were +lately at my sole command; and this English officer talks of four or +five for <i>me</i>!’ Throughout the piece, Napoleon (who +talked very like the real Napoleon, and was, for ever, having small +soliloquies by himself) was very bitter on ‘these English officers,’ +and ‘these English soldiers;’ to the great satisfaction +of the audience, who were perfectly delighted to have Low bullied; and +who, whenever Low said ‘General Buonaparte’ (which he always +did: always receiving the same correction), quite execrated him. +It would be hard to say why; for Italians have little cause to sympathise +with Napoleon, Heaven knows.<br> +<br> +There was no plot at all, except that a French officer, disguised as +an Englishman, came to propound a plan of escape; and being discovered, +but not before Napoleon had magnanimously refused to steal his freedom, +was immediately ordered off by Low to be hanged. In two very long +speeches, which Low made memorable, by winding up with ‘Yas!’ +- to show that he was English - which brought down thunders of applause. +Napoleon was so affected by this catastrophe, that he fainted away on +the spot, and was carried out by two other puppets. Judging from +what followed, it would appear that he never recovered the shock; for +the next act showed him, in a clean shirt, in his bed (curtains crimson +and white), where a lady, prematurely dressed in mourning, brought two +little children, who kneeled down by the bedside, while he made a decent +end; the last word on his lips being ‘Vatterlo.’<br> +<br> +It was unspeakably ludicrous. Buonaparte’s boots were so +wonderfully beyond control, and did such marvellous things of their +own accord: doubling themselves up, and getting under tables, and dangling +in the air, and sometimes skating away with him, out of all human knowledge, +when he was in full speech - mischances which were not rendered the +less absurd, by a settled melancholy depicted in his face. To +put an end to one conference with Low, he had to go to a table, and +read a book: when it was the finest spectacle I ever beheld, to see +his body bending over the volume, like a boot-jack, and his sentimental +eyes glaring obstinately into the pit. He was prodigiously good, +in bed, with an immense collar to his shirt, and his little hands outside +the coverlet. So was Dr. Antommarchi, represented by a puppet +with long lank hair, like Mawworm’s, who, in consequence of some +derangement of his wires, hovered about the couch like a vulture, and +gave medical opinions in the air. He was almost as good as Low, +though the latter was great at all times - a decided brute and villain, +beyond all possibility of mistake. Low was especially fine at +the last, when, hearing the doctor and the valet say, ‘The Emperor +is dead!’ he pulled out his watch, and wound up the piece (not +the watch) by exclaiming, with characteristic brutality, ‘Ha! +ha! Eleven minutes to six! The General dead! and the spy +hanged!’ This brought the curtain down, triumphantly.<br> +<br> +<br> +There is not in Italy, they say (and I believe them), a lovelier residence +than the Palazzo Peschiere, or Palace of the Fishponds, whither we removed +as soon as our three months’ tenancy of the Pink Jail at Albaro +had ceased and determined.<br> +<br> +It stands on a height within the walls of Genoa, but aloof from the +town: surrounded by beautiful gardens of its own, adorned with statues, +vases, fountains, marble basins, terraces, walks of orange-trees and +lemon-trees, groves of roses and camellias. All its apartments +are beautiful in their proportions and decorations; but the great hall, +some fifty feet in height, with three large windows at the end, overlooking +the whole town of Genoa, the harbour, and the neighbouring sea, affords +one of the most fascinating and delightful prospects in the world. +Any house more cheerful and habitable than the great rooms are, within, +it would be difficult to conceive; and certainly nothing more delicious +than the scene without, in sunshine or in moonlight, could be imagined. +It is more like an enchanted place in an Eastern story than a grave +and sober lodging.<br> +<br> +How you may wander on, from room to room, and never tire of the wild +fancies on the walls and ceilings, as bright in their fresh colouring +as if they had been painted yesterday; or how one floor, or even the +great hall which opens on eight other rooms, is a spacious promenade; +or how there are corridors and bed-chambers above, which we never use +and rarely visit, and scarcely know the way through; or how there is +a view of a perfectly different character on each of the four sides +of the building; matters little. But that prospect from the hall +is like a vision to me. I go back to it, in fancy, as I have done +in calm reality a hundred times a day; and stand there, looking out, +with the sweet scents from the garden rising up about me, in a perfect +dream of happiness.<br> +<br> +There lies all Genoa, in beautiful confusion, with its many churches, +monasteries, and convents, pointing up into the sunny sky; and down +below me, just where the roofs begin, a solitary convent parapet, fashioned +like a gallery, with an iron across at the end, where sometimes early +in the morning, I have seen a little group of dark-veiled nuns gliding +sorrowfully to and fro, and stopping now and then to peep down upon +the waking world in which they have no part. Old Monte Faccio, +brightest of hills in good weather, but sulkiest when storms are coming +on, is here, upon the left. The Fort within the walls (the good +King built it to command the town, and beat the houses of the Genoese +about their ears, in case they should be discontented) commands that +height upon the right. The broad sea lies beyond, in front there; +and that line of coast, beginning by the light-house, and tapering away, +a mere speck in the rosy distance, is the beautiful coast road that +leads to Nice. The garden near at hand, among the roofs and houses: +all red with roses and fresh with little fountains: is the Acqua Sola +- a public promenade, where the military band plays gaily, and the white +veils cluster thick, and the Genoese nobility ride round, and round, +and round, in state-clothes and coaches at least, if not in absolute +wisdom. Within a stone’s-throw, as it seems, the audience +of the Day Theatre sit: their faces turned this way. But as the +stage is hidden, it is very odd, without a knowledge of the cause, to +see their faces changed so suddenly from earnestness to laughter; and +odder still, to hear the rounds upon rounds of applause, rattling in +the evening air, to which the curtain falls. But, being Sunday +night, they act their best and most attractive play. And now, +the sun is going down, in such magnificent array of red, and green, +and golden light, as neither pen nor pencil could depict; and to the +ringing of the vesper bells, darkness sets in at once, without a twilight. +Then, lights begin to shine in Genoa, and on the country road; and the +revolving lanthorn out at sea there, flashing, for an instant, on this +palace front and portico, illuminates it as if there were a bright moon +bursting from behind a cloud; then, merges it in deep obscurity. +And this, so far as I know, is the only reason why the Genoese avoid +it after dark, and think it haunted.<br> +<br> +My memory will haunt it, many nights, in time to come; but nothing worse, +I will engage. The same Ghost will occasionally sail away, as +I did one pleasant autumn evening, into the bright prospect, and sniff +the morning air at Marseilles.<br> +<br> +The corpulent hairdresser was still sitting in his slippers outside +his shop-door there, but the twirling ladies in the window, with the +natural inconstancy of their sex, had ceased to twirl, and were languishing, +stock still, with their beautiful faces addressed to blind corners of +the establishment, where it was impossible for admirers to penetrate.<br> +<br> +The steamer had come from Genoa in a delicious run of eighteen hours, +and we were going to run back again by the Cornice road from Nice: not +being satisfied to have seen only the outsides of the beautiful towns +that rise in picturesque white clusters from among the olive woods, +and rocks, and hills, upon the margin of the Sea.<br> +<br> +The Boat which started for Nice that night, at eight o’clock, +was very small, and so crowded with goods that there was scarcely room +to move; neither was there anything to cat on board, except bread; nor +to drink, except coffee. But being due at Nice at about eight +or so in the morning, this was of no consequence; so when we began to +wink at the bright stars, in involuntary acknowledgment of their winking +at us, we turned into our berths, in a crowded, but cool little cabin, +and slept soundly till morning.<br> +<br> +The Boat, being as dull and dogged a little boat as ever was built, +it was within an hour of noon when we turned into Nice Harbour, where +we very little expected anything but breakfast. But we were laden +with wool. Wool must not remain in the Custom-house at Marseilles +more than twelve months at a stretch, without paying duty. It +is the custom to make fictitious removals of unsold wool to evade this +law; to take it somewhere when the twelve months are nearly out; bring +it straight back again; and warehouse it, as a new cargo, for nearly +twelve months longer. This wool of ours, had come originally from +some place in the East. It was recognised as Eastern produce, +the moment we entered the harbour. Accordingly, the gay little +Sunday boats, full of holiday people, which had come off to greet us, +were warned away by the authorities; we were declared in quarantine; +and a great flag was solemnly run up to the mast-head on the wharf, +to make it known to all the town.<br> +<br> +It was a very hot day indeed. We were unshaved, unwashed, undressed, +unfed, and could hardly enjoy the absurdity of lying blistering in a +lazy harbour, with the town looking on from a respectful distance, all +manner of whiskered men in cocked hats discussing our fate at a remote +guard-house, with gestures (we looked very hard at them through telescopes) +expressive of a week’s detention at least: and nothing whatever +the matter all the time. But even in this crisis the brave Courier +achieved a triumph. He telegraphed somebody (<i>I</i> saw nobody) +either naturally connected with the hotel, or put <i>en rapport</i> +with the establishment for that occasion only. The telegraph was +answered, and in half an hour or less, there came a loud shout from +the guard-house. The captain was wanted. Everybody helped +the captain into his boat. Everybody got his luggage, and said +we were going. The captain rowed away, and disappeared behind +a little jutting corner of the Galley-slaves’ Prison: and presently +came back with something, very sulkily. The brave Courier met +him at the side, and received the something as its rightful owner. +It was a wicker basket, folded in a linen cloth; and in it were two +great bottles of wine, a roast fowl, some salt fish chopped with garlic, +a great loaf of bread, a dozen or so of peaches, and a few other trifles. +When we had selected our own breakfast, the brave Courier invited a +chosen party to partake of these refreshments, and assured them that +they need not be deterred by motives of delicacy, as he would order +a second basket to be furnished at their expense. Which he did +- no one knew how - and by-and-by, the captain being again summoned, +again sulkily returned with another something; over which my popular +attendant presided as before: carving with a clasp-knife, his own personal +property, something smaller than a Roman sword.<br> +<br> +The whole party on board were made merry by these unexpected supplies; +but none more so than a loquacious little Frenchman, who got drunk in +five minutes, and a sturdy Cappuccíno Friar, who had taken everybody’s +fancy mightily, and was one of the best friars in the world, I verily +believe.<br> +<br> +He had a free, open countenance; and a rich brown, flowing beard; and +was a remarkably handsome man, of about fifty. He had come up +to us, early in the morning, and inquired whether we were sure to be +at Nice by eleven; saying that he particularly wanted to know, because +if we reached it by that time he would have to perform Mass, and must +deal with the consecrated wafer, fasting; whereas, if there were no +chance of his being in time, he would immediately breakfast. He +made this communication, under the idea that the brave Courier was the +captain; and indeed he looked much more like it than anybody else on +board. Being assured that we should arrive in good time, he fasted, +and talked, fasting, to everybody, with the most charming good humour; +answering jokes at the expense of friars, with other jokes at the expense +of laymen, and saying that, friar as he was, he would engage to take +up the two strongest men on board, one after the other, with his teeth, +and carry them along the deck. Nobody gave him the opportunity, +but I dare say he could have done it; for he was a gallant, noble figure +of a man, even in the Cappuccíno dress, which is the ugliest +and most ungainly that can well be.<br> +<br> +All this had given great delight to the loquacious Frenchman, who gradually +patronised the Friar very much, and seemed to commiserate him as one +who might have been born a Frenchman himself, but for an unfortunate +destiny. Although his patronage was such as a mouse might bestow +upon a lion, he had a vast opinion of its condescension; and in the +warmth of that sentiment, occasionally rose on tiptoe, to slap the Friar +on the back.<br> +<br> +When the baskets arrived: it being then too late for Mass: the Friar +went to work bravely: eating prodigiously of the cold meat and bread, +drinking deep draughts of the wine, smoking cigars, taking snuff, sustaining +an uninterrupted conversation with all hands, and occasionally running +to the boat’s side and hailing somebody on shore with the intelligence +that we <i>must</i> be got out of this quarantine somehow or other, +as he had to take part in a great religious procession in the afternoon. +After this, he would come back, laughing lustily from pure good humour: +while the Frenchman wrinkled his small face into ten thousand creases, +and said how droll it was, and what a brave boy was that Friar! +At length the heat of the sun without, and the wine within, made the +Frenchman sleepy. So, in the noontide of his patronage of his +gigantic protégé, he lay down among the wool, and began +to snore.<br> +<br> +It was four o’clock before we were released; and the Frenchman, +dirty and woolly, and snuffy, was still sleeping when the Friar went +ashore. As soon as we were free, we all hurried away, to wash +and dress, that we might make a decent appearance at the procession; +and I saw no more of the Frenchman until we took up our station in the +main street to see it pass, when he squeezed himself into a front place, +elaborately renovated; threw back his little coat, to show a broad-barred +velvet waistcoat, sprinkled all over with stars; then adjusted himself +and his cane so as utterly to bewilder and transfix the Friar, when +he should appear.<br> +<br> +The procession was a very long one, and included an immense number of +people divided into small parties; each party chanting nasally, on its +own account, without reference to any other, and producing a most dismal +result. There were angels, crosses, Virgins carried on flat boards +surrounded by Cupids, crowns, saints, missals, infantry, tapers, monks, +nuns, relics, dignitaries of the church in green hats, walking under +crimson parasols: and, here and there, a species of sacred street-lamp +hoisted on a pole. We looked out anxiously for the Cappuccíni, +and presently their brown robes and corded girdles were seen coming +on, in a body.<br> +<br> +I observed the little Frenchman chuckle over the idea that when the +Friar saw him in the broad-barred waistcoat, he would mentally exclaim, +‘Is that my Patron! <i>That</i> distinguished man!’ +and would be covered with confusion. Ah! never was the Frenchman +so deceived. As our friend the Cappuccíno advanced, with +folded arms, he looked straight into the visage of the little Frenchman, +with a bland, serene, composed abstraction, not to be described. +There was not the faintest trace of recognition or amusement on his +features; not the smallest consciousness of bread and meat, wine, snuff, +or cigars. ‘C’est lui-même,’ I heard the +little Frenchman say, in some doubt. Oh yes, it was himself. +It was not his brother or his nephew, very like him. It was he. +He walked in great state: being one of the Superiors of the Order: and +looked his part to admiration. There never was anything so perfect +of its kind as the contemplative way in which he allowed his placid +gaze to rest on us, his late companions, as if he had never seen us +in his life and didn’t see us then. The Frenchman, quite +humbled, took off his hat at last, but the Friar still passed on, with +the same imperturbable serenity; and the broad-barred waistcoat, fading +into the crowd, was seen no more.<br> +<br> +The procession wound up with a discharge of musketry that shook all +the windows in the town. Next afternoon we started for Genoa, +by the famed Cornice road.<br> +<br> +The half-French, half-Italian Vetturíno, who undertook, with +his little rattling carriage and pair, to convey us thither in three +days, was a careless, good-looking fellow, whose light-heartedness and +singing propensities knew no bounds as long as we went on smoothly. +So long, he had a word and a smile, and a flick of his whip, for all +the peasant girls, and odds and ends of the Sonnambula for all the echoes. +So long, he went jingling through every little village, with bells on +his horses and rings in his ears: a very meteor of gallantry and cheerfulness. +But, it was highly characteristic to see him under a slight reverse +of circumstances, when, in one part of the journey, we came to a narrow +place where a waggon had broken down and stopped up the road. +His hands were twined in his hair immediately, as if a combination of +all the direst accidents in life had suddenly fallen on his devoted +head. He swore in French, prayed in Italian, and went up and down, +beating his feet on the ground in a very ecstasy of despair. There +were various carters and mule-drivers assembled round the broken waggon, +and at last some man of an original turn of mind, proposed that a general +and joint effort should be made to get things to-rights again, and clear +the way - an idea which I verily believe would never have presented +itself to our friend, though we had remained there until now. +It was done at no great cost of labour; but at every pause in the doing, +his hands were wound in his hair again, as if there were no ray of hope +to lighten his misery. The moment he was on his box once more, +and clattering briskly down hill, he returned to the Sonnambula and +the peasant girls, as if it were not in the power of misfortune to depress +him.<br> +<br> +Much of the romance of the beautiful towns and villages on this beautiful +road, disappears when they are entered, for many of them are very miserable. +The streets are narrow, dark, and dirty; the inhabitants lean and squalid; +and the withered old women, with their wiry grey hair twisted up into +a knot on the top of the head, like a pad to carry loads on, are so +intensely ugly, both along the Riviera, and in Genoa, too, that, seen +straggling about in dim doorways with their spindles, or crooning together +in by-corners, they are like a population of Witches - except that they +certainly are not to be suspected of brooms or any other instrument +of cleanliness. Neither are the pig-skins, in common use to hold +wine, and hung out in the sun in all directions, by any means ornamental, +as they always preserve the form of very bloated pigs, with their heads +and legs cut off, dangling upside-down by their own tails.<br> +<br> +These towns, as they are seen in the approach, however: nestling, with +their clustering roofs and towers, among trees on steep hill-sides, +or built upon the brink of noble bays: are charming. The vegetation +is, everywhere, luxuriant and beautiful, and the Palm-tree makes a novel +feature in the novel scenery. In one town, San Remo - a most extraordinary +place, built on gloomy open arches, so that one might ramble underneath +the whole town - there are pretty terrace gardens; in other towns, there +is the clang of shipwrights’ hammers, and the building of small +vessels on the beach. In some of the broad bays, the fleets of +Europe might ride at anchor. In every case, each little group +of houses presents, in the distance, some enchanting confusion of picturesque +and fanciful shapes.<br> +<br> +The road itself - now high above the glittering sea, which breaks against +the foot of the precipice: now turning inland to sweep the shore of +a bay: now crossing the stony bed of a mountain stream: now low down +on the beach: now winding among riven rocks of many forms and colours: +now chequered by a solitary ruined tower, one of a chain of towers built, +in old time, to protect the coast from the invasions of the Barbary +Corsairs - presents new beauties every moment. When its own striking +scenery is passed, and it trails on through a long line of suburb, lying +on the flat sea-shore, to Genoa, then, the changing glimpses of that +noble city and its harbour, awaken a new source of interest; freshened +by every huge, unwieldy, half-inhabited old house in its outskirts: +and coming to its climax when the city gate is reached, and all Genoa +with its beautiful harbour, and neighbouring hills, bursts proudly on +the view.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER V - TO PARMA, MODENA, AND BOLOGNA<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +I strolled away from Genoa on the 6th of November, bound for a good +many places (England among them), but first for Piacenza; for which +town I started in the <i>coupé</i> of a machine something like +a travelling caravan, in company with the brave Courier, and a lady +with a large dog, who howled dolefully, at intervals, all night. +It was very wet, and very cold; very dark, and very dismal; we travelled +at the rate of barely four miles an hour, and stopped nowhere for refreshment. +At ten o’clock next morning, we changed coaches at Alessandria, +where we were packed up in another coach (the body whereof would have +been small for a fly), in company with a very old priest; a young Jesuit, +his companion - who carried their breviaries and other books, and who, +in the exertion of getting into the coach, had made a gash of pink leg +between his black stocking and his black knee-shorts, that reminded +one of Hamlet in Ophelia’s closet, only it was visible on both +legs - a provincial Avvocáto; and a gentleman with a red nose +that had an uncommon and singular sheen upon it, which I never observed +in the human subject before. In this way we travelled on, until +four o’clock in the afternoon; the roads being still very heavy, +and the coach very slow. To mend the matter, the old priest was +troubled with cramps in his legs, so that he had to give a terrible +yell every ten minutes or so, and be hoisted out by the united efforts +of the company; the coach always stopping for him, with great gravity. +This disorder, and the roads, formed the main subject of conversation. +Finding, in the afternoon, that the <i>coupé</i> had discharged +two people, and had only one passenger inside - a monstrous ugly Tuscan, +with a great purple moustache, of which no man could see the ends when +he had his hat on - I took advantage of its better accommodation, and +in company with this gentleman (who was very conversational and good-humoured) +travelled on, until nearly eleven o’clock at night, when the driver +reported that he couldn’t think of going any farther, and we accordingly +made a halt at a place called Stradella.<br> +<br> +The inn was a series of strange galleries surrounding a yard where our +coach, and a waggon or two, and a lot of fowls, and firewood, were all +heaped up together, higgledy-piggledy; so that you didn’t know, +and couldn’t have taken your oath, which was a fowl and which +was a cart. We followed a sleepy man with a flaring torch, into +a great, cold room, where there were two immensely broad beds, on what +looked like two immensely broad deal dining-tables; another deal table +of similar dimensions in the middle of the bare floor; four windows; +and two chairs. Somebody said it was my room; and I walked up +and down it, for half an hour or so, staring at the Tuscan, the old +priest, the young priest, and the Avvocáto (Red-Nose lived in +the town, and had gone home), who sat upon their beds, and stared at +me in return.<br> +<br> +The rather dreary whimsicality of this stage of the proceedings, is +interrupted by an announcement from the Brave (he had been cooking) +that supper is ready; and to the priest’s chamber (the next room +and the counterpart of mine) we all adjourn. The first dish is +a cabbage, boiled with a great quantity of rice in a tureen full of +water, and flavoured with cheese. It is so hot, and we are so +cold, that it appears almost jolly. The second dish is some little +bits of pork, fried with pigs’ kidneys. The third, two red +fowls. The fourth, two little red turkeys. The fifth, a +huge stew of garlic and truffles, and I don’t know what else; +and this concludes the entertainment.<br> +<br> +Before I can sit down in my own chamber, and think it of the dampest, +the door opens, and the Brave comes moving in, in the middle of such +a quantity of fuel that he looks like Birnam Wood taking a winter walk. +He kindles this heap in a twinkling, and produces a jorum of hot brandy +and water; for that bottle of his keeps company with the seasons, and +now holds nothing but the purest <i>eau de vie</i>. When he has +accomplished this feat, he retires for the night; and I hear him, for +an hour afterwards, and indeed until I fall asleep, making jokes in +some outhouse (apparently under the pillow), where he is smoking cigars +with a party of confidential friends. He never was in the house +in his life before; but he knows everybody everywhere, before he has +been anywhere five minutes; and is certain to have attracted to himself, +in the meantime, the enthusiastic devotion of the whole establishment.<br> +<br> +This is at twelve o’clock at night. At four o’clock +next morning, he is up again, fresher than a full-blown rose; making +blazing fires without the least authority from the landlord; producing +mugs of scalding coffee when nobody else can get anything but cold water; +and going out into the dark streets, and roaring for fresh milk, on +the chance of somebody with a cow getting up to supply it. While +the horses are ‘coming,’ I stumble out into the town too. +It seems to be all one little Piazza, with a cold damp wind blowing +in and out of the arches, alternately, in a sort of pattern. But +it is profoundly dark, and raining heavily; and I shouldn’t know +it to-morrow, if I were taken there to try. Which Heaven forbid.<br> +<br> +The horses arrive in about an hour. In the interval, the driver +swears; sometimes Christian oaths, sometimes Pagan oaths. Sometimes, +when it is a long, compound oath, he begins with Christianity and merges +into Paganism. Various messengers are despatched; not so much +after the horses, as after each other; for the first messenger never +comes back, and all the rest imitate him. At length the horses +appear, surrounded by all the messengers; some kicking them, and some +dragging them, and all shouting abuse to them. Then, the old priest, +the young priest, the Avvocáto, the Tuscan, and all of us, take +our places; and sleepy voices proceeding from the doors of extraordinary +hutches in divers parts of the yard, cry out ‘Addio corrière +mio! Buon’ viággio, corrière!’ +Salutations which the courier, with his face one monstrous grin, returns +in like manner as we go jolting and wallowing away, through the mud.<br> +<br> +At Piacenza, which was four or five hours’ journey from the inn +at Stradella, we broke up our little company before the hotel door, +with divers manifestations of friendly feeling on all sides. The +old priest was taken with the cramp again, before he had got half-way +down the street; and the young priest laid the bundle of books on a +door-step, while he dutifully rubbed the old gentleman’s legs. +The client of the Avvocáto was waiting for him at the yard-gate, +and kissed him on each cheek, with such a resounding smack, that I am +afraid he had either a very bad case, or a scantily-furnished purse. +The Tuscan, with a cigar in his mouth, went loitering off, carrying +his hat in his hand that he might the better trail up the ends of his +dishevelled moustache. And the brave Courier, as he and I strolled +away to look about us, began immediately to entertain me with the private +histories and family affairs of the whole party.<br> +<br> +A brown, decayed, old town, Piacenza is. A deserted, solitary, +grass-grown place, with ruined ramparts; half filled-up trenches, which +afford a frowsy pasturage to the lean kine that wander about them; and +streets of stern houses, moodily frowning at the other houses over the +way. The sleepiest and shabbiest of soldiery go wandering about, +with the double curse of laziness and poverty, uncouthly wrinkling their +misfitting regimentals; the dirtiest of children play with their impromptu +toys (pigs and mud) in the feeblest of gutters; and the gauntest of +dogs trot in and out of the dullest of archways, in perpetual search +of something to eat, which they never seem to find. A mysterious +and solemn Palace, guarded by two colossal statues, twin Genii of the +place, stands gravely in the midst of the idle town; and the king with +the marble legs, who flourished in the time of the thousand and one +Nights, might live contentedly inside of it, and never have the energy, +in his upper half of flesh and blood, to want to come out.<br> +<br> +What a strange, half-sorrowful and half-delicious doze it is, to ramble +through these places gone to sleep and basking in the sun! Each, +in its turn, appears to be, of all the mouldy, dreary, God-forgotten +towns in the wide world, the chief. Sitting on this hillock where +a bastion used to be, and where a noisy fortress was, in the time of +the old Roman station here, I became aware that I have never known till +now, what it is to be lazy. A dormouse must surely be in very +much the same condition before he retires under the wool in his cage; +or a tortoise before he buries himself.<br> +<br> +I feel that I am getting rusty. That any attempt to think, would +be accompanied with a creaking noise. That there is nothing, anywhere, +to be done, or needing to be done. That there is no more human +progress, motion, effort, or advancement, of any kind beyond this. +That the whole scheme stopped here centuries ago, and laid down to rest +until the Day of Judgment.<br> +<br> +Never while the brave Courier lives! Behold him jingling out of +Piacenza, and staggering this way, in the tallest posting-chaise ever +seen, so that he looks out of the front window as if he were peeping +over a garden wall; while the postilion, concentrated essence of all +the shabbiness of Italy, pauses for a moment in his animated conversation, +to touch his hat to a blunt-nosed little Virgin, hardly less shabby +than himself, enshrined in a plaster Punch’s show outside the +town.<br> +<br> +In Genoa, and thereabouts, they train the vines on trellis-work, supported +on square clumsy pillars, which, in themselves, are anything but picturesque. +But, here, they twine them around trees, and let them trail among the +hedges; and the vineyards are full of trees, regularly planted for this +purpose, each with its own vine twining and clustering about it. +Their leaves are now of the brightest gold and deepest red; and never +was anything so enchantingly graceful and full of beauty. Through +miles of these delightful forms and colours, the road winds its way. +The wild festoons, the elegant wreaths, and crowns, and garlands of +all shapes; the fairy nets flung over great trees, and making them prisoners +in sport; the tumbled heaps and mounds of exquisite shapes upon the +ground; how rich and beautiful they are! And every now and then, +a long, long line of trees, will be all bound and garlanded together: +as if they had taken hold of one another, and were coming dancing down +the field!<br> +<br> +Parma has cheerful, stirring streets, for an Italian town; and consequently +is not so characteristic as many places of less note. Always excepting +the retired Piazza, where the Cathedral, Baptistery, and Campanile - +ancient buildings, of a sombre brown, embellished with innumerable grotesque +monsters and dreamy-looking creatures carved in marble and red stone +- are clustered in a noble and magnificent repose. Their silent +presence was only invaded, when I saw them, by the twittering of the +many birds that were flying in and out of the crevices in the stones +and little nooks in the architecture, where they had made their nests. +They were busy, rising from the cold shade of Temples made with hands, +into the sunny air of Heaven. Not so the worshippers within, who +were listening to the same drowsy chaunt, or kneeling before the same +kinds of images and tapers, or whispering, with their heads bowed down, +in the selfsame dark confessionals, as I had left in Genoa and everywhere +else.<br> +<br> +The decayed and mutilated paintings with which this church is covered, +have, to my thinking, a remarkably mournful and depressing influence. +It is miserable to see great works of art - something of the Souls of +Painters - perishing and fading away, like human forms. This cathedral +is odorous with the rotting of Correggio’s frescoes in the Cupola. +Heaven knows how beautiful they may have been at one time. Connoisseurs +fall into raptures with them now; but such a labyrinth of arms and legs: +such heaps of foreshortened limbs, entangled and involved and jumbled +together: no operative surgeon, gone mad, could imagine in his wildest +delirium.<br> +<br> +There is a very interesting subterranean church here: the roof supported +by marble pillars, behind each of which there seemed to be at least +one beggar in ambush: to say nothing of the tombs and secluded altars. +From every one of these lurking-places, such crowds of phantom-looking +men and women, leading other men and women with twisted limbs, or chattering +jaws, or paralytic gestures, or idiotic heads, or some other sad infirmity, +came hobbling out to beg, that if the ruined frescoes in the cathedral +above, had been suddenly animated, and had retired to this lower church, +they could hardly have made a greater confusion, or exhibited a more +confounding display of arms and legs.<br> +<br> +There is Petrarch’s Monument, too; and there is the Baptistery, +with its beautiful arches and immense font; and there is a gallery containing +some very remarkable pictures, whereof a few were being copied by hairy-faced +artists, with little velvet caps more off their heads than on. +There is the Farnese Palace, too; and in it one of the dreariest spectacles +of decay that ever was seen - a grand, old, gloomy theatre, mouldering +away.<br> +<br> +It is a large wooden structure, of the horse-shoe shape; the lower seats +arranged upon the Roman plan, but above them, great heavy chambers; +rather than boxes, where the Nobles sat, remote in their proud state. +Such desolation as has fallen on this theatre, enhanced in the spectator’s +fancy by its gay intention and design, none but worms can be familiar +with. A hundred and ten years have passed, since any play was +acted here. The sky shines in through the gashes in the roof; +the boxes are dropping down, wasting away, and only tenanted by rats; +damp and mildew smear the faded colours, and make spectral maps upon +the panels; lean rags are dangling down where there were gay festoons +on the Proscenium; the stage has rotted so, that a narrow wooden gallery +is thrown across it, or it would sink beneath the tread, and bury the +visitor in the gloomy depth beneath. The desolation and decay +impress themselves on all the senses. The air has a mouldering +smell, and an earthy taste; any stray outer sounds that straggle in +with some lost sunbeam, are muffled and heavy; and the worm, the maggot, +and the rot have changed the surface of the wood beneath the touch, +as time will seam and roughen a smooth hand. If ever Ghosts act +plays, they act them on this ghostly stage.<br> +<br> +It was most delicious weather, when we came into Modena, where the darkness +of the sombre colonnades over the footways skirting the main street +on either side, was made refreshing and agreeable by the bright sky, +so wonderfully blue. I passed from all the glory of the day, into +a dim cathedral, where High Mass was performing, feeble tapers were +burning, people were kneeling in all directions before all manner of +shrines, and officiating priests were crooning the usual chant, in the +usual, low, dull, drawling, melancholy tone.<br> +<br> +Thinking how strange it was, to find, in every stagnant town, this same +Heart beating with the same monotonous pulsation, the centre of the +same torpid, listless system, I came out by another door, and was suddenly +scared to death by a blast from the shrillest trumpet that ever was +blown. Immediately, came tearing round the corner, an equestrian +company from Paris: marshalling themselves under the walls of the church, +and flouting, with their horses’ heels, the griffins, lions, tigers, +and other monsters in stone and marble, decorating its exterior. +First, there came a stately nobleman with a great deal of hair, and +no hat, bearing an enormous banner, on which was inscribed, MAZEPPA! +TO-NIGHT! Then, a Mexican chief, with a great pear-shaped club +on his shoulder, like Hercules. Then, six or eight Roman chariots: +each with a beautiful lady in extremely short petticoats, and unnaturally +pink tights, erect within: shedding beaming looks upon the crowd, in +which there was a latent expression of discomposure and anxiety, for +which I couldn’t account, until, as the open back of each chariot +presented itself, I saw the immense difficulty with which the pink legs +maintained their perpendicular, over the uneven pavement of the town: +which gave me quite a new idea of the ancient Romans and Britons. +The procession was brought to a close, by some dozen indomitable warriors +of different nations, riding two and two, and haughtily surveying the +tame population of Modena: among whom, however, they occasionally condescended +to scatter largesse in the form of a few handbills. After caracolling +among the lions and tigers, and proclaiming that evening’s entertainments +with blast of trumpet, it then filed off, by the other end of the square, +and left a new and greatly increased dulness behind.<br> +<br> +When the procession had so entirely passed away, that the shrill trumpet +was mild in the distance, and the tail of the last horse was hopelessly +round the corner, the people who had come out of the church to stare +at it, went back again. But one old lady, kneeling on the pavement +within, near the door, had seen it all, and had been immensely interested, +without getting up; and this old lady’s eye, at that juncture, +I happened to catch: to our mutual confusion. She cut our embarrassment +very short, however, by crossing herself devoutly, and going down, at +full length, on her face, before a figure in a fancy petticoat and a +gilt crown; which was so like one of the procession-figures, that perhaps +at this hour she may think the whole appearance a celestial vision. +Anyhow, I must certainly have forgiven her her interest in the Circus, +though I had been her Father Confessor.<br> +<br> +There was a little fiery-eyed old man with a crooked shoulder, in the +cathedral, who took it very ill that I made no effort to see the bucket +(kept in an old tower) which the people of Modena took away from the +people of Bologna in the fourteenth century, and about which there was +war made and a mock-heroic poem by TASSONE, too. Being quite content, +however, to look at the outside of the tower, and feast, in imagination, +on the bucket within; and preferring to loiter in the shade of the tall +Campanile, and about the cathedral; I have no personal knowledge of +this bucket, even at the present time.<br> +<br> +Indeed, we were at Bologna, before the little old man (or the Guide-Book) +would have considered that we had half done justice to the wonders of +Modena. But it is such a delight to me to leave new scenes behind, +and still go on, encountering newer scenes - and, moreover, I have such +a perverse disposition in respect of sights that are cut, and dried, +and dictated - that I fear I sin against similar authorities in every +place I visit.<br> +<br> +Be this as it may, in the pleasant Cemetery at Bologna, I found myself +walking next Sunday morning, among the stately marble tombs and colonnades, +in company with a crowd of Peasants, and escorted by a little Cicerone +of that town, who was excessively anxious for the honour of the place, +and most solicitous to divert my attention from the bad monuments: whereas +he was never tired of extolling the good ones. Seeing this little +man (a good-humoured little man he was, who seemed to have nothing in +his face but shining teeth and eyes) looking wistfully at a certain +plot of grass, I asked him who was buried there. ‘The poor +people, Signore,’ he said, with a shrug and a smile, and stopping +to look back at me - for he always went on a little before, and took +off his hat to introduce every new monument. ‘Only the poor, +Signore! It’s very cheerful. It’s very lively. +How green it is, how cool! It’s like a meadow! There +are five,’ - holding up all the fingers of his right hand to express +the number, which an Italian peasant will always do, if it be within +the compass of his ten fingers, - ‘there are five of my little +children buried there, Signore; just there; a little to the right. +Well! Thanks to God! It’s very cheerful. How +green it is, how cool it is! It’s quite a meadow!’<br> +<br> +He looked me very hard in the face, and seeing I was sorry for him, +took a pinch of snuff (every Cicerone takes snuff), and made a little +bow; partly in deprecation of his having alluded to such a subject, +and partly in memory of the children and of his favourite saint. +It was as unaffected and as perfectly natural a little bow, as ever +man made. Immediately afterwards, he took his hat off altogether, +and begged to introduce me to the next monument; and his eyes and his +teeth shone brighter than before.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER VI - THROUGH BOLOGNA AND FERRARA<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +There was such a very smart official in attendance at the Cemetery where +the little Cicerone had buried his children, that when the little Cicerone +suggested to me, in a whisper, that there would be no offence in presenting +this officer, in return for some slight extra service, with a couple +of pauls (about tenpence, English money), I looked incredulously at +his cocked hat, wash-leather gloves, well-made uniform, and dazzling +buttons, and rebuked the little Cicerone with a grave shake of the head. +For, in splendour of appearance, he was at least equal to the Deputy +Usher of the Black Rod; and the idea of his carrying, as Jeremy Diddler +would say, ‘such a thing as tenpence’ away with him, seemed +monstrous. He took it in excellent part, however, when I made +bold to give it him, and pulled off his cocked hat with a flourish that +would have been a bargain at double the money.<br> +<br> +It seemed to be his duty to describe the monuments to the people - at +all events he was doing so; and when I compared him, like Gulliver in +Brobdingnag, ‘with the Institutions of my own beloved country, +I could not refrain from tears of pride and exultation.’ +He had no pace at all; no more than a tortoise. He loitered as +the people loitered, that they might gratify their curiosity; and positively +allowed them, now and then, to read the inscriptions on the tombs. +He was neither shabby, nor insolent, nor churlish, nor ignorant. +He spoke his own language with perfect propriety, and seemed to consider +himself, in his way, a kind of teacher of the people, and to entertain +a just respect both for himself and them. They would no more have +such a man for a Verger in Westminster Abbey, than they would let the +people in (as they do at Bologna) to see the monuments for nothing. +<a name="citation2"></a><a href="#footnote2">{2}</a><br> +<br> +Again, an ancient sombre town, under the brilliant sky; with heavy arcades +over the footways of the older streets, and lighter and more cheerful +archways in the newer portions of the town. Again, brown piles +of sacred buildings, with more birds flying in and out of chinks in +the stones; and more snarling monsters for the bases of the pillars. +Again, rich churches, drowsy Masses, curling incense, tinkling bells, +priests in bright vestments: pictures, tapers, laced altar cloths, crosses, +images, and artificial flowers.<br> +<br> +There is a grave and learned air about the city, and a pleasant gloom +upon it, that would leave it, a distinct and separate impression in +the mind, among a crowd of cities, though it were not still further +marked in the traveller’s remembrance by the two brick leaning +towers (sufficiently unsightly in themselves, it must be acknowledged), +inclining cross-wise as if they were bowing stiffly to each other - +a most extraordinary termination to the perspective of some of the narrow +streets. The colleges, and churches too, and palaces: and above +all the academy of Fine Arts, where there are a host of interesting +pictures, especially by GUIDO, DOMENICHINO, and LUDOVICO CARACCI: give +it a place of its own in the memory. Even though these were not, +and there were nothing else to remember it by, the great Meridian on +the pavement of the church of San Petronio, where the sunbeams mark +the time among the kneeling people, would give it a fanciful and pleasant +interest.<br> +<br> +Bologna being very full of tourists, detained there by an inundation +which rendered the road to Florence impassable, I was quartered up at +the top of an hotel, in an out-of-the-way room which I never could find: +containing a bed, big enough for a boarding-school, which I couldn’t +fall asleep in. The chief among the waiters who visited this lonely +retreat, where there was no other company but the swallows in the broad +eaves over the window, was a man of one idea in connection with the +English; and the subject of this harmless monomania, was Lord Byron. +I made the discovery by accidentally remarking to him, at breakfast, +that the matting with which the floor was covered, was very comfortable +at that season, when he immediately replied that Milor Beeron had been +much attached to that kind of matting. Observing, at the same +moment, that I took no milk, he exclaimed with enthusiasm, that Milor +Beeron had never touched it. At first, I took it for granted, +in my innocence, that he had been one of the Beeron servants; but no, +he said, no, he was in the habit of speaking about my Lord, to English +gentlemen; that was all. He knew all about him, he said. +In proof of it, he connected him with every possible topic, from the +Monte Pulciano wine at dinner (which was grown on an estate he had owned), +to the big bed itself, which was the very model of his. When I +left the inn, he coupled with his final bow in the yard, a parting assurance +that the road by which I was going, had been Milor Beeron’s favourite +ride; and before the horse’s feet had well begun to clatter on +the pavement, he ran briskly up-stairs again, I dare say to tell some +other Englishman in some other solitary room that the guest who had +just departed was Lord Beeron’s living image.<br> +<br> +I had entered Bologna by night - almost midnight - and all along the +road thither, after our entrance into the Papal territory: which is +not, in any part, supremely well governed, Saint Peter’s keys +being rather rusty now; the driver had so worried about the danger of +robbers in travelling after dark, and had so infected the brave Courier, +and the two had been so constantly stopping and getting up and down +to look after a portmanteau which was tied on behind, that I should +have felt almost obliged to any one who would have had the goodness +to take it away. Hence it was stipulated, that, whenever we left +Bologna, we should start so as not to arrive at Ferrara later than eight +at night; and a delightful afternoon and evening journey it was, albeit +through a flat district which gradually became more marshy from the +overflow of brooks and rivers in the recent heavy rains.<br> +<br> +At sunset, when I was walking on alone, while the horses rested, I arrived +upon a little scene, which, by one of those singular mental operations +of which we are all conscious, seemed perfectly familiar to me, and +which I see distinctly now. There was not much in it. In +the blood red light, there was a mournful sheet of water, just stirred +by the evening wind; upon its margin a few trees. In the foreground +was a group of silent peasant girls leaning over the parapet of a little +bridge, and looking, now up at the sky, now down into the water; in +the distance, a deep bell; the shade of approaching night on everything. +If I had been murdered there, in some former life, I could not have +seemed to remember the place more thoroughly, or with a more emphatic +chilling of the blood; and the mere remembrance of it acquired in that +minute, is so strengthened by the imaginary recollection, that I hardly +think I could forget it.<br> +<br> +More solitary, more depopulated, more deserted, old Ferrara, than any +city of the solemn brotherhood! The grass so grows up in the silent +streets, that any one might make hay there, literally, while the sun +shines. But the sun shines with diminished cheerfulness in grim +Ferrara; and the people are so few who pass and re-pass through the +places, that the flesh of its inhabitants might be grass indeed, and +growing in the squares.<br> +<br> +I wonder why the head coppersmith in an Italian town, always lives next +door to the Hotel, or opposite: making the visitor feel as if the beating +hammers were his own heart, palpitating with a deadly energy! +I wonder why jealous corridors surround the bedroom on all sides, and +fill it with unnecessary doors that can’t be shut, and will not +open, and abut on pitchy darkness! I wonder why it is not enough +that these distrustful genii stand agape at one’s dreams all night, +but there must also be round open portholes, high in the wall, suggestive, +when a mouse or rat is heard behind the wainscot, of a somebody scraping +the wall with his toes, in his endeavours to reach one of these portholes +and look in! I wonder why the faggots are so constructed, as to +know of no effect but an agony of heat when they are lighted and replenished, +and an agony of cold and suffocation at all other times! I wonder, +above all, why it is the great feature of domestic architecture in Italian +inns, that all the fire goes up the chimney, except the smoke!<br> +<br> +The answer matters little. Coppersmiths, doors, portholes, smoke, +and faggots, are welcome to me. Give me the smiling face of the +attendant, man or woman; the courteous manner; the amiable desire to +please and to be pleased; the light-hearted, pleasant, simple air - +so many jewels set in dirt - and I am theirs again to-morrow!<br> +<br> +ARIOSTO’S house, TASSO’S prison, a rare old Gothic cathedral, +and more churches of course, are the sights of Ferrara. But the +long silent streets, and the dismantled palaces, where ivy waves in +lieu of banners, and where rank weeds are slowly creeping up the long-untrodden +stairs, are the best sights of all.<br> +<br> +The aspect of this dreary town, half an hour before sunrise one fine +morning, when I left it, was as picturesque as it seemed unreal and +spectral. It was no matter that the people were not yet out of +bed; for if they had all been up and busy, they would have made but +little difference in that desert of a place. It was best to see +it, without a single figure in the picture; a city of the dead, without +one solitary survivor. Pestilence might have ravaged streets, +squares, and market-places; and sack and siege have ruined the old houses, +battered down their doors and windows, and made breaches in their roofs. +In one part, a great tower rose into the air; the only landmark in the +melancholy view. In another, a prodigious castle, with a moat +about it, stood aloof: a sullen city in itself. In the black dungeons +of this castle, Parisina and her lover were beheaded in the dead of +night. The red light, beginning to shine when I looked back upon +it, stained its walls without, as they have, many a time, been stained +within, in old days; but for any sign of life they gave, the castle +and the city might have been avoided by all human creatures, from the +moment when the axe went down upon the last of the two lovers: and might +have never vibrated to another sound<br> +<br> +<br> +Beyond the blow that to the block<br> +Pierced through with forced and sullen shock.<br> +<br> +<br> +Coming to the Po, which was greatly swollen, and running fiercely, we +crossed it by a floating bridge of boats, and so came into the Austrian +territory, and resumed our journey: through a country of which, for +some miles, a great part was under water. The brave Courier and +the soldiery had first quarrelled, for half an hour or more, over our +eternal passport. But this was a daily relaxation with the Brave, +who was always stricken deaf when shabby functionaries in uniform came, +as they constantly did come, plunging out of wooden boxes to look at +it - or in other words to beg - and who, stone deaf to my entreaties +that the man might have a trifle given him, and we resume our journey +in peace, was wont to sit reviling the functionary in broken English: +while the unfortunate man’s face was a portrait of mental agony +framed in the coach window, from his perfect ignorance of what was being +said to his disparagement.<br> +<br> +There was a postilion, in the course of this day’s journey, as +wild and savagely good-looking a vagabond as you would desire to see. +He was a tall, stout-made, dark-complexioned fellow, with a profusion +of shaggy black hair hanging all over his face, and great black whiskers +stretching down his throat. His dress was a torn suit of rifle +green, garnished here and there with red; a steeple-crowned hat, innocent +of nap, with a broken and bedraggled feather stuck in the band; and +a flaming red neckerchief hanging on his shoulders. He was not +in the saddle, but reposed, quite at his ease, on a sort of low foot-board +in front of the postchaise, down amongst the horses’ tails - convenient +for having his brains kicked out, at any moment. To this Brigand, +the brave Courier, when we were at a reasonable trot, happened to suggest +the practicability of going faster. He received the proposal with +a perfect yell of derision; brandished his whip about his head (such +a whip! it was more like a home-made bow); flung up his heels, much +higher than the horses; and disappeared, in a paroxysm, somewhere in +the neighbourhood of the axle-tree. I fully expected to see him +lying in the road, a hundred yards behind, but up came the steeple-crowned +hat again, next minute, and he was seen reposing, as on a sofa, entertaining +himself with the idea, and crying, ‘Ha, ha! what next! Oh +the devil! Faster too! Shoo - hoo - o - o!’ +(This last ejaculation, an inexpressibly defiant hoot.) Being +anxious to reach our immediate destination that night, I ventured, by-and-by, +to repeat the experiment on my own account. It produced exactly +the same effect. Round flew the whip with the same scornful flourish, +up came the heels, down went the steeple-crowned hat, and presently +he reappeared, reposing as before and saying to himself, ‘Ha ha! +what next! Faster too! Oh the devil! Shoo - hoo - +o - o!’<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER VII - AN ITALIAN DREAM<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +I had been travelling, for some days; resting very little in the night, +and never in the day. The rapid and unbroken succession of novelties +that had passed before me, came back like half-formed dreams; and a +crowd of objects wandered in the greatest confusion through my mind, +as I travelled on, by a solitary road. At intervals, some one +among them would stop, as it were, in its restless flitting to and fro, +and enable me to look at it, quite steadily, and behold it in full distinctness. +After a few moments, it would dissolve, like a view in a magic-lantern; +and while I saw some part of it quite plainly, and some faintly, and +some not at all, would show me another of the many places I had lately +seen, lingering behind it, and coming through it. This was no +sooner visible than, in its turn, it melted into something else.<br> +<br> +At one moment, I was standing again, before the brown old rugged churches +of Modena. As I recognised the curious pillars with grim monsters +for their bases, I seemed to see them, standing by themselves in the +quiet square at Padua, where there were the staid old University, and +the figures, demurely gowned, grouped here and there in the open space +about it. Then, I was strolling in the outskirts of that pleasant +city, admiring the unusual neatness of the dwelling-houses, gardens, +and orchards, as I had seen them a few hours before. In their +stead arose, immediately, the two towers of Bologna; and the most obstinate +of all these objects, failed to hold its ground, a minute, before the +monstrous moated castle of Ferrara, which, like an illustration to a +wild romance, came back again in the red sunrise, lording it over the +solitary, grass-grown, withered town. In short, I had that incoherent +but delightful jumble in my brain, which travellers are apt to have, +and are indolently willing to encourage. Every shake of the coach +in which I sat, half dozing in the dark, appeared to jerk some new recollection +out of its place, and to jerk some other new recollection into it; and +in this state I fell asleep.<br> +<br> +I was awakened after some time (as I thought) by the stopping of the +coach. It was now quite night, and we were at the waterside. +There lay here, a black boat, with a little house or cabin in it of +the same mournful colour. When I had taken my seat in this, the +boat was paddled, by two men, towards a great light, lying in the distance +on the sea.<br> +<br> +Ever and again, there was a dismal sigh of wind. It ruffled the +water, and rocked the boat, and sent the dark clouds flying before the +stars. I could not but think how strange it was, to be floating +away at that hour: leaving the land behind, and going on, towards this +light upon the sea. It soon began to burn brighter; and from being +one light became a cluster of tapers, twinkling and shining out of the +water, as the boat approached towards them by a dreamy kind of track, +marked out upon the sea by posts and piles.<br> +<br> +We had floated on, five miles or so, over the dark water, when I heard +it rippling in my dream, against some obstruction near at hand. +Looking out attentively, I saw, through the gloom, a something black +and massive - like a shore, but lying close and flat upon the water, +like a raft - which we were gliding past. The chief of the two +rowers said it was a burial-place.<br> +<br> +Full of the interest and wonder which a cemetery lying out there, in +the lonely sea, inspired, I turned to gaze upon it as it should recede +in our path, when it was quickly shut out from my view. Before +I knew by what, or how, I found that we were gliding up a street - a +phantom street; the houses rising on both sides, from the water, and +the black boat gliding on beneath their windows. Lights were shining +from some of these casements, plumbing the depth of the black stream +with their reflected rays, but all was profoundly silent.<br> +<br> +So we advanced into this ghostly city, continuing to hold our course +through narrow streets and lanes, all filled and flowing with water. +Some of the corners where our way branched off, were so acute and narrow, +that it seemed impossible for the long slender boat to turn them; but +the rowers, with a low melodious cry of warning, sent it skimming on +without a pause. Sometimes, the rowers of another black boat like +our own, echoed the cry, and slackening their speed (as I thought we +did ours) would come flitting past us like a dark shadow. Other +boats, of the same sombre hue, were lying moored, I thought, to painted +pillars, near to dark mysterious doors that opened straight upon the +water. Some of these were empty; in some, the rowers lay asleep; +towards one, I saw some figures coming down a gloomy archway from the +interior of a palace: gaily dressed, and attended by torch-bearers. +It was but a glimpse I had of them; for a bridge, so low and close upon +the boat that it seemed ready to fall down and crush us: one of the +many bridges that perplexed the Dream: blotted them out, instantly. +On we went, floating towards the heart of this strange place - with +water all about us where never water was elsewhere - clusters of houses, +churches, heaps of stately buildings growing out of it - and, everywhere, +the same extraordinary silence. Presently, we shot across a broad +and open stream; and passing, as I thought, before a spacious paved +quay, where the bright lamps with which it was illuminated showed long +rows of arches and pillars, of ponderous construction and great strength, +but as light to the eye as garlands of hoarfrost or gossamer - and where, +for the first time, I saw people walking - arrived at a flight of steps +leading from the water to a large mansion, where, having passed through +corridors and galleries innumerable, I lay down to rest; listening to +the black boats stealing up and down below the window on the rippling +water, till I fell asleep.<br> +<br> +The glory of the day that broke upon me in this Dream; its freshness, +motion, buoyancy; its sparkles of the sun in water; its clear blue sky +and rustling air; no waking words can tell. But, from my window, +I looked down on boats and barks; on masts, sails, cordage, flags; on +groups of busy sailors, working at the cargoes of these vessels; on +wide quays, strewn with bales, casks, merchandise of many kinds; on +great ships, lying near at hand in stately indolence; on islands, crowned +with gorgeous domes and turrets: and where golden crosses glittered +in the light, atop of wondrous churches, springing from the sea! +Going down upon the margin of the green sea, rolling on before the door, +and filling all the streets, I came upon a place of such surpassing +beauty, and such grandeur, that all the rest was poor and faded, in +comparison with its absorbing loveliness.<br> +<br> +It was a great Piazza, as I thought; anchored, like all the rest, in +the deep ocean. On its broad bosom, was a Palace, more majestic +and magnificent in its old age, than all the buildings of the earth, +in the high prime and fulness of their youth. Cloisters and galleries: +so light, they might have been the work of fairy hands: so strong that +centuries had battered them in vain: wound round and round this palace, +and enfolded it with a Cathedral, gorgeous in the wild luxuriant fancies +of the East. At no great distance from its porch, a lofty tower, +standing by itself, and rearing its proud head, alone, into the sky, +looked out upon the Adriatic Sea. Near to the margin of the stream, +were two ill-omened pillars of red granite; one having on its top, a +figure with a sword and shield; the other, a winged lion. Not +far from these again, a second tower: richest of the rich in all its +decorations: even here, where all was rich: sustained aloft, a great +orb, gleaming with gold and deepest blue: the Twelve Signs painted on +it, and a mimic sun revolving in its course around them: while above, +two bronze giants hammered out the hours upon a sounding bell. +An oblong square of lofty houses of the whitest stone, surrounded by +a light and beautiful arcade, formed part of this enchanted scene; and, +here and there, gay masts for flags rose, tapering, from the pavement +of the unsubstantial ground.<br> +<br> +I thought I entered the Cathedral, and went in and out among its many +arches: traversing its whole extent. A grand and dreamy structure, +of immense proportions; golden with old mosaics; redolent of perfumes; +dim with the smoke of incense; costly in treasure of precious stones +and metals, glittering through iron bars; holy with the bodies of deceased +saints; rainbow-hued with windows of stained glass; dark with carved +woods and coloured marbles; obscure in its vast heights, and lengthened +distances; shining with silver lamps and winking lights; unreal, fantastic, +solemn, inconceivable throughout. I thought I entered the old +palace; pacing silent galleries and council-chambers, where the old +rulers of this mistress of the waters looked sternly out, in pictures, +from the walls, and where her high-prowed galleys, still victorious +on canvas, fought and conquered as of old. I thought I wandered +through its halls of state and triumph - bare and empty now! - and musing +on its pride and might, extinct: for that was past; all past: heard +a voice say, ‘Some tokens of its ancient rule and some consoling +reasons for its downfall, may be traced here, yet!’<br> +<br> +I dreamed that I was led on, then, into some jealous rooms, communicating +with a prison near the palace; separated from it by a lofty bridge crossing +a narrow street; and called, I dreamed, The Bridge of Sighs.<br> +<br> +But first I passed two jagged slits in a stone wall; the lions’ +mouths - now toothless - where, in the distempered horror of my sleep, +I thought denunciations of innocent men to the old wicked Council, had +been dropped through, many a time, when the night was dark. So, +when I saw the council-room to which such prisoners were taken for examination, +and the door by which they passed out, when they were condemned - a +door that never closed upon a man with life and hope before him - my +heart appeared to die within me.<br> +<br> +It was smitten harder though, when, torch in hand, I descended from +the cheerful day into two ranges, one below another, of dismal, awful, +horrible stone cells. They were quite dark. Each had a loop-hole +in its massive wall, where, in the old time, every day, a torch was +placed - I dreamed - to light the prisoner within, for half an hour. +The captives, by the glimmering of these brief rays, had scratched and +cut inscriptions in the blackened vaults. I saw them. For +their labour with a rusty nail’s point, had outlived their agony +and them, through many generations.<br> +<br> +One cell, I saw, in which no man remained for more than four-and-twenty +hours; being marked for dead before he entered it. Hard by, another, +and a dismal one, whereto, at midnight, the confessor came - a monk +brown-robed, and hooded - ghastly in the day, and free bright air, but +in the midnight of that murky prison, Hope’s extinguisher, and +Murder’s herald. I had my foot upon the spot, where, at +the same dread hour, the shriven prisoner was strangled; and struck +my hand upon the guilty door - low-browed and stealthy - through which +the lumpish sack was carried out into a boat, and rowed away, and drowned +where it was death to cast a net.<br> +<br> +Around this dungeon stronghold, and above some part of it: licking the +rough walls without, and smearing them with damp and slime within: stuffing +dank weeds and refuse into chinks and crevices, as if the very stones +and bars had mouths to stop: furnishing a smooth road for the removal +of the bodies of the secret victims of the State - a road so ready that +it went along with them, and ran before them, like a cruel officer - +flowed the same water that filled this Dream of mine, and made it seem +one, even at the time.<br> +<br> +Descending from the palace by a staircase, called, I thought, the Giant’s +- I had some imaginary recollection of an old man abdicating, coming, +more slowly and more feebly, down it, when he heard the bell, proclaiming +his successor - I glided off, in one of the dark boats, until we came +to an old arsenal guarded by four marble lions. To make my Dream +more monstrous and unlikely, one of these had words and sentences upon +its body, inscribed there, at an unknown time, and in an unknown language; +so that their purport was a mystery to all men.<br> +<br> +There was little sound of hammers in this place for building ships, +and little work in progress; for the greatness of the city was no more, +as I have said. Indeed, it seemed a very wreck found drifting +on the sea; a strange flag hoisted in its honourable stations, and strangers +standing at its helm. A splendid barge in which its ancient chief +had gone forth, pompously, at certain periods, to wed the ocean, lay +here, I thought, no more; but, in its place, there was a tiny model, +made from recollection like the city’s greatness; and it told +of what had been (so are the strong and weak confounded in the dust) +almost as eloquently as the massive pillars, arches, roofs, reared to +overshadow stately ships that had no other shadow now, upon the water +or the earth.<br> +<br> +An armoury was there yet. Plundered and despoiled; but an armoury. +With a fierce standard taken from the Turks, drooping in the dull air +of its cage. Rich suits of mail worn by great warriors were hoarded +there; crossbows and bolts; quivers full of arrows; spears; swords, +daggers, maces, shields, and heavy-headed axes. Plates of wrought +steel and iron, to make the gallant horse a monster cased in metal scales; +and one spring-weapon (easy to be carried in the breast) designed to +do its office noiselessly, and made for shooting men with poisoned darts.<br> +<br> +One press or case I saw, full of accursed instruments of torture horribly +contrived to cramp, and pinch, and grind and crush men’s bones, +and tear and twist them with the torment of a thousand deaths. +Before it, were two iron helmets, with breast-pieces: made to close +up tight and smooth upon the heads of living sufferers; and fastened +on to each, was a small knob or anvil, where the directing devil could +repose his elbow at his ease, and listen, near the walled-up ear, to +the lamentations and confessions of the wretch within. There was +that grim resemblance in them to the human shape - they were such moulds +of sweating faces, pained and cramped - that it was difficult to think +them empty; and terrible distortions lingering within them, seemed to +follow me, when, taking to my boat again, I rowed off to a kind of garden +or public walk in the sea, where there were grass and trees. But +I forgot them when I stood upon its farthest brink - I stood there, +in my dream - and looked, along the ripple, to the setting sun; before +me, in the sky and on the deep, a crimson flush; and behind me the whole +city resolving into streaks of red and purple, on the water.<br> +<br> +In the luxurious wonder of so rare a dream, I took but little heed of +time, and had but little understanding of its flight. But there +were days and nights in it; and when the sun was high, and when the +rays of lamps were crooked in the running water, I was still afloat, +I thought: plashing the slippery walls and houses with the cleavings +of the tide, as my black boat, borne upon it, skimmed along the streets.<br> +<br> +Sometimes, alighting at the doors of churches and vast palaces, I wandered +on, from room to room, from aisle to aisle, through labyrinths of rich +altars, ancient monuments; decayed apartments where the furniture, half +awful, half grotesque, was mouldering away. Pictures were there, +replete with such enduring beauty and expression: with such passion, +truth and power: that they seemed so many young and fresh realities +among a host of spectres. I thought these, often intermingled +with the old days of the city: with its beauties, tyrants, captains, +patriots, merchants, counters, priests: nay, with its very stones, and +bricks, and public places; all of which lived again, about me, on the +walls. Then, coming down some marble staircase where the water +lapped and oozed against the lower steps, I passed into my boat again, +and went on in my dream.<br> +<br> +Floating down narrow lanes, where carpenters, at work with plane and +chisel in their shops, tossed the light shaving straight upon the water, +where it lay like weed, or ebbed away before me in a tangled heap. +Past open doors, decayed and rotten from long steeping in the wet, through +which some scanty patch of vine shone green and bright, making unusual +shadows on the pavement with its trembling leaves. Past quays +and terraces, where women, gracefully veiled, were passing and repassing, +and where idlers were reclining in the sunshine, on flag-stones and +on flights of steps. Past bridges, where there were idlers too; +loitering and looking over. Below stone balconies, erected at +a giddy height, before the loftiest windows of the loftiest houses. +Past plots of garden, theatres, shrines, prodigious piles of architecture +- Gothic - Saracenic - fanciful with all the fancies of all times and +countries. Past buildings that were high, and low, and black, +and white, and straight, and crooked; mean and grand, crazy and strong. +Twining among a tangled lot of boats and barges, and shooting out at +last into a Grand Canal! There, in the errant fancy of my dream, +I saw old Shylock passing to and fro upon a bridge, all built upon with +shops and humming with the tongues of men; a form I seemed to know for +Desdemona’s, leaned down through a latticed blind to pluck a flower. +And, in the dream, I thought that Shakespeare’s spirit was abroad +upon the water somewhere: stealing through the city.<br> +<br> +At night, when two votive lamps burnt before an image of the Virgin, +in a gallery outside the great cathedral, near the roof, I fancied that +the great piazza of the Winged Lion was a blaze of cheerful light, and +that its whole arcade was thronged with people; while crowds were diverting +themselves in splendid coffee-houses opening from it - which were never +shut, I thought, but open all night long. When the bronze giants +struck the hour of midnight on the bell, I thought the life and animation +of the city were all centred here; and as I rowed away, abreast the +silent quays, I only saw them dotted, here and there, with sleeping +boatmen wrapped up in their cloaks, and lying at full length upon the +stones.<br> +<br> +But close about the quays and churches, palaces and prisons sucking +at their walls, and welling up into the secret places of the town: crept +the water always. Noiseless and watchful: coiled round and round +it, in its many folds, like an old serpent: waiting for the time, I +thought, when people should look down into its depths for any stone +of the old city that had claimed to be its mistress.<br> +<br> +Thus it floated me away, until I awoke in the old market-place at Verona. +I have, many and many a time, thought since, of this strange Dream upon +the water: half-wondering if it lie there yet, and if its name be VENICE.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER VIII - BY VERONA, MANTUA, AND MILAN, ACROSS THE PASS OF THE +SIMPLON INTO SWITZERLAND<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +I had been half afraid to go to Verona, lest it should at all put me +out of conceit with Romeo and Juliet. But, I was no sooner come +into the old market-place, than the misgiving vanished. It is +so fanciful, quaint, and picturesque a place, formed by such an extraordinary +and rich variety of fantastic buildings, that there could be nothing +better at the core of even this romantic town: scene of one of the most +romantic and beautiful of stories.<br> +<br> +It was natural enough, to go straight from the Market-place, to the +House of the Capulets, now degenerated into a most miserable little +inn. Noisy vetturíni and muddy market-carts were disputing +possession of the yard, which was ankle-deep in dirt, with a brood of +splashed and bespattered geese; and there was a grim-visaged dog, viciously +panting in a doorway, who would certainly have had Romeo by the leg, +the moment he put it over the wall, if he had existed and been at large +in those times. The orchard fell into other hands, and was parted +off many years ago; but there used to be one attached to the house - +or at all events there may have, been, - and the hat (Cappêllo) +the ancient cognizance of the family, may still be seen, carved in stone, +over the gateway of the yard. The geese, the market-carts, their +drivers, and the dog, were somewhat in the way of the story, it must +be confessed; and it would have been pleasanter to have found the house +empty, and to have been able to walk through the disused rooms. +But the hat was unspeakably comfortable; and the place where the garden +used to be, hardly less so. Besides, the house is a distrustful, +jealous-looking house as one would desire to see, though of a very moderate +size. So I was quite satisfied with it, as the veritable mansion +of old Capulet, and was correspondingly grateful in my acknowledgments +to an extremely unsentimental middle-aged lady, the Padrona of the Hotel, +who was lounging on the threshold looking at the geese; and who at least +resembled the Capulets in the one particular of being very great indeed +in the ‘Family’ way.<br> +<br> +From Juliet’s home, to Juliet’s tomb, is a transition as +natural to the visitor, as to fair Juliet herself, or to the proudest +Juliet that ever has taught the torches to burn bright in any time. +So, I went off, with a guide, to an old, old garden, once belonging +to an old, old convent, I suppose; and being admitted, at a shattered +gate, by a bright-eyed woman who was washing clothes, went down some +walks where fresh plants and young flowers were prettily growing among +fragments of old wall, and ivy-coloured mounds; and was shown a little +tank, or water-trough, which the bright-eyed woman - drying her arms +upon her ‘kerchief, called ‘La tomba di Giulietta la sfortunáta.’ +With the best disposition in the world to believe, I could do no more +than believe that the bright-eyed woman believed; so I gave her that +much credit, and her customary fee in ready money. It was a pleasure, +rather than a disappointment, that Juliet’s resting-place was +forgotten. However consolatory it may have been to Yorick’s +Ghost, to hear the feet upon the pavement overhead, and, twenty times +a day, the repetition of his name, it is better for Juliet to lie out +of the track of tourists, and to have no visitors but such as come to +graves in spring-rain, and sweet air, and sunshine.<br> +<br> +Pleasant Verona! With its beautiful old palaces, and charming +country in the distance, seen from terrace walks, and stately, balustraded +galleries. With its Roman gates, still spanning the fair street, +and casting, on the sunlight of to-day, the shade of fifteen hundred +years ago. With its marble-fitted churches, lofty towers, rich +architecture, and quaint old quiet thoroughfares, where shouts of Montagues +and Capulets once resounded,<br> +<br> +<br> +And made Verona’s ancient citizens<br> +Cast by their grave, beseeming ornaments,<br> +To wield old partizans.<br> +<br> +<br> +With its fast-rushing river, picturesque old bridge, great castle, waving +cypresses, and prospect so delightful, and so cheerful! Pleasant +Verona!<br> +<br> +In the midst of it, in the Piazza di Brá - a spirit of old time +among the familiar realities of the passing hour - is the great Roman +Amphitheatre. So well preserved, and carefully maintained, that +every row of seats is there, unbroken. Over certain of the arches, +the old Roman numerals may yet be seen; and there are corridors, and +staircases, and subterranean passages for beasts, and winding ways, +above ground and below, as when the fierce thousands hurried in and +out, intent upon the bloody shows of the arena. Nestling in some +of the shadows and hollow places of the walls, now, are smiths with +their forges, and a few small dealers of one kind or other; and there +are green weeds, and leaves, and grass, upon the parapet. But +little else is greatly changed.<br> +<br> +When I had traversed all about it, with great interest, and had gone +up to the topmost round of seats, and turning from the lovely panorama +closed in by the distant Alps, looked down into the building, it seemed +to lie before me like the inside of a prodigious hat of plaited straw, +with an enormously broad brim and a shallow crown; the plaits being +represented by the four-and-forty rows of seats. The comparison +is a homely and fantastic one, in sober remembrance and on paper, but +it was irresistibly suggested at the moment, nevertheless.<br> +<br> +An equestrian troop had been there, a short time before - the same troop, +I dare say, that appeared to the old lady in the church at Modena - +and had scooped out a little ring at one end of the area; where their +performances had taken place, and where the marks of their horses’ +feet were still fresh. I could not but picture to myself, a handful +of spectators gathered together on one or two of the old stone seats, +and a spangled Cavalier being gallant, or a Policinello funny, with +the grim walls looking on. Above all, I thought how strangely +those Roman mutes would gaze upon the favourite comic scene of the travelling +English, where a British nobleman (Lord John), with a very loose stomach: +dressed in a blue-tailed coat down to his heels, bright yellow breeches, +and a white hat: comes abroad, riding double on a rearing horse, with +an English lady (Lady Betsy) in a straw bonnet and green veil, and a +red spencer; and who always carries a gigantic reticule, and a put-up +parasol.<br> +<br> +I walked through and through the town all the rest of the day, and could +have walked there until now, I think. In one place, there was +a very pretty modern theatre, where they had just performed the opera +(always popular in Verona) of Romeo and Juliet. In another there +was a collection, under a colonnade, of Greek, Roman, and Etruscan remains, +presided over by an ancient man who might have been an Etruscan relic +himself; for he was not strong enough to open the iron gate, when he +had unlocked it, and had neither voice enough to be audible when he +described the curiosities, nor sight enough to see them: he was so very +old. In another place, there was a gallery of pictures: so abominably +bad, that it was quite delightful to see them mouldering away. +But anywhere: in the churches, among the palaces, in the streets, on +the bridge, or down beside the river: it was always pleasant Verona, +and in my remembrance always will be.<br> +<br> +I read Romeo and Juliet in my own room at the inn that night - of course, +no Englishman had ever read it there, before - and set out for Mantua +next day at sunrise, repeating to myself (in the <i>coupé</i> +of an omnibus, and next to the conductor, who was reading the Mysteries +of Paris),<br> +<br> +<br> +There is no world without Verona’s walls<br> +But purgatory, torture, hell itself.<br> +Hence-banished is banished from the world,<br> +And world’s exile is death -<br> +<br> +<br> +which reminded me that Romeo was only banished five-and-twenty miles +after all, and rather disturbed my confidence in his energy and boldness.<br> +<br> +Was the way to Mantua as beautiful, in his time, I wonder! Did +it wind through pasture land as green, bright with the same glancing +streams, and dotted with fresh clumps of graceful trees! Those +purple mountains lay on the horizon, then, for certain; and the dresses +of these peasant girls, who wear a great, knobbed, silver pin like an +English ‘life-preserver’ through their hair behind, can +hardly be much changed. The hopeful feeling of so bright a morning, +and so exquisite a sunrise, can have been no stranger, even to an exiled +lover’s breast; and Mantua itself must have broken on him in the +prospect, with its towers, and walls, and water, pretty much as on a +commonplace and matrimonial omnibus. He made the same sharp twists +and turns, perhaps, over two rumbling drawbridges; passed through the +like long, covered, wooden bridge; and leaving the marshy water behind, +approached the rusty gate of stagnant Mantua.<br> +<br> +If ever a man were suited to his place of residence, and his place of +residence to him, the lean Apothecary and Mantua came together in a +perfect fitness of things. It may have been more stirring then, +perhaps. If so, the Apothecary was a man in advance of his time, +and knew what Mantua would be, in eighteen hundred and forty-four. +He fasted much, and that assisted him in his foreknowledge.<br> +<br> +I put up at the Hotel of the Golden Lion, and was in my own room arranging +plans with the brave Courier, when there came a modest little tap at +the door, which opened on an outer gallery surrounding a court-yard; +and an intensely shabby little man looked in, to inquire if the gentleman +would have a Cicerone to show the town. His face was so very wistful +and anxious, in the half-opened doorway, and there was so much poverty +expressed in his faded suit and little pinched hat, and in the thread-bare +worsted glove with which he held it - not expressed the less, because +these were evidently his genteel clothes, hastily slipped on - that +I would as soon have trodden on him as dismissed him. I engaged +him on the instant, and he stepped in directly.<br> +<br> +While I finished the discussion in which I was engaged, he stood, beaming +by himself in a corner, making a feint of brushing my hat with his arm. +If his fee had been as many napoleons as it was francs, there could +not have shot over the twilight of his shabbiness such a gleam of sun, +as lighted up the whole man, now that he was hired.<br> +<br> +‘Well!’ said I, when I was ready, ‘shall we go out +now?’<br> +<br> +‘If the gentleman pleases. It is a beautiful day. +A little fresh, but charming; altogether charming. The gentleman +will allow me to open the door. This is the Inn Yard. The +court-yard of the Golden Lion! The gentleman will please to mind +his footing on the stairs.’<br> +<br> +We were now in the street.<br> +<br> +‘This is the street of the Golden Lion. This, the outside +of the Golden Lion. The interesting window up there, on the first +Piano, where the pane of glass is broken, is the window of the gentleman’s +chamber!’<br> +<br> +Having viewed all these remarkable objects, I inquired if there were +much to see in Mantua.<br> +<br> +‘Well! Truly, no. Not much! So, so,’ he +said, shrugging his shoulders apologetically.<br> +<br> +‘Many churches?’<br> +<br> +‘No. Nearly all suppressed by the French.’<br> +<br> +‘Monasteries or convents?’<br> +<br> +‘No. The French again! Nearly all suppressed by Napoleon.’<br> +<br> +‘Much business?’<br> +<br> +‘Very little business.’<br> +<br> +‘Many strangers?’<br> +<br> +‘Ah Heaven!’<br> +<br> +I thought he would have fainted.<br> +<br> +‘Then, when we have seen the two large churches yonder, what shall +we do next?’ said I.<br> +<br> +He looked up the street, and down the street, and rubbed his chin timidly; +and then said, glancing in my face as if a light had broken on his mind, +yet with a humble appeal to my forbearance that was perfectly irresistible:<br> +<br> +‘We can take a little turn about the town, Signore!’ +(Si può far ‘un píccolo gíro della citta).<br> +<br> +It was impossible to be anything but delighted with the proposal, so +we set off together in great good-humour. In the relief of his +mind, he opened his heart, and gave up as much of Mantua as a Cicerone +could.<br> +<br> +‘One must eat,’ he said; ‘but, bah! it was a dull +place, without doubt!’<br> +<br> +He made as much as possible of the Basilica of Santa Andrea - a noble +church - and of an inclosed portion of the pavement, about which tapers +were burning, and a few people kneeling, and under which is said to +be preserved the Sangreal of the old Romances. This church disposed +of, and another after it (the cathedral of San Pietro), we went to the +Museum, which was shut up. ‘It was all the same,’ +he said. ‘Bah! There was not much inside!’ +Then, we went to see the Piazza del Diavolo, built by the Devil (for +no particular purpose) in a single night; then, the Piazza Virgiliana; +then, the statue of Virgil - <i>our</i> Poet, my little friend said, +plucking up a spirit, for the moment, and putting his hat a little on +one side. Then, we went to a dismal sort of farm-yard, by which +a picture-gallery was approached. The moment the gate of this +retreat was opened, some five hundred geese came waddling round us, +stretching out their necks, and clamouring in the most hideous manner, +as if they were ejaculating, ‘Oh! here’s somebody come to +see the Pictures! Don’t go up! Don’t go up!’ +While we went up, they waited very quietly about the door in a crowd, +cackling to one another occasionally, in a subdued tone; but the instant +we appeared again, their necks came out like telescopes, and setting +up a great noise, which meant, I have no doubt, ‘What, you would +go, would you! What do you think of it! How do you like +it!’ they attended us to the outer gate, and cast us forth, derisively, +into Mantua.<br> +<br> +The geese who saved the Capitol, were, as compared to these, Pork to +the learned Pig. What a gallery it was! I would take their +opinion on a question of art, in preference to the discourses of Sir +Joshua Reynolds.<br> +<br> +Now that we were standing in the street, after being thus ignominiouly +escorted thither, my little friend was plainly reduced to the ‘píccolo +gíro,’ or little circuit of the town, he had formerly proposed. +But my suggestion that we should visit the Palazzo Tè (of which +I had heard a great deal, as a strange wild place) imparted new life +to him, and away we went.<br> +<br> +The secret of the length of Midas’s ears, would have been more +extensively known, if that servant of his, who whispered it to the reeds, +had lived in Mantua, where there are reeds and rushes enough to have +published it to all the world. The Palazzo Tè stands in +a swamp, among this sort of vegetation; and is, indeed, as singular +a place as I ever saw.<br> +<br> +Not for its dreariness, though it is very dreary. Not for its +dampness, though it is very damp. Nor for its desolate condition, +though it is as desolate and neglected as house can be. But chiefly +for the unaccountable nightmares with which its interior has been decorated +(among other subjects of more delicate execution), by Giulio Romano. +There is a leering Giant over a certain chimney-piece, and there are +dozens of Giants (Titans warring with Jove) on the walls of another +room, so inconceivably ugly and grotesque, that it is marvellous how +any man can have imagined such creatures. In the chamber in which +they abound, these monsters, with swollen faces and cracked cheeks, +and every kind of distortion of look and limb, are depicted as staggering +under the weight of falling buildings, and being overwhelmed in the +ruins; upheaving masses of rock, and burying themselves beneath; vainly +striving to sustain the pillars of heavy roofs that topple down upon +their heads; and, in a word, undergoing and doing every kind of mad +and demoniacal destruction. The figures are immensely large, and +exaggerated to the utmost pitch of uncouthness; the colouring is harsh +and disagreeable; and the whole effect more like (I should imagine) +a violent rush of blood to the head of the spectator, than any real +picture set before him by the hand of an artist. This apoplectic +performance was shown by a sickly-looking woman, whose appearance was +referable, I dare say, to the bad air of the marshes; but it was difficult +to help feeling as if she were too much haunted by the Giants, and they +were frightening her to death, all alone in that exhausted cistern of +a Palace, among the reeds and rushes, with the mists hovering about +outside, and stalking round and round it continually.<br> +<br> +Our walk through Mantua showed us, in almost every street, some suppressed +church: now used for a warehouse, now for nothing at all: all as crazy +and dismantled as they could be, short of tumbling down bodily. +The marshy town was so intensely dull and flat, that the dirt upon it +seemed not to have come there in the ordinary course, but to have settled +and mantled on its surface as on standing water. And yet there +were some business-dealings going on, and some profits realising; for +there were arcades full of Jews, where those extraordinary people were +sitting outside their shops, contemplating their stores of stuffs, and +woollens, and bright handkerchiefs, and trinkets: and looking, in all +respects, as wary and business-like, as their brethren in Houndsditch, +London.<br> +<br> +Having selected a Vetturíno from among the neighbouring Christians, +who agreed to carry us to Milan in two days and a half, and to start, +next morning, as soon as the gates were opened, I returned to the Golden +Lion, and dined luxuriously in my own room, in a narrow passage between +two bedsteads: confronted by a smoky fire, and backed up by a chest +of drawers. At six o’clock next morning, we were jingling +in the dark through the wet cold mist that enshrouded the town; and, +before noon, the driver (a native of Mantua, and sixty years of age +or thereabouts) began <i>to ask the</i> <i>way</i> to Milan.<br> +<br> +It lay through Bozzolo; formerly a little republic, and now one of the +most deserted and poverty-stricken of towns: where the landlord of the +miserable inn (God bless him! it was his weekly custom) was distributing +infinitesimal coins among a clamorous herd of women and children, whose +rags were fluttering in the wind and rain outside his door, where they +were gathered to receive his charity. It lay through mist, and +mud, and rain, and vines trained low upon the ground, all that day and +the next; the first sleeping-place being Cremona, memorable for its +dark brick churches, and immensely high tower, the Torrazzo - to say +nothing of its violins, of which it certainly produces none in these +degenerate days; and the second, Lodi. Then we went on, through +more mud, mist, and rain, and marshy ground: and through such a fog, +as Englishmen, strong in the faith of their own grievances, are apt +to believe is nowhere to be found but in their own country, until we +entered the paved streets of Milan.<br> +<br> +The fog was so dense here, that the spire of the far-famed Cathedral +might as well have been at Bombay, for anything that could be seen of +it at that time. But as we halted to refresh, for a few days then, +and returned to Milan again next summer, I had ample opportunities of +seeing the glorious structure in all its majesty and beauty.<br> +<br> +All Christian homage to the saint who lies within it! There are +many good and true saints in the calendar, but San Carlo Borromeo has +- if I may quote Mrs. Primrose on such a subject - ‘my warm heart.’ +A charitable doctor to the sick, a munificent friend to the poor, and +this, not in any spirit of blind bigotry, but as the bold opponent of +enormous abuses in the Romish church, I honour his memory. I honour +it none the less, because he was nearly slain by a priest, suborned, +by priests, to murder him at the altar: in acknowledgment of his endeavours +to reform a false and hypocritical brotherhood of monks. Heaven +shield all imitators of San Carlo Borromeo as it shielded him! +A reforming Pope would need a little shielding, even now.<br> +<br> +The subterranean chapel in which the body of San Carlo Borromeo is preserved, +presents as striking and as ghastly a contrast, perhaps, as any place +can show. The tapers which are lighted down there, flash and gleam +on alti-rilievi in gold and silver, delicately wrought by skilful hands, +and representing the principal events in the life of the saint. +Jewels, and precious metals, shine and sparkle on every side. +A windlass slowly removes the front of the altar; and, within it, in +a gorgeous shrine of gold and silver, is seen, through alabaster, the +shrivelled mummy of a man: the pontifical robes with which it is adorned, +radiant with diamonds, emeralds, rubies: every costly and magnificent +gem. The shrunken heap of poor earth in the midst of this great +glitter, is more pitiful than if it lay upon a dung-hill. There +is not a ray of imprisoned light in all the flash and fire of jewels, +but seems to mock the dusty holes where eyes were, once. Every +thread of silk in the rich vestments seems only a provision from the +worms that spin, for the behoof of worms that propagate in sepulchres.<br> +<br> +In the old refectory of the dilapidated Convent of Santa Maria delle +Grazie, is the work of art, perhaps, better known than any other in +the world: the Last Supper, by Leonardo da Vinci - with a door cut through +it by the intelligent Dominican friars, to facilitate their operations +at dinner-time.<br> +<br> +I am not mechanically acquainted with the art of painting, and have +no other means of judging of a picture than as I see it resembling and +refining upon nature, and presenting graceful combinations of forms +and colours. I am, therefore, no authority whatever, in reference +to the ‘touch’ of this or that master; though I know very +well (as anybody may, who chooses to think about the matter) that few +very great masters can possibly have painted, in the compass of their +lives, one-half of the pictures that bear their names, and that are +recognised by many aspirants to a reputation for taste, as undoubted +originals. But this, by the way. Of the Last Supper, I would +simply observe, that in its beautiful composition and arrangement, there +it is, at Milan, a wonderful picture; and that, in its original colouring, +or in its original expression of any single face or feature, there it +is not. Apart from the damage it has sustained from damp, decay, +or neglect, it has been (as Barry shows) so retouched upon, and repainted, +and that so clumsily, that many of the heads are, now, positive deformities, +with patches of paint and plaster sticking upon them like wens, and +utterly distorting the expression. Where the original artist set +that impress of his genius on a face, which, almost in a line or touch, +separated him from meaner painters and made him what he was, succeeding +bunglers, filling up, or painting across seams and cracks, have been +quite unable to imitate his hand; and putting in some scowls, or frowns, +or wrinkles, of their own, have blotched and spoiled the work. +This is so well established as an historical fact, that I should not +repeat it, at the risk of being tedious, but for having observed an +English gentleman before the picture, who was at great pains to fall +into what I may describe as mild convulsions, at certain minute details +of expression which are not left in it. Whereas, it would be comfortable +and rational for travellers and critics to arrive at a general understanding +that it cannot fail to have been a work of extraordinary merit, once: +when, with so few of its original beauties remaining, the grandeur of +the general design is yet sufficient to sustain it, as a piece replete +with interest and dignity.<br> +<br> +We achieved the other sights of Milan, in due course, and a fine city +it is, though not so unmistakably Italian as to possess the characteristic +qualities of many towns far less important in themselves. The +Corso, where the Milanese gentry ride up and down in carriages, and +rather than not do which, they would half starve themselves at home, +is a most noble public promenade, shaded by long avenues of trees. +In the splendid theatre of La Scala, there was a ballet of action performed +after the opera, under the title of Prometheus: in the beginning of +which, some hundred or two of men and women represented our mortal race +before the refinements of the arts and sciences, and loves and graces, +came on earth to soften them. I never saw anything more effective. +Generally speaking, the pantomimic action of the Italians is more remarkable +for its sudden and impetuous character than for its delicate expression, +but, in this case, the drooping monotony: the weary, miserable, listless, +moping life: the sordid passions and desires of human creatures, destitute +of those elevating influences to which we owe so much, and to whose +promoters we render so little: were expressed in a manner really powerful +and affecting. I should have thought it almost impossible to present +such an idea so strongly on the stage, without the aid of speech.<br> +<br> +Milan soon lay behind us, at five o’clock in the morning; and +before the golden statue on the summit of the cathedral spire was lost +in the blue sky, the Alps, stupendously confused in lofty peaks and +ridges, clouds and snow, were towering in our path.<br> +<br> +Still, we continued to advance toward them until nightfall; and, all +day long, the mountain tops presented strangely shifting shapes, as +the road displayed them in different points of view. The beautiful +day was just declining, when we came upon the Lago Maggiore, with its +lovely islands. For however fanciful and fantastic the Isola Bella +may be, and is, it still is beautiful. Anything springing out +of that blue water, with that scenery around it, must be.<br> +<br> +It was ten o’clock at night when we got to Domo d’Ossola, +at the foot of the Pass of the Simplon. But as the moon was shining +brightly, and there was not a cloud in the starlit sky, it was no time +for going to bed, or going anywhere but on. So, we got a little +carriage, after some delay, and began the ascent.<br> +<br> +It was late in November; and the snow lying four or five feet thick +in the beaten road on the summit (in other parts the new drift was already +deep), the air was piercing cold. But, the serenity of the night, +and the grandeur of the road, with its impenetrable shadows, and deep +glooms, and its sudden turns into the shining of the moon and its incessant +roar of falling water, rendered the journey more and more sublime at +every step.<br> +<br> +Soon leaving the calm Italian villages below us, sleeping in the moonlight, +the road began to wind among dark trees, and after a time emerged upon +a barer region, very steep and toilsome, where the moon shone bright +and high. By degrees, the roar of water grew louder; and the stupendous +track, after crossing the torrent by a bridge, struck in between two +massive perpendicular walls of rock that quite shut out the moonlight, +and only left a few stars shining in the narrow strip of sky above. +Then, even this was lost, in the thick darkness of a cavern in the rock, +through which the way was pierced; the terrible cataract thundering +and roaring close below it, and its foam and spray hanging, in a mist, +about the entrance. Emerging from this cave, and coming again +into the moonlight, and across a dizzy bridge, it crept and twisted +upward, through the Gorge of Gondo, savage and grand beyond description, +with smooth-fronted precipices, rising up on either hand, and almost +meeting overhead. Thus we went, climbing on our rugged way, higher +and higher all night, without a moment’s weariness: lost in the +contemplation of the black rocks, the tremendous heights and depths, +the fields of smooth snow lying, in the clefts and hollows, and the +fierce torrents thundering headlong down the deep abyss.<br> +<br> +Towards daybreak, we came among the snow, where a keen wind was blowing +fiercely. Having, with some trouble, awakened the inmates of a +wooden house in this solitude: round which the wind was howling dismally, +catching up the snow in wreaths and hurling it away: we got some breakfast +in a room built of rough timbers, but well warmed by a stove, and well +contrived (as it had need to be) for keeping out the bitter storms. +A sledge being then made ready, and four horses harnessed to it, we +went, ploughing, through the snow. Still upward, but now in the +cold light of morning, and with the great white desert on which we travelled, +plain and clear.<br> +<br> +We were well upon the summit of the mountain: and had before us the +rude cross of wood, denoting its greatest altitude above the sea: when +the light of the rising sun, struck, all at once, upon the waste of +snow, and turned it a deep red. The lonely grandeur of the scene +was then at its height.<br> +<br> +As we went sledging on, there came out of the Hospice founded by Napoleon, +a group of Peasant travellers, with staves and knapsacks, who had rested +there last night: attended by a Monk or two, their hospitable entertainers, +trudging slowly forward with them, for company’s sake. It +was pleasant to give them good morning, and pretty, looking back a long +way after them, to see them looking back at us, and hesitating presently, +when one of our horses stumbled and fell, whether or no they should +return and help us. But he was soon up again, with the assistance +of a rough waggoner whose team had stuck fast there too; and when we +had helped him out of his difficulty, in return, we left him slowly +ploughing towards them, and went slowly and swiftly forward, on the +brink of a steep precipice, among the mountain pines.<br> +<br> +Taking to our wheels again, soon afterwards, we began rapidly to descend; +passing under everlasting glaciers, by means of arched galleries, hung +with clusters of dripping icicles; under and over foaming waterfalls; +near places of refuge, and galleries of shelter against sudden danger; +through caverns over whose arched roofs the avalanches slide, in spring, +and bury themselves in the unknown gulf beneath. Down, over lofty +bridges, and through horrible ravines: a little shifting speck in the +vast desolation of ice and snow, and monstrous granite rocks; down through +the deep Gorge of the Saltine, and deafened by the torrent plunging +madly down, among the riven blocks of rock, into the level country, +far below. Gradually down, by zig-zag roads, lying between an +upward and a downward precipice, into warmer weather, calmer air, and +softer scenery, until there lay before us, glittering like gold or silver +in the thaw and sunshine, the metal-covered, red, green, yellow, domes +and church-spires of a Swiss town.<br> +<br> +The business of these recollections being with Italy, and my business, +consequently, being to scamper back thither as fast as possible, I will +not recall (though I am sorely tempted) how the Swiss villages, clustered +at the feet of Giant mountains, looked like playthings; or how confusedly +the houses were heaped and piled together; or how there were very narrow +streets to shut the howling winds out in the winter-time; and broken +bridges, which the impetuous torrents, suddenly released in spring, +had swept away. Or how there were peasant women here, with great +round fur caps: looking, when they peeped out of casements and only +their heads were seen, like a population of Sword-bearers to the Lord +Mayor of London; or how the town of Vevey, lying on the smooth lake +of Geneva, was beautiful to see; or how the statue of Saint Peter in +the street at Fribourg, grasps the largest key that ever was beheld; +or how Fribourg is illustrious for its two suspension bridges, and its +grand cathedral organ.<br> +<br> +Or how, between that town and Bâle, the road meandered among thriving +villages of wooden cottages, with overhanging thatched roofs, and low +protruding windows, glazed with small round panes of glass like crown-pieces; +or how, in every little Swiss homestead, with its cart or waggon carefully +stowed away beside the house, its little garden, stock of poultry, and +groups of red-cheeked children, there was an air of comfort, very new +and very pleasant after Italy; or how the dresses of the women changed +again, and there were no more sword-bearers to be seen; and fair white +stomachers, and great black, fan-shaped, gauzy-looking caps, prevailed +instead.<br> +<br> +Or how the country by the Jura mountains, sprinkled with snow, and lighted +by the moon, and musical with falling water, was delightful; or how, +below the windows of the great hotel of the Three Kings at Bâle, +the swollen Rhine ran fast and green; or how, at Strasbourg, it was +quite as fast but not as green: and was said to be foggy lower down: +and, at that late time of the year, was a far less certain means of +progress, than the highway road to Paris.<br> +<br> +Or how Strasbourg itself, in its magnificent old Gothic Cathedral, and +its ancient houses with their peaked roofs and gables, made a little +gallery of quaint and interesting views; or how a crowd was gathered +inside the cathedral at noon, to see the famous mechanical clock in +motion, striking twelve. How, when it struck twelve, a whole army +of puppets went through many ingenious evolutions; and, among them, +a huge puppet-cock, perched on the top, crowed twelve times, loud and +clear. Or how it was wonderful to see this cock at great pains +to clap its wings, and strain its throat; but obviously having no connection +whatever with its own voice; which was deep within the clock, a long +way down.<br> +<br> +Or how the road to Paris, was one sea of mud, and thence to the coast, +a little better for a hard frost. Or how the cliffs of Dover were +a pleasant sight, and England was so wonderfully neat - though dark, +and lacking colour on a winter’s day, it must be conceded.<br> +<br> +Or how, a few days afterwards, it was cool, re-crossing the channel, +with ice upon the decks, and snow lying pretty deep in France. +Or how the Malle Poste scrambled through the snow, headlong, drawn in +the hilly parts by any number of stout horses at a canter; or how there +were, outside the Post-office Yard in Paris, before daybreak, extraordinary +adventurers in heaps of rags, groping in the snowy streets with little +rakes, in search of odds and ends.<br> +<br> +Or how, between Paris and Marseilles, the snow being then exceeding +deep, a thaw came on, and the mail waded rather than rolled for the +next three hundred miles or so; breaking springs on Sunday nights, and +putting out its two passengers to warm and refresh themselves pending +the repairs, in miserable billiard-rooms, where hairy company, collected +about stoves, were playing cards; the cards being very like themselves +- extremely limp and dirty.<br> +<br> +Or how there was detention at Marseilles from stress of weather; and +steamers were advertised to go, which did not go; or how the good Steam-packet +Charlemagne at length put out, and met such weather that now she threatened +to run into Toulon, and now into Nice, but, the wind moderating, did +neither, but ran on into Genoa harbour instead, where the familiar Bells +rang sweetly in my ear. Or how there was a travelling party on +board, of whom one member was very ill in the cabin next to mine, and +being ill was cross, and therefore declined to give up the Dictionary, +which he kept under his pillow; thereby obliging his companions to come +down to him, constantly, to ask what was the Italian for a lump of sugar +- a glass of brandy and water - what’s o’clock? and so forth: +which he always insisted on looking out, with his own sea-sick eyes, +declining to entrust the book to any man alive.<br> +<br> +Like GRUMIO, I might have told you, in detail, all this and something +more - but to as little purpose - were I not deterred by the remembrance +that my business is with Italy. Therefore, like GRUMIO’S +story, ‘it shall die in oblivion.’<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER IX - TO ROME BY PISA AND SIENA<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +There is nothing in Italy, more beautiful to me, than the coast-road +between Genoa and Spezzia. On one side: sometimes far below, sometimes +nearly on a level with the road, and often skirted by broken rocks of +many shapes: there is the free blue sea, with here and there a picturesque +felucca gliding slowly on; on the other side are lofty hills, ravines +besprinkled with white cottages, patches of dark olive woods, country +churches with their light open towers, and country houses gaily painted. +On every bank and knoll by the wayside, the wild cactus and aloe flourish +in exuberant profusion; and the gardens of the bright villages along +the road, are seen, all blushing in the summer-time with clusters of +the Belladonna, and are fragrant in the autumn and winter with golden +oranges and lemons.<br> +<br> +Some of the villages are inhabited, almost exclusively, by fishermen; +and it is pleasant to see their great boats hauled up on the beach, +making little patches of shade, where they lie asleep, or where the +women and children sit romping and looking out to sea, while they mend +their nets upon the shore. There is one town, Camoglia, with its +little harbour on the sea, hundreds of feet below the road; where families +of mariners live, who, time out of mind, have owned coasting-vessels +in that place, and have traded to Spain and elsewhere. Seen from +the road above, it is like a tiny model on the margin of the dimpled +water, shining in the sun. Descended into, by the winding mule-tracks, +it is a perfect miniature of a primitive seafaring town; the saltest, +roughest, most piratical little place that ever was seen. Great +rusty iron rings and mooring-chains, capstans, and fragments of old +masts and spars, choke up the way; hardy rough-weather boats, and seamen’s +clothing, flutter in the little harbour or are drawn out on the sunny +stones to dry; on the parapet of the rude pier, a few amphibious-looking +fellows lie asleep, with their legs dangling over the wall, as though +earth or water were all one to them, and if they slipped in, they would +float away, dozing comfortably among the fishes; the church is bright +with trophies of the sea, and votive offerings, in commemoration of +escape from storm and shipwreck. The dwellings not immediately +abutting on the harbour are approached by blind low archways, and by +crooked steps, as if in darkness and in difficulty of access they should +be like holds of ships, or inconvenient cabins under water; and everywhere, +there is a smell of fish, and sea-weed, and old rope.<br> +<br> +The coast-road whence Camoglia is descried so far below, is famous, +in the warm season, especially in some parts near Genoa, for fire-flies. +Walking there on a dark night, I have seen it made one sparkling firmament +by these beautiful insects: so that the distant stars were pale against +the flash and glitter that spangled every olive wood and hill-side, +and pervaded the whole air.<br> +<br> +It was not in such a season, however, that we traversed this road on +our way to Rome. The middle of January was only just past, and +it was very gloomy and dark weather; very wet besides. In crossing +the fine pass of Bracco, we encountered such a storm of mist and rain, +that we travelled in a cloud the whole way. There might have been +no Mediterranean in the world, for anything that we saw of it there, +except when a sudden gust of wind, clearing the mist before it, for +a moment, showed the agitated sea at a great depth below, lashing the +distant rocks, and spouting up its foam furiously. The rain was +incessant; every brook and torrent was greatly swollen; and such a deafening +leaping, and roaring, and thundering of water, I never heard the like +of in my life.<br> +<br> +Hence, when we came to Spezzia, we found that the Magra, an unbridged +river on the high-road to Pisa, was too high to be safely crossed in +the Ferry Boat, and were fain to wait until the afternoon of next day, +when it had, in some degree, subsided. Spezzia, however, is a +good place to tarry at; by reason, firstly, of its beautiful bay; secondly, +of its ghostly Inn; thirdly, of the head-dress of the women, who wear, +on one side of their head, a small doll’s straw hat, stuck on +to the hair; which is certainly the oddest and most roguish head-gear +that ever was invented.<br> +<br> +The Magra safely crossed in the Ferry Boat - the passage is not by any +means agreeable, when the current is swollen and strong - we arrived +at Carrara, within a few hours. In good time next morning, we +got some ponies, and went out to see the marble quarries.<br> +<br> +They are four or five great glens, running up into a range of lofty +hills, until they can run no longer, and are stopped by being abruptly +strangled by Nature. The quarries, ‘or caves,’ as +they call them there, are so many openings, high up in the hills, on +either side of these passes, where they blast and excavate for marble: +which may turn out good or bad: may make a man’s fortune very +quickly, or ruin him by the great expense of working what is worth nothing. +Some of these caves were opened by the ancient Romans, and remain as +they left them to this hour. Many others are being worked at this +moment; others are to be begun to-morrow, next week, next month; others +are unbought, unthought of; and marble enough for more ages than have +passed since the place was resorted to, lies hidden everywhere: patiently +awaiting its time of discovery.<br> +<br> +As you toil and clamber up one of these steep gorges (having left your +pony soddening his girths in water, a mile or two lower down) you hear, +every now and then, echoing among the hills, in a low tone, more silent +than the previous silence, a melancholy warning bugle, - a signal to +the miners to withdraw. Then, there is a thundering, and echoing +from hill to hill, and perhaps a splashing up of great fragments of +rock into the air; and on you toil again until some other bugle sounds, +in a new direction, and you stop directly, lest you should come within +the range of the new explosion.<br> +<br> +There were numbers of men, working high up in these hills - on the sides +- clearing away, and sending down the broken masses of stone and earth, +to make way for the blocks of marble that had been discovered. +As these came rolling down from unseen hands into the narrow valley, +I could not help thinking of the deep glen (just the same sort of glen) +where the Roc left Sindbad the Sailor; and where the merchants from +the heights above, flung down great pieces of meat for the diamonds +to stick to. There were no eagles here, to darken the sun in their +swoop, and pounce upon them; but it was as wild and fierce as if there +had been hundreds.<br> +<br> +But the road, the road down which the marble comes, however immense +the blocks! The genius of the country, and the spirit of its institutions, +pave that road: repair it, watch it, keep it going! Conceive a +channel of water running over a rocky bed, beset with great heaps of +stone of all shapes and sizes, winding down the middle of this valley; +and <i>that</i> being the road - because it was the road five hundred +years ago! Imagine the clumsy carts of five hundred years ago, +being used to this hour, and drawn, as they used to be, five hundred +years ago, by oxen, whose ancestors were worn to death five hundred +years ago, as their unhappy descendants are now, in twelve months, by +the suffering and agony of this cruel work! Two pair, four pair, +ten pair, twenty pair, to one block, according to its size; down it +must come, this way. In their struggling from stone to stone, +with their enormous loads behind them, they die frequently upon the +spot; and not they alone; for their passionate drivers, sometimes tumbling +down in their energy, are crushed to death beneath the wheels. +But it was good five hundred years ago, and it must be good now: and +a railroad down one of these steeps (the easiest thing in the world) +would be flat blasphemy.<br> +<br> +When we stood aside, to see one of these cars drawn by only a pair of +oxen (for it had but one small block of marble on it), coming down, +I hailed, in my heart, the man who sat upon the heavy yoke, to keep +it on the neck of the poor beasts - and who faced backwards: not before +him - as the very Devil of true despotism. He had a great rod +in his hand, with an iron point; and when they could plough and force +their way through the loose bed of the torrent no longer, and came to +a stop, he poked it into their bodies, beat it on their heads, screwed +it round and round in their nostrils, got them on a yard or two, in +the madness of intense pain; repeated all these persuasions, with increased +intensity of purpose, when they stopped again; got them on, once more; +forced and goaded them to an abrupter point of the descent; and when +their writhing and smarting, and the weight behind them, bore them plunging +down the precipice in a cloud of scattered water, whirled his rod above +his head, and gave a great whoop and hallo, as if he had achieved something, +and had no idea that they might shake him off, and blindly mash his +brains upon the road, in the noontide of his triumph.<br> +<br> +Standing in one of the many studii of Carrara, that afternoon - for +it is a great workshop, full of beautifully-finished copies in marble, +of almost every figure, group, and bust, we know - it seemed, at first, +so strange to me that those exquisite shapes, replete with grace, and +thought, and delicate repose, should grow out of all this toil, and +sweat, and torture! But I soon found a parallel to it, and an +explanation of it, in every virtue that springs up in miserable ground, +and every good thing that has its birth in sorrow and distress. +And, looking out of the sculptor’s great window, upon the marble +mountains, all red and glowing in the decline of day, but stern and +solemn to the last, I thought, my God! how many quarries of human hearts +and souls, capable of far more beautiful results, are left shut up and +mouldering away: while pleasure-travellers through life, avert their +faces, as they pass, and shudder at the gloom and ruggedness that conceal +them!<br> +<br> +The then reigning Duke of Modena, to whom this territory in part belonged, +claimed the proud distinction of being the only sovereign in Europe +who had not recognised Louis-Philippe as King of the French! He +was not a wag, but quite in earnest. He was also much opposed +to railroads; and if certain lines in contemplation by other potentates, +on either side of him, had been executed, would have probably enjoyed +the satisfaction of having an omnibus plying to and fro across his not +very vast dominions, to forward travellers from one terminus to another.<br> +<br> +Carrara, shut in by great hills, is very picturesque and bold. +Few tourists stay there; and the people are nearly all connected, in +one way or other, with the working of marble. There are also villages +among the caves, where the workmen live. It contains a beautiful +little Theatre, newly built; and it is an interesting custom there, +to form the chorus of labourers in the marble quarries, who are self-taught +and sing by ear. I heard them in a comic opera, and in an act +of ‘Norma;’ and they acquitted themselves very well; unlike +the common people of Italy generally, who (with some exceptions among +the Neapolitans) sing vilely out of tune, and have very disagreeable +singing voices.<br> +<br> +From the summit of a lofty hill beyond Carrara, the first view of the +fertile plain in which the town of Pisa lies - with Leghorn, a purple +spot in the flat distance - is enchanting. Nor is it only distance +that lends enchantment to the view; for the fruitful country, and rich +woods of olive-trees through which the road subsequently passes, render +it delightful.<br> +<br> +The moon was shining when we approached Pisa, and for a long time we +could see, behind the wall, the leaning Tower, all awry in the uncertain +light; the shadowy original of the old pictures in school-books, setting +forth ‘The Wonders of the World.’ Like most things +connected in their first associations with school-books and school-times, +it was too small. I felt it keenly. It was nothing like +so high above the wall as I had hoped. It was another of the many +deceptions practised by Mr. Harris, Bookseller, at the corner of St. +Paul’s Churchyard, London. <i>His</i> Tower was a fiction, +but this was a reality - and, by comparison, a short reality. +Still, it looked very well, and very strange, and was quite as much +out of the perpendicular as Harris had represented it to be. The +quiet air of Pisa too; the big guard-house at the gate, with only two +little soldiers in it; the streets with scarcely any show of people +in them; and the Arno, flowing quaintly through the centre of the town; +were excellent. So, I bore no malice in my heart against Mr. Harris +(remembering his good intentions), but forgave him before dinner, and +went out, full of confidence, to see the Tower next morning.<br> +<br> +I might have known better; but, somehow, I had expected to see it, casting +its long shadow on a public street where people came and went all day. +It was a surprise to me to find it in a grave retired place, apart from +the general resort, and carpeted with smooth green turf. But, +the group of buildings, clustered on and about this verdant carpet: +comprising the Tower, the Baptistery, the Cathedral, and the Church +of the Campo Santo: is perhaps the most remarkable and beautiful in +the whole world; and from being clustered there, together, away from +the ordinary transactions and details of the town, they have a singularly +venerable and impressive character. It is the architectural essence +of a rich old city, with all its common life and common habitations +pressed out, and filtered away.<br> +<br> +SIMOND compares the Tower to the usual pictorial representations in +children’s books of the Tower of Babel. It is a happy simile, +and conveys a better idea of the building than chapters of laboured +description. Nothing can exceed the grace and lightness of the +structure; nothing can be more remarkable than its general appearance. +In the course of the ascent to the top (which is by an easy staircase), +the inclination is not very apparent; but, at the summit, it becomes +so, and gives one the sensation of being in a ship that has heeled over, +through the action of an ebb-tide. The effect <i>upon the low +side</i>, so to speak - looking over from the gallery, and seeing the +shaft recede to its base - is very startling; and I saw a nervous traveller +hold on to the Tower involuntarily, after glancing down, as if he had +some idea of propping it up. The view within, from the ground +- looking up, as through a slanted tube - is also very curious. +It certainly inclines as much as the most sanguine tourist could desire. +The natural impulse of ninety-nine people out of a hundred, who were +about to recline upon the grass below it, to rest, and contemplate the +adjacent buildings, would probably be, not to take up their position +under the leaning side; it is so very much aslant.<br> +<br> +The manifold beauties of the Cathedral and Baptistery need no recapitulation +from me; though in this case, as in a hundred others, I find it difficult +to separate my own delight in recalling them, from your weariness in +having them recalled. There is a picture of St. Agnes, by Andrea +del Sarto, in the former, and there are a variety of rich columns in +the latter, that tempt me strongly.<br> +<br> +It is, I hope, no breach of my resolution not to be tempted into elaborate +descriptions, to remember the Campo Santo; where grass-grown graves +are dug in earth brought more than six hundred years ago, from the Holy +Land; and where there are, surrounding them, such cloisters, with such +playing lights and shadows falling through their delicate tracery on +the stone pavement, as surely the dullest memory could never forget. +On the walls of this solemn and lovely place, are ancient frescoes, +very much obliterated and decayed, but very curious. As usually +happens in almost any collection of paintings, of any sort, in Italy, +where there are many heads, there is, in one of them, a striking accidental +likeness of Napoleon. At one time, I used to please my fancy with +the speculation whether these old painters, at their work, had a foreboding +knowledge of the man who would one day arise to wreak such destruction +upon art: whose soldiers would make targets of great pictures, and stable +their horses among triumphs of architecture. But the same Corsican +face is so plentiful in some parts of Italy at this day, that a more +commonplace solution of the coincidence is unavoidable.<br> +<br> +If Pisa be the seventh wonder of the world in right of its Tower, it +may claim to be, at least, the second or third in right of its beggars. +They waylay the unhappy visitor at every turn, escort him to every door +he enters at, and lie in wait for him, with strong reinforcements, at +every door by which they know he must come out. The grating of +the portal on its hinges is the signal for a general shout, and the +moment he appears, he is hemmed in, and fallen on, by heaps of rags +and personal distortions. The beggars seem to embody all the trade +and enterprise of Pisa. Nothing else is stirring, but warm air. +Going through the streets, the fronts of the sleepy houses look like +backs. They are all so still and quiet, and unlike houses with +people in them, that the greater part of the city has the appearance +of a city at daybreak, or during a general siesta of the population. +Or it is yet more like those backgrounds of houses in common prints, +or old engravings, where windows and doors are squarely indicated, and +one figure (a beggar of course) is seen walking off by itself into illimitable +perspective.<br> +<br> +Not so Leghorn (made illustrious by SMOLLETT’S grave), which is +a thriving, business-like, matter-of-fact place, where idleness is shouldered +out of the way by commerce. The regulations observed there, in +reference to trade and merchants, are very liberal and free; and the +town, of course, benefits by them. Leghorn had a bad name in connection +with stabbers, and with some justice it must be allowed; for, not many +years ago, there was an assassination club there, the members of which +bore no ill-will to anybody in particular, but stabbed people (quite +strangers to them) in the streets at night, for the pleasure and excitement +of the recreation. I think the president of this amiable society +was a shoemaker. He was taken, however, and the club was broken +up. It would, probably, have disappeared in the natural course +of events, before the railroad between Leghorn and Pisa, which is a +good one, and has already begun to astonish Italy with a precedent of +punctuality, order, plain dealing, and improvement - the most dangerous +and heretical astonisher of all. There must have been a slight +sensation, as of earthquake, surely, in the Vatican, when the first +Italian railroad was thrown open.<br> +<br> +Returning to Pisa, and hiring a good-tempered Vetturíno, and +his four horses, to take us on to Rome, we travelled through pleasant +Tuscan villages and cheerful scenery all day. The roadside crosses +in this part of Italy are numerous and curious. There is seldom +a figure on the cross, though there is sometimes a face, but they are +remarkable for being garnished with little models in wood, of every +possible object that can be connected with the Saviour’s death. +The cock that crowed when Peter had denied his Master thrice, is usually +perched on the tip-top; and an ornithological phenomenon he generally +is. Under him, is the inscription. Then, hung on to the +cross-beam, are the spear, the reed with the sponge of vinegar and water +at the end, the coat without seam for which the soldiers cast lots, +the dice-box with which they threw for it, the hammer that drove in +the nails, the pincers that pulled them out, the ladder which was set +against the cross, the crown of thorns, the instrument of flagellation, +the lanthorn with which Mary went to the tomb (I suppose), and the sword +with which Peter smote the servant of the high priest, - a perfect toy-shop +of little objects, repeated at every four or five miles, all along the +highway.<br> +<br> +On the evening of the second day from Pisa, we reached the beautiful +old city of Siena. There was what they called a Carnival, in progress; +but, as its secret lay in a score or two of melancholy people walking +up and down the principal street in common toy-shop masks, and being +more melancholy, if possible, than the same sort of people in England, +I say no more of it. We went off, betimes next morning, to see +the Cathedral, which is wonderfully picturesque inside and out, especially +the latter - also the market-place, or great Piazza, which is a large +square, with a great broken-nosed fountain in it: some quaint Gothic +houses: and a high square brick tower; <i>outside</i> the top of which +- a curious feature in such views in Italy - hangs an enormous bell. +It is like a bit of Venice, without the water. There are some +curious old Palazzi in the town, which is very ancient; and without +having (for me) the interest of Verona, or Genoa, it is very dreamy +and fantastic, and most interesting.<br> +<br> +We went on again, as soon as we had seen these things, and going over +a rather bleak country (there had been nothing but vines until now: +mere walking-sticks at that season of the year), stopped, as usual, +between one and two hours in the middle of the day, to rest the horses; +that being a part of every Vetturíno contract. We then +went on again, through a region gradually becoming bleaker and wilder, +until it became as bare and desolate as any Scottish moors. Soon +after dark, we halted for the night, at the osteria of La Scala: a perfectly +lone house, where the family were sitting round a great fire in the +kitchen, raised on a stone platform three or four feet high, and big +enough for the roasting of an ox. On the upper, and only other +floor of this hotel, there was a great, wild, rambling sála, +with one very little window in a by-corner, and four black doors opening +into four black bedrooms in various directions. To say nothing +of another large black door, opening into another large black sála, +with the staircase coming abruptly through a kind of trap-door in the +floor, and the rafters of the roof looming above: a suspicious little +press skulking in one obscure corner: and all the knives in the house +lying about in various directions. The fireplace was of the purest +Italian architecture, so that it was perfectly impossible to see it +for the smoke. The waitress was like a dramatic brigand’s +wife, and wore the same style of dress upon her head. The dogs +barked like mad; the echoes returned the compliments bestowed upon them; +there was not another house within twelve miles; and things had a dreary, +and rather a cut-throat, appearance.<br> +<br> +They were not improved by rumours of robbers having come out, strong +and boldly, within a few nights; and of their having stopped the mail +very near that place. They were known to have waylaid some travellers +not long before, on Mount Vesuvius itself, and were the talk at all +the roadside inns. As they were no business of ours, however (for +we had very little with us to lose), we made ourselves merry on the +subject, and were very soon as comfortable as need be. We had +the usual dinner in this solitary house; and a very good dinner it is, +when you are used to it. There is something with a vegetable or +some rice in it which is a sort of shorthand or arbitrary character +for soup, and which tastes very well, when you have flavoured it with +plenty of grated cheese, lots of salt, and abundance of pepper. +There is the half fowl of which this soup has been made. There +is a stewed pigeon, with the gizzards and livers of himself and other +birds stuck all round him. There is a bit of roast beef, the size +of a small French roll. There are a scrap of Parmesan cheese, +and five little withered apples, all huddled together on a small plate, +and crowding one upon the other, as if each were trying to save itself +from the chance of being eaten. Then there is coffee; and then +there is bed. You don’t mind brick floors; you don’t +mind yawning doors, nor banging windows; you don’t mind your own +horses being stabled under the bed: and so close, that every time a +horse coughs or sneezes, he wakes you. If you are good-humoured +to the people about you, and speak pleasantly, and look cheerful, take +my word for it you may be well entertained in the very worst Italian +Inn, and always in the most obliging manner, and may go from one end +of the country to the other (despite all stories to the contrary) without +any great trial of your patience anywhere. Especially, when you +get such wine in flasks, as the Orvieto, and the Monte Pulciano.<br> +<br> +It was a bad morning when we left this place; and we went, for twelve +miles, over a country as barren, as stony, and as wild, as Cornwall +in England, until we came to Radicofani, where there is a ghostly, goblin +inn: once a hunting-seat, belonging to the Dukes of Tuscany. It +is full of such rambling corridors, and gaunt rooms, that all the murdering +and phantom tales that ever were written might have originated in that +one house. There are some horrible old Palazzi in Genoa: one in +particular, not unlike it, outside: but there is a winding, creaking, +wormy, rustling, door-opening, foot-on-staircase-falling character about +this Radicofani Hotel, such as I never saw, anywhere else. The +town, such as it is, hangs on a hill-side above the house, and in front +of it. The inhabitants are all beggars; and as soon as they see +a carriage coming, they swoop down upon it, like so many birds of prey.<br> +<br> +When we got on the mountain pass, which lies beyond this place, the +wind (as they had forewarned us at the inn) was so terrific, that we +were obliged to take my other half out of the carriage, lest she should +be blown over, carriage and all, and to hang to it, on the windy side +(as well as we could for laughing), to prevent its going, Heaven knows +where. For mere force of wind, this land-storm might have competed +with an Atlantic gale, and had a reasonable chance of coming off victorious. +The blast came sweeping down great gullies in a range of mountains on +the right: so that we looked with positive awe at a great morass on +the left, and saw that there was not a bush or twig to hold by. +It seemed as if, once blown from our feet, we must be swept out to sea, +or away into space. There was snow, and hail, and rain, and lightning, +and thunder; and there were rolling mists, travelling with incredible +velocity. It was dark, awful, and solitary to the last degree; +there were mountains above mountains, veiled in angry clouds; and there +was such a wrathful, rapid, violent, tumultuous hurry, everywhere, as +rendered the scene unspeakably exciting and grand.<br> +<br> +It was a relief to get out of it, notwithstanding; and to cross even +the dismal, dirty Papal Frontier. After passing through two little +towns; in one of which, Acquapendente, there was also a ‘Carnival’ +in progress: consisting of one man dressed and masked as a woman, and +one woman dressed and masked as a man, walking ankle-deep, through the +muddy streets, in a very melancholy manner: we came, at dusk, within +sight of the Lake of Bolsena, on whose bank there is a little town of +the same name, much celebrated for malaria. With the exception +of this poor place, there is not a cottage on the banks of the lake, +or near it (for nobody dare sleep there); not a boat upon its waters; +not a stick or stake to break the dismal monotony of seven-and-twenty +watery miles. We were late in getting in, the roads being very +bad from heavy rains; and, after dark, the dulness of the scene was +quite intolerable.<br> +<br> +We entered on a very different, and a finer scene of desolation, next +night, at sunset. We had passed through Montefiaschone (famous +for its wine) and Viterbo (for its fountains): and after climbing up +a long hill of eight or ten miles’ extent, came suddenly upon +the margin of a solitary lake: in one part very beautiful, with a luxuriant +wood; in another, very barren, and shut in by bleak volcanic hills. +Where this lake flows, there stood, of old, a city. It was swallowed +up one day; and in its stead, this water rose. There are ancient +traditions (common to many parts of the world) of the ruined city having +been seen below, when the water was clear; but however that may be, +from this spot of earth it vanished. The ground came bubbling +up above it; and the water too; and here they stand, like ghosts on +whom the other world closed suddenly, and who have no means of getting +back again. They seem to be waiting the course of ages, for the +next earthquake in that place; when they will plunge below the ground, +at its first yawning, and be seen no more. The unhappy city below, +is not more lost and dreary, than these fire-charred hills and the stagnant +water, above. The red sun looked strangely on them, as with the +knowledge that they were made for caverns and darkness; and the melancholy +water oozed and sucked the mud, and crept quietly among the marshy grass +and reeds, as if the overthrow of all the ancient towers and housetops, +and the death of all the ancient people born and bred there, were yet +heavy on its conscience.<br> +<br> +A short ride from this lake, brought us to Ronciglione; a little town +like a large pig-sty, where we passed the night. Next morning +at seven o’clock, we started for Rome.<br> +<br> +As soon as we were out of the pig-sty, we entered on the Campagna Romana; +an undulating flat (as you know), where few people can live; and where, +for miles and miles, there is nothing to relieve the terrible monotony +and gloom. Of all kinds of country that could, by possibility, +lie outside the gates of Rome, this is the aptest and fittest burial-ground +for the Dead City. So sad, so quiet, so sullen; so secret in its +covering up of great masses of ruin, and hiding them; so like the waste +places into which the men possessed with devils used to go and howl, +and rend themselves, in the old days of Jerusalem. We had to traverse +thirty miles of this Campagna; and for two-and-twenty we went on and +on, seeing nothing but now and then a lonely house, or a villainous-looking +shepherd: with matted hair all over his face, and himself wrapped to +the chin in a frowsy brown mantle, tending his sheep. At the end +of that distance, we stopped to refresh the horses, and to get some +lunch, in a common malaria-shaken, despondent little public-house, whose +every inch of wall and beam, inside, was (according to custom) painted +and decorated in a way so miserable that every room looked like the +wrong side of another room, and, with its wretched imitation of drapery, +and lop-sided little daubs of lyres, seemed to have been plundered from +behind the scenes of some travelling circus.<br> +<br> +When we were fairly going off again, we began, in a perfect fever, to +strain our eyes for Rome; and when, after another mile or two, the Eternal +City appeared, at length, in the distance; it looked like - I am half +afraid to write the word - like LONDON!!! There it lay, under +a thick cloud, with innumerable towers, and steeples, and roofs of houses, +rising up into the sky, and high above them all, one Dome. I swear, +that keenly as I felt the seeming absurdity of the comparison, it was +so like London, at that distance, that if you could have shown it me, +in a glass, I should have taken it for nothing else.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER X - ROME<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +We entered the Eternal City, at about four o’clock in the afternoon, +on the thirtieth of January, by the Porta del Popolo, and came immediately +- it was a dark, muddy day, and there had been heavy rain - on the skirts +of the Carnival. We did not, then, know that we were only looking +at the fag end of the masks, who were driving slowly round and round +the Piazza until they could find a promising opportunity for falling +into the stream of carriages, and getting, in good time, into the thick +of the festivity; and coming among them so abruptly, all travel-stained +and weary, was not coming very well prepared to enjoy the scene.<br> +<br> +We had crossed the Tiber by the Ponte Molle two or three miles before. +It had looked as yellow as it ought to look, and hurrying on between +its worn-away and miry banks, had a promising aspect of desolation and +ruin. The masquerade dresses on the fringe of the Carnival, did +great violence to this promise. There were no great ruins, no +solemn tokens of antiquity, to be seen; - they all lie on the other +side of the city. There seemed to be long streets of commonplace +shops and houses, such as are to be found in any European town; there +were busy people, equipages, ordinary walkers to and fro; a multitude +of chattering strangers. It was no more <i>my</i> Rome: the Rome +of anybody’s fancy, man or boy; degraded and fallen and lying +asleep in the sun among a heap of ruins: than the Place de la Concorde +in Paris is. A cloudy sky, a dull cold rain, and muddy streets, +I was prepared for, but not for this: and I confess to having gone to +bed, that night, in a very indifferent humour, and with a very considerably +quenched enthusiasm.<br> +<br> +Immediately on going out next day, we hurried off to St. Peter’s. +It looked immense in the distance, but distinctly and decidedly small, +by comparison, on a near approach. The beauty of the Piazza, on +which it stands, with its clusters of exquisite columns, and its gushing +fountains - so fresh, so broad, and free, and beautiful - nothing can +exaggerate. The first burst of the interior, in all its expansive +majesty and glory: and, most of all, the looking up into the Dome: is +a sensation never to be forgotten. But, there were preparations +for a Festa; the pillars of stately marble were swathed in some impertinent +frippery of red and yellow; the altar, and entrance to the subterranean +chapel: which is before it: in the centre of the church: were like a +goldsmith’s shop, or one of the opening scenes in a very lavish +pantomime. And though I had as high a sense of the beauty of the +building (I hope) as it is possible to entertain, I felt no very strong +emotion. I have been infinitely more affected in many English +cathedrals when the organ has been playing, and in many English country +churches when the congregation have been singing. I had a much +greater sense of mystery and wonder, in the Cathedral of San Mark at +Venice.<br> +<br> +When we came out of the church again (we stood nearly an hour staring +up into the dome: and would not have ‘gone over’ the Cathedral +then, for any money), we said to the coachman, ‘Go to the Coliseum.’ +In a quarter of an hour or so, he stopped at the gate, and we went in.<br> +<br> +It is no fiction, but plain, sober, honest Truth, to say: so suggestive +and distinct is it at this hour: that, for a moment - actually in passing +in - they who will, may have the whole great pile before them, as it +used to be, with thousands of eager faces staring down into the arena, +and such a whirl of strife, and blood, and dust going on there, as no +language can describe. Its solitude, its awful beauty, and its +utter desolation, strike upon the stranger the next moment, like a softened +sorrow; and never in his life, perhaps, will he be so moved and overcome +by any sight, not immediately connected with his own affections and +afflictions.<br> +<br> +To see it crumbling there, an inch a year; its walls and arches overgrown +with green; its corridors open to the day; the long grass growing in +its porches; young trees of yesterday, springing up on its ragged parapets, +and bearing fruit: chance produce of the seeds dropped there by the +birds who build their nests within its chinks and crannies; to see its +Pit of Fight filled up with earth, and the peaceful Cross planted in +the centre; to climb into its upper halls, and look down on ruin, ruin, +ruin, all about it; the triumphal arches of Constantine, Septimus Severus, +and Titus; the Roman Forum; the Palace of the Caesars; the temples of +the old religion, fallen down and gone; is to see the ghost of old Rome, +wicked, wonderful old city, haunting the very ground on which its people +trod. It is the most impressive, the most stately, the most solemn, +grand, majestic, mournful sight, conceivable. Never, in its bloodiest +prime, can the sight of the gigantic Coliseum, full and running over +with the lustiest life, have moved one’s heart, as it must move +all who look upon it now, a ruin. GOD be thanked: a ruin!<br> +<br> +As it tops the other ruins: standing there, a mountain among graves: +so do its ancient influences outlive all other remnants of the old mythology +and old butchery of Rome, in the nature of the fierce and cruel Roman +people. The Italian face changes as the visitor approaches the +city; its beauty becomes devilish; and there is scarcely one countenance +in a hundred, among the common people in the streets, that would not +be at home and happy in a renovated Coliseum to-morrow.<br> +<br> +Here was Rome indeed at last; and such a Rome as no one can imagine +in its full and awful grandeur! We wandered out upon the Appian +Way, and then went on, through miles of ruined tombs and broken walls, +with here and there a desolate and uninhabited house: past the Circus +of Romulus, where the course of the chariots, the stations of the judges, +competitors, and spectators, are yet as plainly to be seen as in old +time: past the tomb of Cecilia Metella: past all inclosure, hedge, or +stake, wall or fence: away upon the open Campagna, where on that side +of Rome, nothing is to be beheld but Ruin. Except where the distant +Apennines bound the view upon the left, the whole wide prospect is one +field of ruin. Broken aqueducts, left in the most picturesque +and beautiful clusters of arches; broken temples; broken tombs. +A desert of decay, sombre and desolate beyond all expression; and with +a history in every stone that strews the ground.<br> +<br> +<br> +On Sunday, the Pope assisted in the performance of High Mass at St. +Peter’s. The effect of the Cathedral on my mind, on that +second visit, was exactly what it was at first, and what it remains +after many visits. It is not religiously impressive or affecting. +It is an immense edifice, with no one point for the mind to rest upon; +and it tires itself with wandering round and round. The very purpose +of the place, is not expressed in anything you see there, unless you +examine its details - and all examination of details is incompatible +with the place itself. It might be a Pantheon, or a Senate House, +or a great architectural trophy, having no other object than an architectural +triumph. There is a black statue of St. Peter, to be sure, under +a red canopy; which is larger than life and which is constantly having +its great toe kissed by good Catholics. You cannot help seeing +that: it is so very prominent and popular. But it does not heighten +the effect of the temple, as a work of art; and it is not expressive +- to me at least - of its high purpose.<br> +<br> +A large space behind the altar, was fitted up with boxes, shaped like +those at the Italian Opera in England, but in their decoration much +more gaudy. In the centre of the kind of theatre thus railed off, +was a canopied dais with the Pope’s chair upon it. The pavement +was covered with a carpet of the brightest green; and what with this +green, and the intolerable reds and crimsons, and gold borders of the +hangings, the whole concern looked like a stupendous Bonbon. On +either side of the altar, was a large box for lady strangers. +These were filled with ladies in black dresses and black veils. +The gentlemen of the Pope’s guard, in red coats, leather breeches, +and jack-boots, guarded all this reserved space, with drawn swords that +were very flashy in every sense; and from the altar all down the nave, +a broad lane was kept clear by the Pope’s Swiss guard, who wear +a quaint striped surcoat, and striped tight legs, and carry halberds +like those which are usually shouldered by those theatrical supernumeraries, +who never <i>can</i> get off the stage fast enough, and who may be generally +observed to linger in the enemy’s camp after the open country, +held by the opposite forces, has been split up the middle by a convulsion +of Nature.<br> +<br> +I got upon the border of the green carpet, in company with a great many +other gentlemen, attired in black (no other passport is necessary), +and stood there at my ease, during the performance of Mass. The +singers were in a crib of wirework (like a large meat-safe or bird-cage) +in one corner; and sang most atrociously. All about the green +carpet, there was a slowly moving crowd of people: talking to each other: +staring at the Pope through eye-glasses; defrauding one another, in +moments of partial curiosity, out of precarious seats on the bases of +pillars: and grinning hideously at the ladies. Dotted here and +there, were little knots of friars (Frances-cáni, or Cappuccíni, +in their coarse brown dresses and peaked hoods) making a strange contrast +to the gaudy ecclesiastics of higher degree, and having their humility +gratified to the utmost, by being shouldered about, and elbowed right +and left, on all sides. Some of these had muddy sandals and umbrellas, +and stained garments: having trudged in from the country. The +faces of the greater part were as coarse and heavy as their dress; their +dogged, stupid, monotonous stare at all the glory and splendour, having +something in it, half miserable, and half ridiculous.<br> +<br> +Upon the green carpet itself, and gathered round the altar, was a perfect +army of cardinals and priests, in red, gold, purple, violet, white, +and fine linen. Stragglers from these, went to and fro among the +crowd, conversing two and two, or giving and receiving introductions, +and exchanging salutations; other functionaries in black gowns, and +other functionaries in court-dresses, were similarly engaged. +In the midst of all these, and stealthy Jesuits creeping in and out, +and the extreme restlessness of the Youth of England, who were perpetually +wandering about, some few steady persons in black cassocks, who had +knelt down with their faces to the wall, and were poring over their +missals, became, unintentionally, a sort of humane man-traps, and with +their own devout legs, tripped up other people’s by the dozen.<br> +<br> +There was a great pile of candles lying down on the floor near me, which +a very old man in a rusty black gown with an open-work tippet, like +a summer ornament for a fireplace in tissue-paper, made himself very +busy in dispensing to all the ecclesiastics: one a-piece. They +loitered about with these for some time, under their arms like walking-sticks, +or in their hands like truncheons. At a certain period of the +ceremony, however, each carried his candle up to the Pope, laid it across +his two knees to be blessed, took it back again, and filed off. +This was done in a very attenuated procession, as you may suppose, and +occupied a long time. Not because it takes long to bless a candle +through and through, but because there were so many candles to be blessed. +At last they were all blessed: and then they were all lighted; and then +the Pope was taken up, chair and all, and carried round the church.<br> +<br> +I must say, that I never saw anything, out of November, so like the +popular English commemoration of the fifth of that month. A bundle +of matches and a lantern, would have made it perfect. Nor did +the Pope, himself, at all mar the resemblance, though he has a pleasant +and venerable face; for, as this part of the ceremony makes him giddy +and sick, he shuts his eyes when it is performed: and having his eyes +shut and a great mitre on his head, and his head itself wagging to and +fro as they shook him in carrying, he looked as if his mask were going +to tumble off. The two immense fans which are always borne, one +on either side of him, accompanied him, of course, on this occasion. +As they carried him along, he blessed the people with the mystic sign; +and as he passed them, they kneeled down. When he had made the +round of the church, he was brought back again, and if I am not mistaken, +this performance was repeated, in the whole, three times. There +was, certainly nothing solemn or effective in it; and certainly very +much that was droll and tawdry. But this remark applies to the +whole ceremony, except the raising of the Host, when every man in the +guard dropped on one knee instantly, and dashed his naked sword on the +ground; which had a fine effect.<br> +<br> +The next time I saw the cathedral, was some two or three weeks afterwards, +when I climbed up into the ball; and then, the hangings being taken +down, and the carpet taken up, but all the framework left, the remnants +of these decorations looked like an exploded cracker.<br> +<br> +The Friday and Saturday having been solemn Festa days, and Sunday being +always a <i>dies non</i> in carnival proceedings, we had looked forward, +with some impatience and curiosity, to the beginning of the new week: +Monday and Tuesday being the two last and best days of the Carnival.<br> +<br> +On the Monday afternoon at one or two o’clock, there began to +be a great rattling of carriages into the court-yard of the hotel; a +hurrying to and fro of all the servants in it; and, now and then, a +swift shooting across some doorway or balcony, of a straggling stranger +in a fancy dress: not yet sufficiently well used to the same, to wear +it with confidence, and defy public opinion. All the carriages +were open, and had the linings carefully covered with white cotton or +calico, to prevent their proper decorations from being spoiled by the +incessant pelting of sugar-plums; and people were packing and cramming +into every vehicle as it waited for its occupants, enormous sacks and +baskets full of these confétti, together with such heaps of flowers, +tied up in little nosegays, that some carriages were not only brimful +of flowers, but literally running over: scattering, at every shake and +jerk of the springs, some of their abundance on the ground. Not +to be behindhand in these essential particulars, we caused two very +respectable sacks of sugar-plums (each about three feet high) and a +large clothes-basket full of flowers to be conveyed into our hired barouche, +with all speed. And from our place of observation, in one of the +upper balconies of the hotel, we contemplated these arrangements with +the liveliest satisfaction. The carriages now beginning to take +up their company, and move away, we got into ours, and drove off too, +armed with little wire masks for our faces; the sugar-plums, like Falstaff’s +adulterated sack, having lime in their composition.<br> +<br> +The Corso is a street a mile long; a street of shops, and palaces, and +private houses, sometimes opening into a broad piazza. There are +verandahs and balconies, of all shapes and sizes, to almost every house +- not on one story alone, but often to one room or another on every +story - put there in general with so little order or regularity, that +if, year after year, and season after season, it had rained balconies, +hailed balconies, snowed balconies, blown balconies, they could scarcely +have come into existence in a more disorderly manner.<br> +<br> +This is the great fountain-head and focus of the Carnival. But +all the streets in which the Carnival is held, being vigilantly kept +by dragoons, it is necessary for carriages, in the first instance, to +pass, in line, down another thoroughfare, and so come into the Corso +at the end remote from the Piázza del Popolo; which is one of +its terminations. Accordingly, we fell into the string of coaches, +and, for some time, jogged on quietly enough; now crawling on at a very +slow walk; now trotting half-a-dozen yards; now backing fifty; and now +stopping altogether: as the pressure in front obliged us. If any +impetuous carriage dashed out of the rank and clattered forward, with +the wild idea of getting on faster, it was suddenly met, or overtaken, +by a trooper on horseback, who, deaf as his own drawn sword to all remonstrances, +immediately escorted it back to the very end of the row, and made it +a dim speck in the remotest perspective. Occasionally, we interchanged +a volley of confétti with the carriage next in front, or the +carriage next behind; but as yet, this capturing of stray and errant +coaches by the military, was the chief amusement.<br> +<br> +Presently, we came into a narrow street, where, besides one line of +carriages going, there was another line of carriages returning. +Here the sugar-plums and the nosegays began to fly about, pretty smartly; +and I was fortunate enough to observe one gentleman attired as a Greek +warrior, catch a light-whiskered brigand on the nose (he was in the +very act of tossing up a bouquet to a young lady in a first-floor window) +with a precision that was much applauded by the bystanders. As +this victorious Greek was exchanging a facetious remark with a stout +gentleman in a doorway - one-half black and one-half white, as if he +had been peeled up the middle - who had offered him his congratulations +on this achievement, he received an orange from a housetop, full on +his left ear, and was much surprised, not to say discomfited. +Especially, as he was standing up at the time; and in consequence of +the carriage moving on suddenly, at the same moment, staggered ignominiously, +and buried himself among his flowers.<br> +<br> +Some quarter of an hour of this sort of progress, brought us to the +Corso; and anything so gay, so bright, and lively as the whole scene +there, it would be difficult to imagine. From all the innumerable +balconies: from the remotest and highest, no less than from the lowest +and nearest: hangings of bright red, bright green, bright blue, white +and gold, were fluttering in the brilliant sunlight. From windows, +and from parapets, and tops of houses, streamers of the richest colours, +and draperies of the gaudiest and most sparkling hues, were floating +out upon the street. The buildings seemed to have been literally +turned inside out, and to have all their gaiety towards the highway. +Shop-fronts were taken down, and the windows filled with company, like +boxes at a shining theatre; doors were carried off their hinges, and +long tapestried groves, hung with garlands of flowers and evergreens, +displayed within; builders’ scaffoldings were gorgeous temples, +radiant in silver, gold, and crimson; and in every nook and corner, +from the pavement to the chimney-tops, where women’s eyes could +glisten, there they danced, and laughed, and sparkled, like the light +in water. Every sort of bewitching madness of dress was there. +Little preposterous scarlet jackets; quaint old stomachers, more wicked +than the smartest bodices; Polish pelisses, strained and tight as ripe +gooseberries; tiny Greek caps, all awry, and clinging to the dark hair, +Heaven knows how; every wild, quaint, bold, shy, pettish, madcap fancy +had its illustration in a dress; and every fancy was as dead forgotten +by its owner, in the tumult of merriment, as if the three old aqueducts +that still remain entire had brought Lethe into Rome, upon their sturdy +arches, that morning.<br> +<br> +The carriages were now three abreast; in broader places four; often +stationary for a long time together, always one close mass of variegated +brightness; showing, the whole street-full, through the storm of flowers, +like flowers of a larger growth themselves. In some, the horses +were richly caparisoned in magnificent trappings; in others they were +decked from head to tail, with flowing ribbons. Some were driven +by coachmen with enormous double faces: one face leering at the horses: +the other cocking its extraordinary eyes into the carriage: and both +rattling again, under the hail of sugar-plums. Other drivers were +attired as women, wearing long ringlets and no bonnets, and looking +more ridiculous in any real difficulty with the horses (of which, in +such a concourse, there were a great many) than tongue can tell, or +pen describe. Instead of sitting <i>in</i> the carriages, upon +the seats, the handsome Roman women, to see and to be seen the better, +sit in the heads of the barouches, at this time of general licence, +with their feet upon the cushions - and oh, the flowing skirts and dainty +waists, the blessed shapes and laughing faces, the free, good-humoured, +gallant figures that they make! There were great vans, too, full of +handsome girls - thirty, or more together, perhaps - and the broadsides +that were poured into, and poured out of, these fairy fire-shops, splashed +the air with flowers and bon-bons for ten minutes at a time. Carriages, +delayed long in one place, would begin a deliberate engagement with +other carriages, or with people at the lower windows; and the spectators +at some upper balcony or window, joining in the fray, and attacking +both parties, would empty down great bags of confétti, that descended +like a cloud, and in an instant made them white as millers. Still, +carriages on carriages, dresses on dresses, colours on colours, crowds +upon crowds, without end. Men and boys clinging to the wheels +of coaches, and holding on behind, and following in their wake, and +diving in among the horses’ feet to pick up scattered flowers +to sell again; maskers on foot (the drollest generally) in fantastic +exaggerations of court-dresses, surveying the throng through enormous +eye-glasses, and always transported with an ecstasy of love, on the +discovery of any particularly old lady at a window; long strings of +Policinelli, laying about them with blown bladders at the ends of sticks; +a waggon-full of madmen, screaming and tearing to the life; a coach-full +of grave mamelukes, with their horse-tail standard set up in the midst; +a party of gipsy-women engaged in terrific conflict with a shipful of +sailors; a man-monkey on a pole, surrounded by strange animals with +pigs’ faces, and lions’ tails, carried under their arms, +or worn gracefully over their shoulders; carriages on carriages, dresses +on dresses, colours on colours, crowds upon crowds, without end. +Not many actual characters sustained, or represented, perhaps, considering +the number dressed, but the main pleasure of the scene consisting in +its perfect good temper; in its bright, and infinite, and flashing variety; +and in its entire abandonment to the mad humour of the time - an abandonment +so perfect, so contagious, so irresistible, that the steadiest foreigner +fights up to his middle in flowers and sugar-plums, like the wildest +Roman of them all, and thinks of nothing else till half-past four o’clock, +when he is suddenly reminded (to his great regret) that this is not +the whole business of his existence, by hearing the trumpets sound, +and seeing the dragoons begin to clear the street.<br> +<br> +How it ever <i>is</i> cleared for the race that takes place at five, +or how the horses ever go through the race, without going over the people, +is more than I can say. But the carriages get out into the by-streets, +or up into the Piázza del Popolo, and some people sit in temporary +galleries in the latter place, and tens of thousands line the Corso +on both sides, when the horses are brought out into the Piázza +- to the foot of that same column which, for centuries, looked down +upon the games and chariot-races in the Circus Maximus.<br> +<br> +At a given signal they are started off. Down the live lane, the +whole length of the Corso, they fly like the wind: riderless, as all +the world knows: with shining ornaments upon their backs, and twisted +in their plaited manes: and with heavy little balls stuck full of spikes, +dangling at their sides, to goad them on. The jingling of these +trappings, and the rattling of their hoofs upon the hard stones; the +dash and fury of their speed along the echoing street; nay, the very +cannon that are fired - these noises are nothing to the roaring of the +multitude: their shouts: the clapping of their hands. But it is +soon over - almost instantaneously. More cannon shake the town. +The horses have plunged into the carpets put across the street to stop +them; the goal is reached; the prizes are won (they are given, in part, +by the poor Jews, as a compromise for not running foot-races themselves); +and there is an end to that day’s sport.<br> +<br> +But if the scene be bright, and gay, and crowded, on the last day but +one, it attains, on the concluding day, to such a height of glittering +colour, swarming life, and frolicsome uproar, that the bare recollection +of it makes me giddy at this moment. The same diversions, greatly +heightened and intensified in the ardour with which they are pursued, +go on until the same hour. The race is repeated; the cannon are +fired; the shouting and clapping of hands are renewed; the cannon are +fired again; the race is over; and the prizes are won. But the +carriages: ankle-deep with sugar-plums within, and so be-flowered and +dusty without, as to be hardly recognisable for the same vehicles that +they were, three hours ago: instead of scampering off in all directions, +throng into the Corso, where they are soon wedged together in a scarcely +moving mass. For the diversion of the Moccoletti, the last gay +madness of the Carnival, is now at hand; and sellers of little tapers +like what are called Christmas candles in England, are shouting lustily +on every side, ‘Moccoli, Moccoli! Ecco Moccoli!’ - +a new item in the tumult; quite abolishing that other item of ‘ +Ecco Fióri! Ecco Fior-r-r!’ which has been making +itself audible over all the rest, at intervals, the whole day through.<br> +<br> +As the bright hangings and dresses are all fading into one dull, heavy, +uniform colour in the decline of the day, lights begin flashing, here +and there: in the windows, on the housetops, in the balconies, in the +carriages, in the hands of the foot-passengers: little by little: gradually, +gradually: more and more: until the whole long street is one great glare +and blaze of fire. Then, everybody present has but one engrossing +object; that is, to extinguish other people’s candles, and to +keep his own alight; and everybody: man, woman, or child, gentleman +or lady, prince or peasant, native or foreigner: yells and screams, +and roars incessantly, as a taunt to the subdued, ‘Senza Moccolo, +Senza Moccolo!’ (Without a light! Without a light!) +until nothing is heard but a gigantic chorus of those two words, mingled +with peals of laughter.<br> +<br> +The spectacle, at this time, is one of the most extraordinary that can +be imagined. Carriages coming slowly by, with everybody standing +on the seats or on the box, holding up their lights at arms’ length, +for greater safety; some in paper shades; some with a bunch of undefended +little tapers, kindled altogether; some with blazing torches; some with +feeble little candles; men on foot, creeping along, among the wheels, +watching their opportunity, to make a spring at some particular light, +and dash it out; other people climbing up into carriages, to get hold +of them by main force; others, chasing some unlucky wanderer, round +and round his own coach, to blow out the light he has begged or stolen +somewhere, before he can ascend to his own company, and enable them +to light their extinguished tapers; others, with their hats off, at +a carriage-door, humbly beseeching some kind-hearted lady to oblige +them with a light for a cigar, and when she is in the fulness of doubt +whether to comply or no, blowing out the candle she is guarding so tenderly +with her little hand; other people at the windows, fishing for candles +with lines and hooks, or letting down long willow-wands with handkerchiefs +at the end, and flapping them out, dexterously, when the bearer is at +the height of his triumph, others, biding their time in corners, with +immense extinguishers like halberds, and suddenly coming down upon glorious +torches; others, gathered round one coach, and sticking to it; others, +raining oranges and nosegays at an obdurate little lantern, or regularly +storming a pyramid of men, holding up one man among them, who carries +one feeble little wick above his head, with which he defies them all! +Senza Moccolo! Senza Moccolo! Beautiful women, standing +up in coaches, pointing in derision at extinguished lights, and clapping +their hands, as they pass on, crying, ‘Senza Moccolo! Senza +Moccolo!’; low balconies full of lovely faces and gay dresses, +struggling with assailants in the streets; some repressing them as they +climb up, some bending down, some leaning over, some shrinking back +- delicate arms and bosoms - graceful figures - glowing lights, fluttering +dresses, Senza Moccolo, Senza Moccoli, Senza Moc-co-lo-o-o-o! - when +in the wildest enthusiasm of the cry, and fullest ecstasy of the sport, +the Ave Maria rings from the church steeples, and the Carnival is over +in an instant - put out like a taper, with a breath!<br> +<br> +There was a masquerade at the theatre at night, as dull and senseless +as a London one, and only remarkable for the summary way in which the +house was cleared at eleven o’clock: which was done by a line +of soldiers forming along the wall, at the back of the stage, and sweeping +the whole company out before them, like a broad broom. The game +of the Moccoletti (the word, in the singular, Moccoletto, is the diminutive +of Moccolo, and means a little lamp or candlesnuff) is supposed by some +to be a ceremony of burlesque mourning for the death of the Carnival: +candles being indispensable to Catholic grief. But whether it +be so, or be a remnant of the ancient Saturnalia, or an incorporation +of both, or have its origin in anything else, I shall always remember +it, and the frolic, as a brilliant and most captivating sight: no less +remarkable for the unbroken good-humour of all concerned, down to the +very lowest (and among those who scaled the carriages, were many of +the commonest men and boys), than for its innocent vivacity. For, +odd as it may seem to say so, of a sport so full of thoughtlessness +and personal display, it is as free from any taint of immodesty as any +general mingling of the two sexes can possibly be; and there seems to +prevail, during its progress, a feeling of general, almost childish, +simplicity and confidence, which one thinks of with a pang, when the +Ave Maria has rung it away, for a whole year.<br> +<br> +<br> +Availing ourselves of a part of the quiet interval between the termination +of the Carnival and the beginning of the Holy Week: when everybody had +run away from the one, and few people had yet begun to run back again +for the other: we went conscientiously to work, to see Rome. And, +by dint of going out early every morning, and coming back late every +evening, and labouring hard all day, I believe we made acquaintance +with every post and pillar in the city, and the country round; and, +in particular, explored so many churches, that I abandoned that part +of the enterprise at last, before it was half finished, lest I should +never, of my own accord, go to church again, as long as I lived. +But, I managed, almost every day, at one time or other, to get back +to the Coliseum, and out upon the open Campagna, beyond the Tomb of +Cecilia Metella.<br> +<br> +We often encountered, in these expeditions, a company of English Tourists, +with whom I had an ardent, but ungratified longing, to establish a speaking +acquaintance. They were one Mr. Davis, and a small circle of friends. +It was impossible not to know Mrs. Davis’s name, from her being +always in great request among her party, and her party being everywhere. +During the Holy Week, they were in every part of every scene of every +ceremony. For a fortnight or three weeks before it, they were +in every tomb, and every church, and every ruin, and every Picture Gallery; +and I hardly ever observed Mrs. Davis to be silent for a moment. +Deep underground, high up in St. Peter’s, out on the Campagna, +and stifling in the Jews’ quarter, Mrs. Davis turned up, all the +same. I don’t think she ever saw anything, or ever looked +at anything; and she had always lost something out of a straw hand-basket, +and was trying to find it, with all her might and main, among an immense +quantity of English halfpence, which lay, like sands upon the sea-shore, +at the bottom of it. There was a professional Cicerone always +attached to the party (which had been brought over from London, fifteen +or twenty strong, by contract), and if he so much as looked at Mrs. +Davis, she invariably cut him short by saying, ‘There, God bless +the man, don’t worrit me! I don’t understand a word +you say, and shouldn’t if you was to talk till you was black in +the face!’ Mr. Davis always had a snuff-coloured great-coat +on, and carried a great green umbrella in his hand, and had a slow curiosity +constantly devouring him, which prompted him to do extraordinary things, +such as taking the covers off urns in tombs, and looking in at the ashes +as if they were pickles - and tracing out inscriptions with the ferrule +of his umbrella, and saying, with intense thoughtfulness, ‘Here’s +a B you see, and there’s a R, and this is the way we goes on in; +is it!’ His antiquarian habits occasioned his being frequently +in the rear of the rest; and one of the agonies of Mrs. Davis, and the +party in general, was an ever-present fear that Davis would be lost. +This caused them to scream for him, in the strangest places, and at +the most improper seasons. And when he came, slowly emerging out +of some sepulchre or other, like a peaceful Ghoule, saying ‘Here +I am!’ Mrs. Davis invariably replied, ‘You’ll be buried +alive in a foreign country, Davis, and it’s no use trying to prevent +you!’<br> +<br> +Mr. and Mrs. Davis, and their party, had, probably, been brought from +London in about nine or ten days. Eighteen hundred years ago, +the Roman legions under Claudius, protested against being led into Mr. +and Mrs. Davis’s country, urging that it lay beyond the limits +of the world.<br> +<br> +Among what may be called the Cubs or minor Lions of Rome, there was +one that amused me mightily. It is always to be found there; and +its den is on the great flight of steps that lead from the Piazza di +Spágna, to the church of Trínita del Monte. In plainer +words, these steps are the great place of resort for the artists’ +‘Models,’ and there they are constantly waiting to be hired. +The first time I went up there, I could not conceive why the faces seemed +familiar to me; why they appeared to have beset me, for years, in every +possible variety of action and costume; and how it came to pass that +they started up before me, in Rome, in the broad day, like so many saddled +and bridled nightmares. I soon found that we had made acquaintance, +and improved it, for several years, on the walls of various Exhibition +Galleries. There is one old gentleman, with long white hair and +an immense beard, who, to my knowledge, has gone half through the catalogue +of the Royal Academy. This is the venerable, or patriarchal model. +He carries a long staff; and every knot and twist in that staff I have +seen, faithfully delineated, innumerable times. There is another +man in a blue cloak, who always pretends to be asleep in the sun (when +there is any), and who, I need not say, is always very wide awake, and +very attentive to the disposition of his legs. This is the <i>dolce +far’ niente</i> model. There is another man in a brown cloak, +who leans against a wall, with his arms folded in his mantle, and looks +out of the corners of his eyes: which are just visible beneath his broad +slouched hat. This is the assassin model. There is another +man, who constantly looks over his own shoulder, and is always going +away, but never does. This is the haughty, or scornful model. +As to Domestic Happiness, and Holy Families, they should come very cheap, +for there are lumps of them, all up the steps; and the cream of the +thing is, that they are all the falsest vagabonds in the world, especially +made up for the purpose, and having no counterparts in Rome or any other +part of the habitable globe.<br> +<br> +My recent mention of the Carnival, reminds me of its being said to be +a mock mourning (in the ceremony with which it closes), for the gaieties +and merry-makings before Lent; and this again reminds me of the real +funerals and mourning processions of Rome, which, like those in most +other parts of Italy, are rendered chiefly remarkable to a Foreigner, +by the indifference with which the mere clay is universally regarded, +after life has left it. And this is not from the survivors having +had time to dissociate the memory of the dead from their well-remembered +appearance and form on earth; for the interment follows too speedily +after death, for that: almost always taking place within four-and-twenty +hours, and, sometimes, within twelve.<br> +<br> +At Rome, there is the same arrangement of Pits in a great, bleak, open, +dreary space, that I have already described as existing in Genoa. +When I visited it, at noonday, I saw a solitary coffin of plain deal: +uncovered by any shroud or pall, and so slightly made, that the hoof +of any wandering mule would have crushed it in: carelessly tumbled down, +all on one side, on the door of one of the pits - and there left, by +itself, in the wind and sunshine. ‘How does it come to be +left here?’ I asked the man who showed me the place. ‘It +was brought here half an hour ago, Signore,’ he said. I +remembered to have met the procession, on its return: straggling away +at a good round pace. ‘When will it be put in the pit?’ +I asked him. ‘When the cart comes, and it is opened to-night,’ +he said. ‘How much does it cost to be brought here in this +way, instead of coming in the cart?’ I asked him. ‘Ten +scudi,’ he said (about two pounds, two-and-sixpence, English). +‘The other bodies, for whom nothing is paid, are taken to the +church of the Santa Maria della Consolázione,’ he continued, +‘and brought here altogether, in the cart at night.’ +I stood, a moment, looking at the coffin, which had two initial letters +scrawled upon the top; and turned away, with an expression in my face, +I suppose, of not much liking its exposure in that manner: for he said, +shrugging his shoulders with great vivacity, and giving a pleasant smile, +‘But he’s dead, Signore, he’s dead. Why not?’<br> +<br> +<br> +Among the innumerable churches, there is one I must select for separate +mention. It is the church of the Ara Coeli, supposed to be built +on the site of the old Temple of Jupiter Feretrius; and approached, +on one side, by a long steep flight of steps, which seem incomplete +without some group of bearded soothsayers on the top. It is remarkable +for the possession of a miraculous Bambíno, or wooden doll, representing +the Infant Saviour; and I first saw this miraculous Bambíno, +in legal phrase, in manner following, that is to say:<br> +<br> +We had strolled into the church one afternoon, and were looking down +its long vista of gloomy pillars (for all these ancient churches built +upon the ruins of old temples, are dark and sad), when the Brave came +running in, with a grin upon his face that stretched it from ear to +ear, and implored us to follow him, without a moment’s delay, +as they were going to show the Bambíno to a select party. +We accordingly hurried off to a sort of chapel, or sacristy, hard by +the chief altar, but not in the church itself, where the select party, +consisting of two or three Catholic gentlemen and ladies (not Italians), +were already assembled: and where one hollow-cheeked young monk was +lighting up divers candles, while another was putting on some clerical +robes over his coarse brown habit. The candles were on a kind +of altar, and above it were two delectable figures, such as you would +see at any English fair, representing the Holy Virgin, and Saint Joseph, +as I suppose, bending in devotion over a wooden box, or coffer; which +was shut.<br> +<br> +The hollow-cheeked monk, number One, having finished lighting the candles, +went down on his knees, in a corner, before this set-piece; and the +monk number Two, having put on a pair of highly ornamented and gold-bespattered +gloves, lifted down the coffer, with great reverence, and set it on +the altar. Then, with many genuflexions, and muttering certain +prayers, he opened it, and let down the front, and took off sundry coverings +of satin and lace from the inside. The ladies had been on their +knees from the commencement; and the gentlemen now dropped down devoutly, +as he exposed to view a little wooden doll, in face very like General +Tom Thumb, the American Dwarf: gorgeously dressed in satin and gold +lace, and actually blazing with rich jewels. There was scarcely +a spot upon its little breast, or neck, or stomach, but was sparkling +with the costly offerings of the Faithful. Presently, he lifted +it out of the box, and carrying it round among the kneelers, set its +face against the forehead of every one, and tendered its clumsy foot +to them to kiss - a ceremony which they all performed down to a dirty +little ragamuffin of a boy who had walked in from the street. +When this was done, he laid it in the box again: and the company, rising, +drew near, and commended the jewels in whispers. In good time, +he replaced the coverings, shut up the box, put it back in its place, +locked up the whole concern (Holy Family and all) behind a pair of folding-doors; +took off his priestly vestments; and received the customary ‘small +charge,’ while his companion, by means of an extinguisher fastened +to the end of a long stick, put out the lights, one after another. +The candles being all extinguished, and the money all collected, they +retired, and so did the spectators.<br> +<br> +I met this same Bambíno, in the street a short time afterwards, +going, in great state, to the house of some sick person. It is +taken to all parts of Rome for this purpose, constantly; but, I understand +that it is not always as successful as could be wished; for, making +its appearance at the bedside of weak and nervous people in extremity, +accompanied by a numerous escort, it not unfrequently frightens them +to death. It is most popular in cases of child-birth, where it +has done such wonders, that if a lady be longer than usual in getting +through her difficulties, a messenger is despatched, with all speed, +to solicit the immediate attendance of the Bambíno. It +is a very valuable property, and much confided in - especially by the +religious body to whom it belongs.<br> +<br> +I am happy to know that it is not considered immaculate, by some who +are good Catholics, and who are behind the scenes, from what was told +me by the near relation of a Priest, himself a Catholic, and a gentleman +of learning and intelligence. This Priest made my informant promise +that he would, on no account, allow the Bambíno to be borne into +the bedroom of a sick lady, in whom they were both interested. +‘For,’ said he, ‘if they (the monks) trouble her with +it, and intrude themselves into her room, it will certainly kill her.’ +My informant accordingly looked out of the window when it came; and, +with many thanks, declined to open the door. He endeavoured, in +another case of which he had no other knowledge than such as he gained +as a passer-by at the moment, to prevent its being carried into a small +unwholesome chamber, where a poor girl was dying. But, he strove +against it unsuccessfully, and she expired while the crowd were pressing +round her bed.<br> +<br> +Among the people who drop into St. Peter’s at their leisure, to +kneel on the pavement, and say a quiet prayer, there are certain schools +and seminaries, priestly and otherwise, that come in, twenty or thirty +strong. These boys always kneel down in single file, one behind +the other, with a tall grim master in a black gown, bringing up the +rear: like a pack of cards arranged to be tumbled down at a touch, with +a disproportionately large Knave of clubs at the end. When they +have had a minute or so at the chief altar, they scramble up, and filing +off to the chapel of the Madonna, or the sacrament, flop down again +in the same order; so that if anybody did stumble against the master, +a general and sudden overthrow of the whole line must inevitably ensue.<br> +<br> +The scene in all the churches is the strangest possible. The same +monotonous, heartless, drowsy chaunting, always going on; the same dark +building, darker from the brightness of the street without; the same +lamps dimly burning; the selfsame people kneeling here and there; turned +towards you, from one altar or other, the same priest’s back, +with the same large cross embroidered on it; however different in size, +in shape, in wealth, in architecture, this church is from that, it is +the same thing still. There are the same dirty beggars stopping +in their muttered prayers to beg; the same miserable cripples exhibiting +their deformity at the doors; the same blind men, rattling little pots +like kitchen pepper-castors: their depositories for alms; the same preposterous +crowns of silver stuck upon the painted heads of single saints and Virgins +in crowded pictures, so that a little figure on a mountain has a head-dress +bigger than the temple in the foreground, or adjacent miles of landscape; +the same favourite shrine or figure, smothered with little silver hearts +and crosses, and the like: the staple trade and show of all the jewellers; +the same odd mixture of respect and indecorum, faith and phlegm: kneeling +on the stones, and spitting on them, loudly; getting up from prayers +to beg a little, or to pursue some other worldly matter: and then kneeling +down again, to resume the contrite supplication at the point where it +was interrupted. In one church, a kneeling lady got up from her +prayer, for a moment, to offer us her card, as a teacher of Music; and +in another, a sedate gentleman with a very thick walking-staff, arose +from his devotions to belabour his dog, who was growling at another +dog: and whose yelps and howls resounded through the church, as his +master quietly relapsed into his former train of meditation - keeping +his eye upon the dog, at the same time, nevertheless.<br> +<br> +Above all, there is always a receptacle for the contributions of the +Faithful, in some form or other. Sometimes, it is a money-box, +set up between the worshipper, and the wooden life-size figure of the +Redeemer; sometimes, it is a little chest for the maintenance of the +Virgin; sometimes, an appeal on behalf of a popular Bambíno; +sometimes, a bag at the end of a long stick, thrust among the people +here and there, and vigilantly jingled by an active Sacristan; but there +it always is, and, very often, in many shapes in the same church, and +doing pretty well in all. Nor, is it wanting in the open air - +the streets and roads - for, often as you are walking along, thinking +about anything rather than a tin canister, that object pounces out upon +you from a little house by the wayside; and on its top is painted, ‘For +the Souls in Purgatory;’ an appeal which the bearer repeats a +great many times, as he rattles it before you, much as Punch rattles +the cracked bell which his sanguine disposition makes an organ of.<br> +<br> +And this reminds me that some Roman altars of peculiar sanctity, bear +the inscription, ‘Every Mass performed at this altar frees a soul +from Purgatory.’ I have never been able to find out the +charge for one of these services, but they should needs be expensive. +There are several Crosses in Rome too, the kissing of which, confers +indulgences for varying terms. That in the centre of the Coliseum, +is worth a hundred days; and people may be seen kissing it from morning +to night. It is curious that some of these crosses seem to acquire +an arbitrary popularity: this very one among them. In another +part of the Coliseum there is a cross upon a marble slab, with the inscription, +‘Who kisses this cross shall be entitled to Two hundred and forty +days’ indulgence.’ But I saw no one person kiss it, +though, day after day, I sat in the arena, and saw scores upon scores +of peasants pass it, on their way to kiss the other.<br> +<br> +To single out details from the great dream of Roman Churches, would +be the wildest occupation in the world. But St. Stefano Rotondo, +a damp, mildewed vault of an old church in the outskirts of Rome, will +always struggle uppermost in my mind, by reason of the hideous paintings +with which its walls are covered. These represent the martyrdoms +of saints and early Christians; and such a panorama of horror and butchery +no man could imagine in his sleep, though he were to eat a whole pig +raw, for supper. Grey-bearded men being boiled, fried, grilled, +crimped, singed, eaten by wild beasts, worried by dogs, buried alive, +torn asunder by horses, chopped up small with hatchets: women having +their breasts torn with iron pinchers, their tongues cut out, their +ears screwed off, their jaws broken, their bodies stretched upon the +rack, or skinned upon the stake, or crackled up and melted in the fire: +these are among the mildest subjects. So insisted on, and laboured +at, besides, that every sufferer gives you the same occasion for wonder +as poor old Duncan awoke, in Lady Macbeth, when she marvelled at his +having so much blood in him.<br> +<br> +There is an upper chamber in the Mamertine prisons, over what is said +to have been - and very possibly may have been - the dungeon of St. +Peter. This chamber is now fitted up as an oratory, dedicated +to that saint; and it lives, as a distinct and separate place, in my +recollection, too. It is very small and low-roofed; and the dread +and gloom of the ponderous, obdurate old prison are on it, as if they +had come up in a dark mist through the floor. Hanging on the walls, +among the clustered votive offerings, are objects, at once strangely +in keeping, and strangely at variance, with the place - rusty daggers, +knives, pistols, clubs, divers instruments of violence and murder, brought +here, fresh from use, and hung up to propitiate offended Heaven: as +if the blood upon them would drain off in consecrated air, and have +no voice to cry with. It is all so silent and so close, and tomb-like; +and the dungeons below are so black and stealthy, and stagnant, and +naked; that this little dark spot becomes a dream within a dream: and +in the vision of great churches which come rolling past me like a sea, +it is a small wave by itself, that melts into no other wave, and does +not flow on with the rest.<br> +<br> +It is an awful thing to think of the enormous caverns that are entered +from some Roman churches, and undermine the city. Many churches +have crypts and subterranean chapels of great size, which, in the ancient +time, were baths, and secret chambers of temples, and what not: but +I do not speak of them. Beneath the church of St. Giovanni and +St. Paolo, there are the jaws of a terrific range of caverns, hewn out +of the rock, and said to have another outlet underneath the Coliseum +- tremendous darknesses of vast extent, half-buried in the earth and +unexplorable, where the dull torches, flashed by the attendants, glimmer +down long ranges of distant vaults branching to the right and left, +like streets in a city of the dead; and show the cold damp stealing +down the walls, drip-drop, drip-drop, to join the pools of water that +lie here and there, and never saw, or never will see, one ray of the +sun. Some accounts make these the prisons of the wild beasts destined +for the amphitheatre; some the prisons of the condemned gladiators; +some, both. But the legend most appalling to the fancy is, that +in the upper range (for there are two stories of these caves) the Early +Christians destined to be eaten at the Coliseum Shows, heard the wild +beasts, hungry for them, roaring down below; until, upon the night and +solitude of their captivity, there burst the sudden noon and life of +the vast theatre crowded to the parapet, and of these, their dreaded +neighbours, bounding in!<br> +<br> +Below the church of San Sebastiano, two miles beyond the gate of San +Sebastiano, on the Appian Way, is the entrance to the catacombs of Rome +- quarries in the old time, but afterwards the hiding-places of the +Christians. These ghastly passages have been explored for twenty +miles; and form a chain of labyrinths, sixty miles in circumference.<br> +<br> +A gaunt Franciscan friar, with a wild bright eye, was our only guide, +down into this profound and dreadful place. The narrow ways and +openings hither and thither, coupled with the dead and heavy air, soon +blotted out, in all of us, any recollection of the track by which we +had come: and I could not help thinking ‘Good Heaven, if, in a +sudden fit of madness, he should dash the torches out, or if he should +be seized with a fit, what would become of us!’ On we wandered, +among martyrs’ graves: passing great subterranean vaulted roads, +diverging in all directions, and choked up with heaps of stones, that +thieves and murderers may not take refuge there, and form a population +under Rome, even worse than that which lives between it and the sun. +Graves, graves, graves; Graves of men, of women, of their little children, +who ran crying to the persecutors, ‘We are Christians! We +are Christians!’ that they might be murdered with their parents; +Graves with the palm of martyrdom roughly cut into their stone boundaries, +and little niches, made to hold a vessel of the martyrs’ blood; +Graves of some who lived down here, for years together, ministering +to the rest, and preaching truth, and hope, and comfort, from the rude +altars, that bear witness to their fortitude at this hour; more roomy +graves, but far more terrible, where hundreds, being surprised, were +hemmed in and walled up: buried before Death, and killed by slow starvation.<br> +<br> +‘The Triumphs of the Faith are not above ground in our splendid +churches,’ said the friar, looking round upon us, as we stopped +to rest in one of the low passages, with bones and dust surrounding +us on every side. ‘They are here! Among the Martyrs’ +Graves!’ He was a gentle, earnest man, and said it from +his heart; but when I thought how Christian men have dealt with one +another; how, perverting our most merciful religion, they have hunted +down and tortured, burnt and beheaded, strangled, slaughtered, and oppressed +each other; I pictured to myself an agony surpassing any that this Dust +had suffered with the breath of life yet lingering in it, and how these +great and constant hearts would have been shaken - how they would have +quailed and drooped - if a foreknowledge of the deeds that professing +Christians would commit in the Great Name for which they died, could +have rent them with its own unutterable anguish, on the cruel wheel, +and bitter cross, and in the fearful fire.<br> +<br> +Such are the spots and patches in my dream of churches, that remain +apart, and keep their separate identity. I have a fainter recollection, +sometimes of the relics; of the fragments of the pillar of the Temple +that was rent in twain; of the portion of the table that was spread +for the Last Supper; of the well at which the woman of Samaria gave +water to Our Saviour; of two columns from the house of Pontius Pilate; +of the stone to which the Sacred hands were bound, when the scourging +was performed; of the grid-iron of Saint Lawrence, and the stone below +it, marked with the frying of his fat and blood; these set a shadowy +mark on some cathedrals, as an old story, or a fable might, and stop +them for an instant, as they flit before me. The rest is a vast +wilderness of consecrated buildings of all shapes and fancies, blending +one with another; of battered pillars of old Pagan temples, dug up from +the ground, and forced, like giant captives, to support the roofs of +Christian churches; of pictures, bad, and wonderful, and impious, and +ridiculous; of kneeling people, curling incense, tinkling bells, and +sometimes (but not often) of a swelling organ: of Madonne, with their +breasts stuck full of swords, arranged in a half-circle like a modern +fan; of actual skeletons of dead saints, hideously attired in gaudy +satins, silks, and velvets trimmed with gold: their withered crust of +skull adorned with precious jewels, or with chaplets of crushed flowers; +sometimes of people gathered round the pulpit, and a monk within it +stretching out the crucifix, and preaching fiercely: the sun just streaming +down through some high window on the sail-cloth stretched above him +and across the church, to keep his high-pitched voice from being lost +among the echoes of the roof. Then my tired memory comes out upon +a flight of steps, where knots of people are asleep, or basking in the +light; and strolls away, among the rags, and smells, and palaces, and +hovels, of an old Italian street.<br> +<br> +<br> +On one Saturday morning (the eighth of March), a man was beheaded here. +Nine or ten months before, he had waylaid a Bavarian countess, travelling +as a pilgrim to Rome - alone and on foot, of course - and performing, +it is said, that act of piety for the fourth time. He saw her +change a piece of gold at Viterbo, where he lived; followed her; bore +her company on her journey for some forty miles or more, on the treacherous +pretext of protecting her; attacked her, in the fulfilment of his unrelenting +purpose, on the Campagna, within a very short distance of Rome, near +to what is called (but what is not) the Tomb of Nero; robbed her; and +beat her to death with her own pilgrim’s staff. He was newly +married, and gave some of her apparel to his wife: saying that he had +bought it at a fair. She, however, who had seen the pilgrim-countess +passing through their town, recognised some trifle as having belonged +to her. Her husband then told her what he had done. She, +in confession, told a priest; and the man was taken, within four days +after the commission of the murder.<br> +<br> +There are no fixed times for the administration of justice, or its execution, +in this unaccountable country; and he had been in prison ever since. +On the Friday, as he was dining with the other prisoners, they came +and told him he was to be beheaded next morning, and took him away. +It is very unusual to execute in Lent; but his crime being a very bad +one, it was deemed advisable to make an example of him at that time, +when great numbers of pilgrims were coming towards Rome, from all parts, +for the Holy Week. I heard of this on the Friday evening, and +saw the bills up at the churches, calling on the people to pray for +the criminal’s soul. So, I determined to go, and see him +executed.<br> +<br> +The beheading was appointed for fourteen and a-half o’clock, Roman +time: or a quarter before nine in the forenoon. I had two friends +with me; and as we did not know but that the crowd might be very great, +we were on the spot by half-past seven. The place of execution +was near the church of San Giovanni decolláto (a doubtful compliment +to Saint John the Baptist) in one of the impassable back streets without +any footway, of which a great part of Rome is composed - a street of +rotten houses, which do not seem to belong to anybody, and do not seem +to have ever been inhabited, and certainly were never built on any plan, +or for any particular purpose, and have no window-sashes, and are a +little like deserted breweries, and might be warehouses but for having +nothing in them. Opposite to one of these, a white house, the +scaffold was built. An untidy, unpainted, uncouth, crazy-looking +thing of course: some seven feet high, perhaps: with a tall, gallows-shaped +frame rising above it, in which was the knife, charged with a ponderous +mass of iron, all ready to descend, and glittering brightly in the morning +sun, whenever it looked out, now and then, from behind a cloud.<br> +<br> +There were not many people lingering about; and these were kept at a +considerable distance from the scaffold, by parties of the Pope’s +dragoons. Two or three hundred foot-soldiers were under arms, +standing at ease in clusters here and there; and the officers were walking +up and down in twos and threes, chatting together, and smoking cigars.<br> +<br> +At the end of the street, was an open space, where there would be a +dust-heap, and piles of broken crockery, and mounds of vegetable refuse, +but for such things being thrown anywhere and everywhere in Rome, and +favouring no particular sort of locality. We got into a kind of +wash-house, belonging to a dwelling-house on this spot; and standing +there in an old cart, and on a heap of cartwheels piled against the +wall, looked, through a large grated window, at the scaffold, and straight +down the street beyond it until, in consequence of its turning off abruptly +to the left, our perspective was brought to a sudden termination, and +had a corpulent officer, in a cocked hat, for its crowning feature.<br> +<br> +Nine o’clock struck, and ten o’clock struck, and nothing +happened. All the bells of all the churches rang as usual. +A little parliament of dogs assembled in the open space, and chased +each other, in and out among the soldiers. Fierce-looking Romans +of the lowest class, in blue cloaks, russet cloaks, and rags uncloaked, +came and went, and talked together. Women and children fluttered, +on the skirts of the scanty crowd. One large muddy spot was left +quite bare, like a bald place on a man’s head. A cigar-merchant, +with an earthen pot of charcoal ashes in one hand, went up and down, +crying his wares. A pastry-merchant divided his attention between +the scaffold and his customers. Boys tried to climb up walls, +and tumbled down again. Priests and monks elbowed a passage for +themselves among the people, and stood on tiptoe for a sight of the +knife: then went away. Artists, in inconceivable hats of the middle-ages, +and beards (thank Heaven!) of no age at all, flashed picturesque scowls +about them from their stations in the throng. One gentleman (connected +with the fine arts, I presume) went up and down in a pair of Hessian-boots, +with a red beard hanging down on his breast, and his long and bright +red hair, plaited into two tails, one on either side of his head, which +fell over his shoulders in front of him, very nearly to his waist, and +were carefully entwined and braided!<br> +<br> +Eleven o’clock struck and still nothing happened. A rumour +got about, among the crowd, that the criminal would not confess; in +which case, the priests would keep him until the Ave Maria (sunset); +for it is their merciful custom never finally to turn the crucifix away +from a man at that pass, as one refusing to be shriven, and consequently +a sinner abandoned of the Saviour, until then. People began to +drop off. The officers shrugged their shoulders and looked doubtful. +The dragoons, who came riding up below our window, every now and then, +to order an unlucky hackney-coach or cart away, as soon as it had comfortably +established itself, and was covered with exulting people (but never +before), became imperious, and quick-tempered. The bald place +hadn’t a straggling hair upon it; and the corpulent officer, crowning +the perspective, took a world of snuff.<br> +<br> +Suddenly, there was a noise of trumpets. ‘Attention!’ +was among the foot-soldiers instantly. They were marched up to +the scaffold and formed round it. The dragoons galloped to their +nearer stations too. The guillotine became the centre of a wood +of bristling bayonets and shining sabres. The people closed round +nearer, on the flank of the soldiery. A long straggling stream +of men and boys, who had accompanied the procession from the prison, +came pouring into the open space. The bald spot was scarcely distinguishable +from the rest. The cigar and pastry-merchants resigned all thoughts +of business, for the moment, and abandoning themselves wholly to pleasure, +got good situations in the crowd. The perspective ended, now, +in a troop of dragoons. And the corpulent officer, sword in hand, +looked hard at a church close to him, which he could see, but we, the +crowd, could not.<br> +<br> +After a short delay, some monks were seen approaching to the scaffold +from this church; and above their heads, coming on slowly and gloomily, +the effigy of Christ upon the cross, canopied with black. This +was carried round the foot of the scaffold, to the front, and turned +towards the criminal, that he might see it to the last. It was +hardly in its place, when he appeared on the platform, bare-footed; +his hands bound; and with the collar and neck of his shirt cut away, +almost to the shoulder. A young man - six-and-twenty - vigorously +made, and well-shaped. Face pale; small dark moustache; and dark +brown hair.<br> +<br> +He had refused to confess, it seemed, without first having his wife +brought to see him; and they had sent an escort for her, which had occasioned +the delay.<br> +<br> +He immediately kneeled down, below the knife. His neck fitting +into a hole, made for the purpose, in a cross plank, was shut down, +by another plank above; exactly like the pillory. Immediately +below him was a leathern bag. And into it his head rolled instantly.<br> +<br> +The executioner was holding it by the hair, and walking with it round +the scaffold, showing it to the people, before one quite knew that the +knife had fallen heavily, and with a rattling sound.<br> +<br> +When it had travelled round the four sides of the scaffold, it was set +upon a pole in front - a little patch of black and white, for the long +street to stare at, and the flies to settle on. The eyes were +turned upward, as if he had avoided the sight of the leathern bag, and +looked to the crucifix. Every tinge and hue of life had left it +in that instant. It was dull, cold, livid, wax. The body +also.<br> +<br> +There was a great deal of blood. When we left the window, and +went close up to the scaffold, it was very dirty; one of the two men +who were throwing water over it, turning to help the other lift the +body into a shell, picked his way as through mire. A strange appearance +was the apparent annihilation of the neck. The head was taken +off so close, that it seemed as if the knife had narrowly escaped crushing +the jaw, or shaving off the ear; and the body looked as if there were +nothing left above the shoulder.<br> +<br> +Nobody cared, or was at all affected. There was no manifestation +of disgust, or pity, or indignation, or sorrow. My empty pockets +were tried, several times, in the crowd immediately below the scaffold, +as the corpse was being put into its coffin. It was an ugly, filthy, +careless, sickening spectacle; meaning nothing but butchery beyond the +momentary interest, to the one wretched actor. Yes! Such +a sight has one meaning and one warning. Let me not forget it. +The speculators in the lottery, station themselves at favourable points +for counting the gouts of blood that spirt out, here or there; and buy +that number. It is pretty sure to have a run upon it.<br> +<br> +The body was carted away in due time, the knife cleansed, the scaffold +taken down, and all the hideous apparatus removed. The executioner: +an outlaw <i>ex officio</i> (what a satire on the Punishment!) who dare +not, for his life, cross the Bridge of St. Angelo but to do his work: +retreated to his lair, and the show was over.<br> +<br> +<br> +At the head of the collections in the palaces of Rome, the Vatican, +of course, with its treasures of art, its enormous galleries, and staircases, +and suites upon suites of immense chambers, ranks highest and stands +foremost. Many most noble statues, and wonderful pictures, are +there; nor is it heresy to say that there is a considerable amount of +rubbish there, too. When any old piece of sculpture dug out of +the ground, finds a place in a gallery because it is old, and without +any reference to its intrinsic merits: and finds admirers by the hundred, +because it is there, and for no other reason on earth: there will be +no lack of objects, very indifferent in the plain eyesight of any one +who employs so vulgar a property, when he may wear the spectacles of +Cant for less than nothing, and establish himself as a man of taste +for the mere trouble of putting them on.<br> +<br> +I unreservedly confess, for myself, that I cannot leave my natural perception +of what is natural and true, at a palace-door, in Italy or elsewhere, +as I should leave my shoes if I were travelling in the East. I +cannot forget that there are certain expressions of face, natural to +certain passions, and as unchangeable in their nature as the gait of +a lion, or the flight of an eagle. I cannot dismiss from my certain +knowledge, such commonplace facts as the ordinary proportion of men’s +arms, and legs, and heads; and when I meet with performances that do +violence to these experiences and recollections, no matter where they +may be, I cannot honestly admire them, and think it best to say so; +in spite of high critical advice that we should sometimes feign an admiration, +though we have it not.<br> +<br> +Therefore, I freely acknowledge that when I see a jolly young Waterman +representing a cherubim, or a Barclay and Perkins’s Drayman depicted +as an Evangelist, I see nothing to commend or admire in the performance, +however great its reputed Painter. Neither am I partial to libellous +Angels, who play on fiddles and bassoons, for the edification of sprawling +monks apparently in liquor. Nor to those Monsieur Tonsons of galleries, +Saint Francis and Saint Sebastian; both of whom I submit should have +very uncommon and rare merits, as works of art, to justify their compound +multiplication by Italian Painters.<br> +<br> +It seems to me, too, that the indiscriminate and determined raptures +in which some critics indulge, is incompatible with the true appreciation +of the really great and transcendent works. I cannot imagine, +for example, how the resolute champion of undeserving pictures can soar +to the amazing beauty of Titian’s great picture of the Assumption +of the Virgin at Venice; or how the man who is truly affected by the +sublimity of that exquisite production, or who is truly sensible of +the beauty of Tintoretto’s great picture of the Assembly of the +Blessed in the same place, can discern in Michael Angelo’s Last +Judgment, in the Sistine chapel, any general idea, or one pervading +thought, in harmony with the stupendous subject. He who will contemplate +Raphael’s masterpiece, the Transfiguration, and will go away into +another chamber of that same Vatican, and contemplate another design +of Raphael, representing (in incredible caricature) the miraculous stopping +of a great fire by Leo the Fourth - and who will say that he admires +them both, as works of extraordinary genius - must, as I think, be wanting +in his powers of perception in one of the two instances, and, probably, +in the high and lofty one.<br> +<br> +It is easy to suggest a doubt, but I have a great doubt whether, sometimes, +the rules of art are not too strictly observed, and whether it is quite +well or agreeable that we should know beforehand, where this figure +will be turning round, and where that figure will be lying down, and +where there will be drapery in folds, and so forth. When I observe +heads inferior to the subject, in pictures of merit, in Italian galleries, +I do not attach that reproach to the Painter, for I have a suspicion +that these great men, who were, of necessity, very much in the hands +of monks and priests, painted monks and priests a great deal too often. +I frequently see, in pictures of real power, heads quite below the story +and the painter: and I invariably observe that those heads are of the +Convent stamp, and have their counterparts among the Convent inmates +of this hour; so, I have settled with myself that, in such cases, the +lameness was not with the painter, but with the vanity and ignorance +of certain of his employers, who would be apostles - on canvas, at all +events.<br> +<br> +The exquisite grace and beauty of Canova’s statues; the wonderful +gravity and repose of many of the ancient works in sculpture, both in +the Capitol and the Vatican; and the strength and fire of many others; +are, in their different ways, beyond all reach of words. They +are especially impressive and delightful, after the works of Bernini +and his disciples, in which the churches of Rome, from St. Peter’s +downward, abound; and which are, I verily believe, the most detestable +class of productions in the wide world. I would infinitely rather +(as mere works of art) look upon the three deities of the Past, the +Present, and the Future, in the Chinese Collection, than upon the best +of these breezy maniacs; whose every fold of drapery is blown inside-out; +whose smallest vein, or artery, is as big as an ordinary forefinger; +whose hair is like a nest of lively snakes; and whose attitudes put +all other extravagance to shame. Insomuch that I do honestly believe, +there can be no place in the world, where such intolerable abortions, +begotten of the sculptor’s chisel, are to be found in such profusion, +as in Rome.<br> +<br> +There is a fine collection of Egyptian antiquities, in the Vatican; +and the ceilings of the rooms in which they are arranged, are painted +to represent a starlight sky in the Desert. It may seem an odd +idea, but it is very effective. The grim, half-human monsters +from the temples, look more grim and monstrous underneath the deep dark +blue; it sheds a strange uncertain gloomy air on everything - a mystery +adapted to the objects; and you leave them, as you find them, shrouded +in a solemn night.<br> +<br> +In the private palaces, pictures are seen to the best advantage. +There are seldom so many in one place that the attention need become +distracted, or the eye confused. You see them very leisurely; +and are rarely interrupted by a crowd of people. There are portraits +innumerable, by Titian, and Rembrandt, and Vandyke; heads by Guido, +and Domenichino, and Carlo Dolci; various subjects by Correggio, and +Murillo, and Raphael, and Salvator Rosa, and Spagnoletto - many of which +it would be difficult, indeed, to praise too highly, or to praise enough; +such is their tenderness and grace; their noble elevation, purity, and +beauty.<br> +<br> +The portrait of Beatrice di Cenci, in the Palazzo Berberini, is a picture +almost impossible to be forgotten. Through the transcendent sweetness +and beauty of the face, there is a something shining out, that haunts +me. I see it now, as I see this paper, or my pen. The head +is loosely draped in white; the light hair falling down below the linen +folds. She has turned suddenly towards you; and there is an expression +in the eyes - although they are very tender and gentle - as if the wildness +of a momentary terror, or distraction, had been struggled with and overcome, +that instant; and nothing but a celestial hope, and a beautiful sorrow, +and a desolate earthly helplessness remained. Some stories say +that Guido painted it, the night before her execution; some other stories, +that he painted it from memory, after having seen her, on her way to +the scaffold. I am willing to believe that, as you see her on +his canvas, so she turned towards him, in the crowd, from the first +sight of the axe, and stamped upon his mind a look which he has stamped +on mine as though I had stood beside him in the concourse. The +guilty palace of the Cenci: blighting a whole quarter of the town, as +it stands withering away by grains: had that face, to my fancy, in its +dismal porch, and at its black, blind windows, and flitting up and down +its dreary stairs, and growing out of the darkness of the ghostly galleries. +The History is written in the Painting; written, in the dying girl’s +face, by Nature’s own hand. And oh! how in that one touch +she puts to flight (instead of making kin) the puny world that claim +to be related to her, in right of poor conventional forgeries!<br> +<br> +I saw in the Palazzo Spada, the statue of Pompey; the statue at whose +base Caesar fell. A stern, tremendous figure! I imagined +one of greater finish: of the last refinement: full of delicate touches: +losing its distinctness, in the giddy eyes of one whose blood was ebbing +before it, and settling into some such rigid majesty as this, as Death +came creeping over the upturned face.<br> +<br> +The excursions in the neighbourhood of Rome are charming, and would +be full of interest were it only for the changing views they afford, +of the wild Campagna. But, every inch of ground, in every direction, +is rich in associations, and in natural beauties. There is Albano, +with its lovely lake and wooded shore, and with its wine, that certainly +has not improved since the days of Horace, and in these times hardly +justifies his panegyric. There is squalid Tivoli, with the river +Anio, diverted from its course, and plunging down, headlong, some eighty +feet in search of it. With its picturesque Temple of the Sibyl, +perched high on a crag; its minor waterfalls glancing and sparkling +in the sun; and one good cavern yawning darkly, where the river takes +a fearful plunge and shoots on, low down under beetling rocks. +There, too, is the Villa d’Este, deserted and decaying among groves +of melancholy pine and cypress trees, where it seems to lie in state. +Then, there is Frascati, and, on the steep above it, the ruins of Tusculum, +where Cicero lived, and wrote, and adorned his favourite house (some +fragments of it may yet be seen there), and where Cato was born. +We saw its ruined amphitheatre on a grey, dull day, when a shrill March +wind was blowing, and when the scattered stones of the old city lay +strewn about the lonely eminence, as desolate and dead as the ashes +of a long extinguished fire.<br> +<br> +One day we walked out, a little party of three, to Albano, fourteen +miles distant; possessed by a great desire to go there by the ancient +Appian way, long since ruined and overgrown. We started at half-past +seven in the morning, and within an hour or so were out upon the open +Campagna. For twelve miles we went climbing on, over an unbroken +succession of mounds, and heaps, and hills, of ruin. Tombs and +temples, overthrown and prostrate; small fragments of columns, friezes, +pediments; great blocks of granite and marble; mouldering arches, grass-grown +and decayed; ruin enough to build a spacious city from; lay strewn about +us. Sometimes, loose walls, built up from these fragments by the +shepherds, came across our path; sometimes, a ditch between two mounds +of broken stones, obstructed our progress; sometimes, the fragments +themselves, rolling from beneath our feet, made it a toilsome matter +to advance; but it was always ruin. Now, we tracked a piece of +the old road, above the ground; now traced it, underneath a grassy covering, +as if that were its grave; but all the way was ruin. In the distance, +ruined aqueducts went stalking on their giant course along the plain; +and every breath of wind that swept towards us, stirred early flowers +and grasses, springing up, spontaneously, on miles of ruin. The +unseen larks above us, who alone disturbed the awful silence, had their +nests in ruin; and the fierce herdsmen, clad in sheepskins, who now +and then scowled out upon us from their sleeping nooks, were housed +in ruin. The aspect of the desolate Campagna in one direction, +where it was most level, reminded me of an American prairie; but what +is the solitude of a region where men have never dwelt, to that of a +Desert, where a mighty race have left their footprints in the earth +from which they have vanished; where the resting-places of their Dead, +have fallen like their Dead; and the broken hour-glass of Time is but +a heap of idle dust! Returning, by the road, at sunset! and looking, +from the distance, on the course we had taken in the morning, I almost +feel (as I had felt when I first saw it, at that hour) as if the sun +would never rise again, but looked its last, that night, upon a ruined +world.<br> +<br> +To come again on Rome, by moonlight, after such an expedition, is a +fitting close to such a day. The narrow streets, devoid of footways, +and choked, in every obscure corner, by heaps of dunghill-rubbish, contrast +so strongly, in their cramped dimensions, and their filth, and darkness, +with the broad square before some haughty church: in the centre of which, +a hieroglyphic-covered obelisk, brought from Egypt in the days of the +Emperors, looks strangely on the foreign scene about it; or perhaps +an ancient pillar, with its honoured statue overthrown, supports a Christian +saint: Marcus Aurelius giving place to Paul, and Trajan to St. Peter. +Then, there are the ponderous buildings reared from the spoliation of +the Coliseum, shutting out the moon, like mountains: while here and +there, are broken arches and rent walls, through which it gushes freely, +as the life comes pouring from a wound. The little town of miserable +houses, walled, and shut in by barred gates, is the quarter where the +Jews are locked up nightly, when the clock strikes eight - a miserable +place, densely populated, and reeking with bad odours, but where the +people are industrious and money-getting. In the day-time, as +you make your way along the narrow streets, you see them all at work: +upon the pavement, oftener than in their dark and frouzy shops: furbishing +old clothes, and driving bargains.<br> +<br> +Crossing from these patches of thick darkness, out into the moon once +more, the fountain of Trevi, welling from a hundred jets, and rolling +over mimic rocks, is silvery to the eye and ear. In the narrow +little throat of street, beyond, a booth, dressed out with flaring lamps, +and boughs of trees, attracts a group of sulky Romans round its smoky +coppers of hot broth, and cauliflower stew; its trays of fried fish, +and its flasks of wine. As you rattle round the sharply-twisting +corner, a lumbering sound is heard. The coachman stops abruptly, +and uncovers, as a van comes slowly by, preceded by a man who bears +a large cross; by a torch-bearer; and a priest: the latter chaunting +as he goes. It is the Dead Cart, with the bodies of the poor, +on their way to burial in the Sacred Field outside the walls, where +they will be thrown into the pit that will be covered with a stone to-night, +and sealed up for a year.<br> +<br> +But whether, in this ride, you pass by obelisks, or columns ancient +temples, theatres, houses, porticoes, or forums: it is strange to see, +how every fragment, whenever it is possible, has been blended into some +modern structure, and made to serve some modern purpose - a wall, a +dwelling-place, a granary, a stable - some use for which it never was +designed, and associated with which it cannot otherwise than lamely +assort. It is stranger still, to see how many ruins of the old +mythology: how many fragments of obsolete legend and observance: have +been incorporated into the worship of Christian altars here; and how, +in numberless respects, the false faith and the true are fused into +a monstrous union.<br> +<br> +From one part of the city, looking out beyond the walls, a squat and +stunted pyramid (the burial-place of Caius Cestius) makes an opaque +triangle in the moonlight. But, to an English traveller, it serves +to mark the grave of Shelley too, whose ashes lie beneath a little garden +near it. Nearer still, almost within its shadow, lie the bones +of Keats, ‘whose name is writ in water,’ that shines brightly +in the landscape of a calm Italian night.<br> +<br> +The Holy Week in Rome is supposed to offer great attractions to all +visitors; but, saving for the sights of Easter Sunday, I would counsel +those who go to Rome for its own interest, to avoid it at that time. +The ceremonies, in general, are of the most tedious and wearisome kind; +the heat and crowd at every one of them, painfully oppressive; the noise, +hubbub, and confusion, quite distracting. We abandoned the pursuit +of these shows, very early in the proceedings, and betook ourselves +to the Ruins again. But, we plunged into the crowd for a share +of the best of the sights; and what we saw, I will describe to you.<br> +<br> +At the Sistine chapel, on the Wednesday, we saw very little, for by +the time we reached it (though we were early) the besieging crowd had +filled it to the door, and overflowed into the adjoining hall, where +they were struggling, and squeezing, and mutually expostulating, and +making great rushes every time a lady was brought out faint, as if at +least fifty people could be accommodated in her vacant standing-room. +Hanging in the doorway of the chapel, was a heavy curtain, and this +curtain, some twenty people nearest to it, in their anxiety to hear +the chaunting of the Miserere, were continually plucking at, in opposition +to each other, that it might not fall down and stifle the sound of the +voices. The consequence was, that it occasioned the most extraordinary +confusion, and seemed to wind itself about the unwary, like a Serpent. +Now, a lady was wrapped up in it, and couldn’t be unwound. +Now, the voice of a stifling gentleman was heard inside it, beseeching +to be let out. Now, two muffled arms, no man could say of which +sex, struggled in it as in a sack. Now, it was carried by a rush, +bodily overhead into the chapel, like an awning. Now, it came +out the other way, and blinded one of the Pope’s Swiss Guard, +who had arrived, that moment, to set things to rights.<br> +<br> +Being seated at a little distance, among two or three of the Pope’s +gentlemen, who were very weary and counting the minutes - as perhaps +his Holiness was too - we had better opportunities of observing this +eccentric entertainment, than of hearing the Miserere. Sometimes, +there was a swell of mournful voices that sounded very pathetic and +sad, and died away, into a low strain again; but that was all we heard.<br> +<br> +At another time, there was the Exhibition of Relics in St. Peter’s, +which took place at between six and seven o’clock in the evening, +and was striking from the cathedral being dark and gloomy, and having +a great many people in it. The place into which the relics were +brought, one by one, by a party of three priests, was a high balcony +near the chief altar. This was the only lighted part of the church. +There are always a hundred and twelve lamps burning near the altar, +and there were two tall tapers, besides, near the black statue of St. +Peter; but these were nothing in such an immense edifice. The +gloom, and the general upturning of faces to the balcony, and the prostration +of true believers on the pavement, as shining objects, like pictures +or looking-glasses, were brought out and shown, had something effective +in it, despite the very preposterous manner in which they were held +up for the general edification, and the great elevation at which they +were displayed; which one would think rather calculated to diminish +the comfort derivable from a full conviction of their being genuine.<br> +<br> +On the Thursday, we went to see the Pope convey the Sacrament from the +Sistine chapel, to deposit it in the Capella Paolina, another chapel +in the Vatican; - a ceremony emblematical of the entombment of the Saviour +before His Resurrection. We waited in a great gallery with a great +crowd of people (three-fourths of them English) for an hour or so, while +they were chaunting the Miserere, in the Sistine chapel again. +Both chapels opened out of the gallery; and the general attention was +concentrated on the occasional opening and shutting of the door of the +one for which the Pope was ultimately bound. None of these openings +disclosed anything more tremendous than a man on a ladder, lighting +a great quantity of candles; but at each and every opening, there was +a terrific rush made at this ladder and this man, something like (I +should think) a charge of the heavy British cavalry at Waterloo. +The man was never brought down, however, nor the ladder; for it performed +the strangest antics in the world among the crowd - where it was carried +by the man, when the candles were all lighted; and finally it was stuck +up against the gallery wall, in a very disorderly manner, just before +the opening of the other chapel, and the commencement of a new chaunt, +announced the approach of his Holiness. At this crisis, the soldiers +of the guard, who had been poking the crowd into all sorts of shapes, +formed down the gallery: and the procession came up, between the two +lines they made.<br> +<br> +There were a few choristers, and then a great many priests, walking +two and two, and carrying - the good-looking priests at least - their +lighted tapers, so as to throw the light with a good effect upon their +faces: for the room was darkened. Those who were not handsome, +or who had not long beards, carried <i>their</i> tapers anyhow, and +abandoned themselves to spiritual contemplation. Meanwhile, the +chaunting was very monotonous and dreary. The procession passed +on, slowly, into the chapel, and the drone of voices went on, and came +on, with it, until the Pope himself appeared, walking under a white +satin canopy, and bearing the covered Sacrament in both hands; cardinals +and canons clustered round him, making a brilliant show. The soldiers +of the guard knelt down as he passed; all the bystanders bowed; and +so he passed on into the chapel: the white satin canopy being removed +from over him at the door, and a white satin parasol hoisted over his +poor old head, in place of it. A few more couples brought up the +rear, and passed into the chapel also. Then, the chapel door was +shut; and it was all over; and everybody hurried off headlong, as for +life or death, to see something else, and say it wasn’t worth +the trouble.<br> +<br> +I think the most popular and most crowded sight (excepting those of +Easter Sunday and Monday, which are open to all classes of people) was +the Pope washing the feet of Thirteen men, representing the twelve apostles, +and Judas Iscariot. The place in which this pious office is performed, +is one of the chapels of St. Peter’s, which is gaily decorated +for the occasion; the thirteen sitting, ‘all of a row,’ +on a very high bench, and looking particularly uncomfortable, with the +eyes of Heaven knows how many English, French, Americans, Swiss, Germans, +Russians, Swedes, Norwegians, and other foreigners, nailed to their +faces all the time. They are robed in white; and on their heads +they wear a stiff white cap, like a large English porter-pot, without +a handle. Each carries in his hand, a nosegay, of the size of +a fine cauliflower; and two of them, on this occasion, wore spectacles; +which, remembering the characters they sustained, I thought a droll +appendage to the costume. There was a great eye to character. +St. John was represented by a good-looking young man. St. Peter, +by a grave-looking old gentleman, with a flowing brown beard; and Judas +Iscariot by such an enormous hypocrite (I could not make out, though, +whether the expression of his face was real or assumed) that if he had +acted the part to the death and had gone away and hanged himself, he +would have left nothing to be desired.<br> +<br> +As the two large boxes, appropriated to ladies at this sight, were full +to the throat, and getting near was hopeless, we posted off, along with +a great crowd, to be in time at the Table, where the Pope, in person, +waits on these Thirteen; and after a prodigious struggle at the Vatican +staircase, and several personal conflicts with the Swiss guard, the +whole crowd swept into the room. It was a long gallery hung with +drapery of white and red, with another great box for ladies (who are +obliged to dress in black at these ceremonies, and to wear black veils), +a royal box for the King of Naples and his party; and the table itself, +which, set out like a ball supper, and ornamented with golden figures +of the real apostles, was arranged on an elevated platform on one side +of the gallery. The counterfeit apostles’ knives and forks +were laid out on that side of the table which was nearest to the wall, +so that they might be stared at again, without let or hindrance.<br> +<br> +The body of the room was full of male strangers; the crowd immense; +the heat very great; and the pressure sometimes frightful. It +was at its height, when the stream came pouring in, from the feet-washing; +and then there were such shrieks and outcries, that a party of Piedmontese +dragoons went to the rescue of the Swiss guard, and helped them to calm +the tumult.<br> +<br> +The ladies were particularly ferocious, in their struggles for places. +One lady of my acquaintance was seized round the waist, in the ladies’ +box, by a strong matron, and hoisted out of her place; and there was +another lady (in a back row in the same box) who improved her position +by sticking a large pin into the ladies before her.<br> +<br> +The gentlemen about me were remarkably anxious to see what was on the +table; and one Englishman seemed to have embarked the whole energy of +his nature in the determination to discover whether there was any mustard. +‘By Jupiter there’s vinegar!’ I heard him say to his +friend, after he had stood on tiptoe an immense time, and had been crushed +and beaten on all sides. ‘And there’s oil! I +saw them distinctly, in cruets! Can any gentleman, in front there, +see mustard on the table? Sir, will you oblige me! <i>Do</i> +you see a Mustard-Pot?’<br> +<br> +The apostles and Judas appearing on the platform, after much expectation, +were marshalled, in line, in front of the table, with Peter at the top; +and a good long stare was taken at them by the company, while twelve +of them took a long smell at their nosegays, and Judas - moving his +lips very obtrusively - engaged in inward prayer. Then, the Pope, +clad in a scarlet robe, and wearing on his head a skull-cap of white +satin, appeared in the midst of a crowd of Cardinals and other dignitaries, +and took in his hand a little golden ewer, from which he poured a little +water over one of Peter’s hands, while one attendant held a golden +basin; a second, a fine cloth; a third, Peter’s nosegay, which +was taken from him during the operation. This his Holiness performed, +with considerable expedition, on every man in the line (Judas, I observed, +to be particularly overcome by his condescension); and then the whole +Thirteen sat down to dinner. Grace said by the Pope. Peter +in the chair.<br> +<br> +There was white wine, and red wine: and the dinner looked very good. +The courses appeared in portions, one for each apostle: and these being +presented to the Pope, by Cardinals upon their knees, were by him handed +to the Thirteen. The manner in which Judas grew more white-livered +over his victuals, and languished, with his head on one side, as if +he had no appetite, defies all description. Peter was a good, +sound, old man, and went in, as the saying is, ‘to win;’ +eating everything that was given him (he got the best: being first in +the row) and saying nothing to anybody. The dishes appeared to +be chiefly composed of fish and vegetables. The Pope helped the +Thirteen to wine also; and, during the whole dinner, somebody read something +aloud, out of a large book - the Bible, I presume - which nobody could +hear, and to which nobody paid the least attention. The Cardinals, +and other attendants, smiled to each other, from time to time, as if +the thing were a great farce; and if they thought so, there is little +doubt they were perfectly right. His Holiness did what he had +to do, as a sensible man gets through a troublesome ceremony, and seemed +very glad when it was all over.<br> +<br> +The Pilgrims’ Suppers: where lords and ladies waited on the Pilgrims, +in token of humility, and dried their feet when they had been well washed +by deputy: were very attractive. But, of all the many spectacles +of dangerous reliance on outward observances, in themselves mere empty +forms, none struck me half so much as the Scala Santa, or Holy Staircase, +which I saw several times, but to the greatest advantage, or disadvantage, +on Good Friday.<br> +<br> +This holy staircase is composed of eight-and-twenty steps, said to have +belonged to Pontius Pilate’s house and to be the identical stair +on which Our Saviour trod, in coming down from the judgment-seat. +Pilgrims ascend it, only on their knees. It is steep; and, at +the summit, is a chapel, reported to be full of relics; into which they +peep through some iron bars, and then come down again, by one of two +side staircases, which are not sacred, and may be walked on.<br> +<br> +On Good Friday, there were, on a moderate computation, a hundred people, +slowly shuffling up these stairs, on their knees, at one time; while +others, who were going up, or had come down - and a few who had done +both, and were going up again for the second time - stood loitering +in the porch below, where an old gentleman in a sort of watch-box, rattled +a tin canister, with a slit in the top, incessantly, to remind them +that he took the money. The majority were country-people, male +and female. There were four or five Jesuit priests, however, and +some half-dozen well-dressed women. A whole school of boys, twenty +at least, were about half-way up - evidently enjoying it very much. +They were all wedged together, pretty closely; but the rest of the company +gave the boys as wide a berth as possible, in consequence of their betraying +some recklessness in the management of their boots.<br> +<br> +I never, in my life, saw anything at once so ridiculous, and so unpleasant, +as this sight - ridiculous in the absurd incidents inseparable from +it; and unpleasant in its senseless and unmeaning degradation. +There are two steps to begin with, and then a rather broad landing. +The more rigid climbers went along this landing on their knees, as well +as up the stairs; and the figures they cut, in their shuffling progress +over the level surface, no description can paint. Then, to see +them watch their opportunity from the porch, and cut in where there +was a place next the wall! And to see one man with an umbrella +(brought on purpose, for it was a fine day) hoisting himself, unlawfully, +from stair to stair! And to observe a demure lady of fifty-five +or so, looking back, every now and then, to assure herself that her +legs were properly disposed!<br> +<br> +There were such odd differences in the speed of different people, too. +Some got on as if they were doing a match against time; others stopped +to say a prayer on every step. This man touched every stair with +his forehead, and kissed it; that man scratched his head all the way. +The boys got on brilliantly, and were up and down again before the old +lady had accomplished her half-dozen stairs. But most of the penitents +came down, very sprightly and fresh, as having done a real good substantial +deed which it would take a good deal of sin to counterbalance; and the +old gentleman in the watch-box was down upon them with his canister +while they were in this humour, I promise you.<br> +<br> +As if such a progress were not in its nature inevitably droll enough, +there lay, on the top of the stairs, a wooden figure on a crucifix, +resting on a sort of great iron saucer: so rickety and unsteady, that +whenever an enthusiastic person kissed the figure, with more than usual +devotion, or threw a coin into the saucer, with more than common readiness +(for it served in this respect as a second or supplementary canister), +it gave a great leap and rattle, and nearly shook the attendant lamp +out: horribly frightening the people further down, and throwing the +guilty party into unspeakable embarrassment.<br> +<br> +On Easter Sunday, as well as on the preceding Thursday, the Pope bestows +his benediction on the people, from the balcony in front of St. Peter’s. +This Easter Sunday was a day so bright and blue: so cloudless, balmy, +wonderfully bright: that all the previous bad weather vanished from +the recollection in a moment. I had seen the Thursday’s +Benediction dropping damply on some hundreds of umbrellas, but there +was not a sparkle then, in all the hundred fountains of Rome - such +fountains as they are! - and on this Sunday morning they were running +diamonds. The miles of miserable streets through which we drove +(compelled to a certain course by the Pope’s dragoons: the Roman +police on such occasions) were so full of colour, that nothing in them +was capable of wearing a faded aspect. The common people came +out in their gayest dresses; the richer people in their smartest vehicles; +Cardinals rattled to the church of the Poor Fishermen in their state +carriages; shabby magnificence flaunted its thread-bare liveries and +tarnished cocked hats, in the sun; and every coach in Rome was put in +requisition for the Great Piazza of St. Peter’s.<br> +<br> +One hundred and fifty thousand people were there at least! Yet +there was ample room. How many carriages were there, I don’t +know; yet there was room for them too, and to spare. The great +steps of the church were densely crowded. There were many of the +Contadini, from Albano (who delight in red), in that part of the square, +and the mingling of bright colours in the crowd was beautiful. +Below the steps the troops were ranged. In the magnificent proportions +of the place they looked like a bed of flowers. Sulky Romans, +lively peasants from the neighbouring country, groups of pilgrims from +distant parts of Italy, sight-seeing foreigners of all nations, made +a murmur in the clear air, like so many insects; and high above them +all, plashing and bubbling, and making rainbow colours in the light, +the two delicious fountains welled and tumbled bountifully.<br> +<br> +A kind of bright carpet was hung over the front of the balcony; and +the sides of the great window were bedecked with crimson drapery. +An awning was stretched, too, over the top, to screen the old man from +the hot rays of the sun. As noon approached, all eyes were turned +up to this window. In due time, the chair was seen approaching +to the front, with the gigantic fans of peacock’s feathers, close +behind. The doll within it (for the balcony is very high) then +rose up, and stretched out its tiny arms, while all the male spectators +in the square uncovered, and some, but not by any means the greater +part, kneeled down. The guns upon the ramparts of the Castle of +St. Angelo proclaimed, next moment, that the benediction was given; +drums beat; trumpets sounded; arms clashed; and the great mass below, +suddenly breaking into smaller heaps, and scattering here and there +in rills, was stirred like parti-coloured sand.<br> +<br> +What a bright noon it was, as we rode away! The Tiber was no longer +yellow, but blue. There was a blush on the old bridges, that made +them fresh and hale again. The Pantheon, with its majestic front, +all seamed and furrowed like an old face, had summer light upon its +battered walls. Every squalid and desolate hut in the Eternal +City (bear witness every grim old palace, to the filth and misery of +the plebeian neighbour that elbows it, as certain as Time has laid its +grip on its patrician head!) was fresh and new with some ray of the +sun. The very prison in the crowded street, a whirl of carriages +and people, had some stray sense of the day, dropping through its chinks +and crevices: and dismal prisoners who could not wind their faces round +the barricading of the blocked-up windows, stretched out their hands, +and clinging to the rusty bars, turned <i>them</i> towards the overflowing +street: as if it were a cheerful fire, and could be shared in, that +way.<br> +<br> +But, when the night came on, without a cloud to dim the full moon, what +a sight it was to see the Great Square full once more, and the whole +church, from the cross to the ground, lighted with innumerable lanterns, +tracing out the architecture, and winking and shining all round the +colonnade of the piazza! And what a sense of exultation, joy, +delight, it was, when the great bell struck half-past seven - on the +instant - to behold one bright red mass of fire, soar gallantly from +the top of the cupola to the extremest summit of the cross, and the +moment it leaped into its place, become the signal of a bursting out +of countless lights, as great, and red, and blazing as itself, from +every part of the gigantic church; so that every cornice, capital, and +smallest ornament of stone, expressed itself in fire: and the black, +solid groundwork of the enormous dome seemed to grow transparent as +an egg-shell!<br> +<br> +A train of gunpowder, an electric chain - nothing could be fired, more +suddenly and swiftly, than this second illumination; and when we had +got away, and gone upon a distant height, and looked towards it two +hours afterwards, there it still stood, shining and glittering in the +calm night like a jewel! Not a line of its proportions wanting; +not an angle blunted; not an atom of its radiance lost.<br> +<br> +The next night - Easter Monday - there was a great display of fireworks +from the Castle of St. Angelo. We hired a room in an opposite +house, and made our way, to our places, in good time, through a dense +mob of people choking up the square in front, and all the avenues leading +to it; and so loading the bridge by which the castle is approached, +that it seemed ready to sink into the rapid Tiber below. There +are statues on this bridge (execrable works), and, among them, great +vessels full of burning tow were placed: glaring strangely on the faces +of the crowd, and not less strangely on the stone counterfeits above +them.<br> +<br> +The show began with a tremendous discharge of cannon; and then, for +twenty minutes or half an hour, the whole castle was one incessant sheet +of fire, and labyrinth of blazing wheels of every colour, size, and +speed: while rockets streamed into the sky, not by ones or twos, or +scores, but hundreds at a time. The concluding burst - the Girandola +- was like the blowing up into the air of the whole massive castle, +without smoke or dust.<br> +<br> +In half an hour afterwards, the immense concourse had dispersed; the +moon was looking calmly down upon her wrinkled image in the river; and +half-a-dozen men and boys, with bits of lighted candle in their hands: +moving here and there, in search of anything worth having, that might +have been dropped in the press: had the whole scene to themselves.<br> +<br> +By way of contrast we rode out into old ruined Rome, after all this +firing and booming, to take our leave of the Coliseum. I had seen +it by moonlight before (I could never get through a day without going +back to it), but its tremendous solitude that night is past all telling. +The ghostly pillars in the Forum; the Triumphal Arches of Old Emperors; +those enormous masses of ruins which were once their palaces; the grass-grown +mounds that mark the graves of ruined temples; the stones of the Via +Sacra, smooth with the tread of feet in ancient Rome; even these were +dimmed, in their transcendent melancholy, by the dark ghost of its bloody +holidays, erect and grim; haunting the old scene; despoiled by pillaging +Popes and fighting Princes, but not laid; wringing wild hands of weed, +and grass, and bramble; and lamenting to the night in every gap and +broken arch - the shadow of its awful self, immovable!<br> +<br> +As we lay down on the grass of the Campagna, next day, on our way to +Florence, hearing the larks sing, we saw that a little wooden cross +had been erected on the spot where the poor Pilgrim Countess was murdered. +So, we piled some loose stones about it, as the beginning of a mound +to her memory, and wondered if we should ever rest there again, and +look back at Rome.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +CHAPTER XI - A RAPID DIORAMA<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +We are bound for Naples! And we cross the threshold of the Eternal +City at yonder gate, the Gate of San Giovanni Laterano, where the two +last objects that attract the notice of a departing visitor, and the +two first objects that attract the notice of an arriving one, are a +proud church and a decaying ruin - good emblems of Rome.<br> +<br> +Our way lies over the Campagna, which looks more solemn on a bright +blue day like this, than beneath a darker sky; the great extent of ruin +being plainer to the eye: and the sunshine through the arches of the +broken aqueducts, showing other broken arches shining through them in +the melancholy distance. When we have traversed it, and look back +from Albano, its dark, undulating surface lies below us like a stagnant +lake, or like a broad, dull Lethe flowing round the walls of Rome, and +separating it from all the world! How often have the Legions, +in triumphant march, gone glittering across that purple waste, so silent +and unpeopled now! How often has the train of captives looked, +with sinking hearts, upon the distant city, and beheld its population +pouring out, to hail the return of their conqueror! What riot, +sensuality and murder, have run mad in the vast palaces now heaps of +brick and shattered marble! What glare of fires, and roar of popular +tumult, and wail of pestilence and famine, have come sweeping over the +wild plain where nothing is now heard but the wind, and where the solitary +lizards gambol unmolested in the sun!<br> +<br> +The train of wine-carts going into Rome, each driven by a shaggy peasant +reclining beneath a little gipsy-fashioned canopy of sheep-skin, is +ended now, and we go toiling up into a higher country where there are +trees. The next day brings us on the Pontine Marshes, wearily +flat and lonesome, and overgrown with brushwood, and swamped with water, +but with a fine road made across them, shaded by a long, long avenue. +Here and there, we pass a solitary guard-house; here and there a hovel, +deserted, and walled up. Some herdsmen loiter on the banks of +the stream beside the road, and sometimes a flat-bottomed boat, towed +by a man, comes rippling idly along it. A horseman passes occasionally, +carrying a long gun cross-wise on the saddle before him, and attended +by fierce dogs; but there is nothing else astir save the wind and the +shadows, until we come in sight of Terracina.<br> +<br> +How blue and bright the sea, rolling below the windows of the inn so +famous in robber stories! How picturesque the great crags and +points of rock overhanging to-morrow’s narrow road, where galley-slaves +are working in the quarries above, and the sentinels who guard them +lounge on the sea-shore! All night there is the murmur of the +sea beneath the stars; and, in the morning, just at daybreak, the prospect +suddenly becoming expanded, as if by a miracle, reveals - in the far +distance, across the sea there! - Naples with its islands, and Vesuvius +spouting fire! Within a quarter of an hour, the whole is gone +as if it were a vision in the clouds, and there is nothing but the sea +and sky.<br> +<br> +The Neapolitan frontier crossed, after two hours’ travelling; +and the hungriest of soldiers and custom-house officers with difficulty +appeased; we enter, by a gateless portal, into the first Neapolitan +town - Fondi. Take note of Fondi, in the name of all that is wretched +and beggarly.<br> +<br> +A filthy channel of mud and refuse meanders down the centre of the miserable +streets, fed by obscene rivulets that trickle from the abject houses. +There is not a door, a window, or a shutter; not a roof, a wall, a post, +or a pillar, in all Fondi, but is decayed, and crazy, and rotting away. +The wretched history of the town, with all its sieges and pillages by +Barbarossa and the rest, might have been acted last year. How +the gaunt dogs that sneak about the miserable streets, come to be alive, +and undevoured by the people, is one of the enigmas of the world.<br> +<br> +A hollow-cheeked and scowling people they are! All beggars; but +that’s nothing. Look at them as they gather round. +Some, are too indolent to come down-stairs, or are too wisely mistrustful +of the stairs, perhaps, to venture: so stretch out their lean hands +from upper windows, and howl; others, come flocking about us, fighting +and jostling one another, and demanding, incessantly, charity for the +love of God, charity for the love of the Blessed Virgin, charity for +the love of all the Saints. A group of miserable children, almost +naked, screaming forth the same petition, discover that they can see +themselves reflected in the varnish of the carriage, and begin to dance +and make grimaces, that they may have the pleasure of seeing their antics +repeated in this mirror. A crippled idiot, in the act of striking +one of them who drowns his clamorous demand for charity, observes his +angry counterpart in the panel, stops short, and thrusting out his tongue, +begins to wag his head and chatter. The shrill cry raised at this, +awakens half-a-dozen wild creatures wrapped in frowsy brown cloaks, +who are lying on the church-steps with pots and pans for sale. +These, scrambling up, approach, and beg defiantly. ‘I am +hungry. Give me something. Listen to me, Signor. I +am hungry!’ Then, a ghastly old woman, fearful of being +too late, comes hobbling down the street, stretching out one hand, and +scratching herself all the way with the other, and screaming, long before +she can be heard, ‘Charity, charity! I’ll go and pray +for you directly, beautiful lady, if you’ll give me charity!’ +Lastly, the members of a brotherhood for burying the dead: hideously +masked, and attired in shabby black robes, white at the skirts, with +the splashes of many muddy winters: escorted by a dirty priest, and +a congenial cross-bearer: come hurrying past. Surrounded by this +motley concourse, we move out of Fondi: bad bright eyes glaring at us, +out of the darkness of every crazy tenement, like glistening fragments +of its filth and putrefaction.<br> +<br> +A noble mountain-pass, with the ruins of a fort on a strong eminence, +traditionally called the Fort of Fra Diavolo; the old town of Itrí, +like a device in pastry, built up, almost perpendicularly, on a hill, +and approached by long steep flights of steps; beautiful Mola di Gaëta, +whose wines, like those of Albano, have degenerated since the days of +Horace, or his taste for wine was bad: which is not likely of one who +enjoyed it so much, and extolled it so well; another night upon the +road at St. Agatha; a rest next day at Capua, which is picturesque, +but hardly so seductive to a traveller now, as the soldiers of Praetorian +Rome were wont to find the ancient city of that name; a flat road among +vines festooned and looped from tree to tree; and Mount Vesuvius close +at hand at last! - its cone and summit whitened with snow; and its smoke +hanging over it, in the heavy atmosphere of the day, like a dense cloud. +So we go, rattling down hill, into Naples.<br> +<br> +A funeral is coming up the street, towards us. The body, on an +open bier, borne on a kind of palanquin, covered with a gay cloth of +crimson and gold. The mourners, in white gowns and masks. +If there be death abroad, life is well represented too, for all Naples +would seem to be out of doors, and tearing to and fro in carriages. +Some of these, the common Vetturíno vehicles, are drawn by three +horses abreast, decked with smart trappings and great abundance of brazen +ornament, and always going very fast. Not that their loads are +light; for the smallest of them has at least six people inside, four +in front, four or five more hanging on behind, and two or three more, +in a net or bag below the axle-tree, where they lie half-suffocated +with mud and dust. Exhibitors of Punch, buffo singers with guitars, +reciters of poetry, reciters of stories, a row of cheap exhibitions +with clowns and showmen, drums, and trumpets, painted cloths representing +the wonders within, and admiring crowds assembled without, assist the +whirl and bustle. Ragged lazzaroni lie asleep in doorways, archways, +and kennels; the gentry, gaily dressed, are dashing up and down in carriages +on the Chiaji, or walking in the Public Gardens; and quiet letter-writers, +perched behind their little desks and inkstands under the Portico of +the Great Theatre of San Carlo, in the public street, are waiting for +clients.<br> +<br> +Here is a galley-slave in chains, who wants a letter written to a friend. +He approaches a clerkly-looking man, sitting under the corner arch, +and makes his bargain. He has obtained permission of the sentinel +who guards him: who stands near, leaning against the wall and cracking +nuts. The galley-slave dictates in the ear of the letter-writer, +what he desires to say; and as he can’t read writing, looks intently +in his face, to read there whether he sets down faithfully what he is +told. After a time, the galley-slave becomes discursive - incoherent. +The secretary pauses and rubs his chin. The galley-slave is voluble +and energetic. The secretary, at length, catches the idea, and +with the air of a man who knows how to word it, sets it down; stopping, +now and then, to glance back at his text admiringly. The galley-slave +is silent. The soldier stoically cracks his nuts. Is there +anything more to say? inquires the letter-writer. No more. +Then listen, friend of mine. He reads it through. The galley-slave +is quite enchanted. It is folded, and addressed, and given to +him, and he pays the fee. The secretary falls back indolently +in his chair, and takes a book. The galley-slave gathers up an +empty sack. The sentinel throws away a handful of nut-shells, +shoulders his musket, and away they go together.<br> +<br> +Why do the beggars rap their chins constantly, with their right hands, +when you look at them? Everything is done in pantomime in Naples, +and that is the conventional sign for hunger. A man who is quarrelling +with another, yonder, lays the palm of his right hand on the back of +his left, and shakes the two thumbs - expressive of a donkey’s +ears - whereat his adversary is goaded to desperation. Two people +bargaining for fish, the buyer empties an imaginary waistcoat pocket +when he is told the price, and walks away without a word: having thoroughly +conveyed to the seller that he considers it too dear. Two people +in carriages, meeting, one touches his lips, twice or thrice, holding +up the five fingers of his right hand, and gives a horizontal cut in +the air with the palm. The other nods briskly, and goes his way. +He has been invited to a friendly dinner at half-past five o’clock, +and will certainly come.<br> +<br> +All over Italy, a peculiar shake of the right hand from the wrist, with +the forefinger stretched out, expresses a negative - the only negative +beggars will ever understand. But, in Naples, those five fingers +are a copious language.<br> +<br> +All this, and every other kind of out-door life and stir, and macaroni-eating +at sunset, and flower-selling all day long, and begging and stealing +everywhere and at all hours, you see upon the bright sea-shore, where +the waves of the bay sparkle merrily. But, lovers and hunters +of the picturesque, let us not keep too studiously out of view the miserable +depravity, degradation, and wretchedness, with which this gay Neapolitan +life is inseparably associated! It is not well to find Saint Giles’s +so repulsive, and the Porta Capuana so attractive. A pair of naked +legs and a ragged red scarf, do not make <i>all</i> the difference between +what is interesting and what is coarse and odious? Painting and +poetising for ever, if you will, the beauties of this most beautiful +and lovely spot of earth, let us, as our duty, try to associate a new +picturesque with some faint recognition of man’s destiny and capabilities; +more hopeful, I believe, among the ice and snow of the North Pole, than +in the sun and bloom of Naples.<br> +<br> +Capri - once made odious by the deified beast Tiberius - Ischia, Procida, +and the thousand distant beauties of the Bay, lie in the blue sea yonder, +changing in the mist and sunshine twenty times a-day: now close at hand, +now far off, now unseen. The fairest country in the world, is +spread about us. Whether we turn towards the Miseno shore of the +splendid watery amphitheatre, and go by the Grotto of Posilipo to the +Grotto del Cane and away to Baiae: or take the other way, towards Vesuvius +and Sorrento, it is one succession of delights. In the last-named +direction, where, over doors and archways, there are countless little +images of San Gennaro, with his Canute’s hand stretched out, to +check the fury of the Burning Mountain, we are carried pleasantly, by +a railroad on the beautiful Sea Beach, past the town of Torre del Greco, +built upon the ashes of the former town destroyed by an eruption of +Vesuvius, within a hundred years; and past the flat-roofed houses, granaries, +and macaroni manufactories; to Castel-a-Mare, with its ruined castle, +now inhabited by fishermen, standing in the sea upon a heap of rocks. +Here, the railroad terminates; but, hence we may ride on, by an unbroken +succession of enchanting bays, and beautiful scenery, sloping from the +highest summit of Saint Angelo, the highest neighbouring mountain, down +to the water’s edge - among vineyards, olive-trees, gardens of +oranges and lemons, orchards, heaped-up rocks, green gorges in the hills +- and by the bases of snow-covered heights, and through small towns +with handsome, dark-haired women at the doors - and pass delicious summer +villas - to Sorrento, where the Poet Tasso drew his inspiration from +the beauty surrounding him. Returning, we may climb the heights +above Castel-a-Mare, and looking down among the boughs and leaves, see +the crisp water glistening in the sun; and clusters of white houses +in distant Naples, dwindling, in the great extent of prospect, down +to dice. The coming back to the city, by the beach again, at sunset: +with the glowing sea on one side, and the darkening mountain, with its +smoke and flame, upon the other: is a sublime conclusion to the glory +of the day.<br> +<br> +That church by the Porta Capuana - near the old fisher-market in the +dirtiest quarter of dirty Naples, where the revolt of Masaniello began +- is memorable for having been the scene of one of his earliest proclamations +to the people, and is particularly remarkable for nothing else, unless +it be its waxen and bejewelled Saint in a glass case, with two odd hands; +or the enormous number of beggars who are constantly rapping their chins +there, like a battery of castanets. The cathedral with the beautiful +door, and the columns of African and Egyptian granite that once ornamented +the temple of Apollo, contains the famous sacred blood of San Gennaro +or Januarius: which is preserved in two phials in a silver tabernacle, +and miraculously liquefies three times a-year, to the great admiration +of the people. At the same moment, the stone (distant some miles) +where the Saint suffered martyrdom, becomes faintly red. It is +said that the officiating priests turn faintly red also, sometimes, +when these miracles occur.<br> +<br> +The old, old men who live in hovels at the entrance of these ancient +catacombs, and who, in their age and infirmity, seem waiting here, to +be buried themselves, are members of a curious body, called the Royal +Hospital, who are the official attendants at funerals. Two of +these old spectres totter away, with lighted tapers, to show the caverns +of death - as unconcerned as if they were immortal. They were +used as burying-places for three hundred years; and, in one part, is +a large pit full of skulls and bones, said to be the sad remains of +a great mortality occasioned by a plague. In the rest there is +nothing but dust. They consist, chiefly, of great wide corridors +and labyrinths, hewn out of the rock. At the end of some of these +long passages, are unexpected glimpses of the daylight, shining down +from above. It looks as ghastly and as strange; among the torches, +and the dust, and the dark vaults: as if it, too, were dead and buried.<br> +<br> +The present burial-place lies out yonder, on a hill between the city +and Vesuvius. The old Campo Santo with its three hundred and sixty-five +pits, is only used for those who die in hospitals, and prisons, and +are unclaimed by their friends. The graceful new cemetery, at +no great distance from it, though yet unfinished, has already many graves +among its shrubs and flowers, and airy colonnades. It might be +reasonably objected elsewhere, that some of the tombs are meretricious +and too fanciful; but the general brightness seems to justify it here; +and Mount Vesuvius, separated from them by a lovely slope of ground, +exalts and saddens the scene.<br> +<br> +If it be solemn to behold from this new City of the Dead, with its dark +smoke hanging in the clear sky, how much more awful and impressive is +it, viewed from the ghostly ruins of Herculaneum and Pompeii!<br> +<br> +Stand at the bottom of the great market-place of Pompeii, and look up +the silent streets, through the ruined temples of Jupiter and Isis, +over the broken houses with their inmost sanctuaries open to the day, +away to Mount Vesuvius, bright and snowy in the peaceful distance; and +lose all count of time, and heed of other things, in the strange and +melancholy sensation of seeing the Destroyed and the Destroyer making +this quiet picture in the sun. Then, ramble on, and see, at every +turn, the little familiar tokens of human habitation and every-day pursuits; +the chafing of the bucket-rope in the stone rim of the exhausted well; +the track of carriage-wheels in the pavement of the street; the marks +of drinking-vessels on the stone counter of the wine-shop; the amphorae +in private cellars, stored away so many hundred years ago, and undisturbed +to this hour - all rendering the solitude and deadly lonesomeness of +the place, ten thousand times more solemn, than if the volcano, in its +fury, had swept the city from the earth, and sunk it in the bottom of +the sea.<br> +<br> +After it was shaken by the earthquake which preceded the eruption, workmen +were employed in shaping out, in stone, new ornaments for temples and +other buildings that had suffered. Here lies their work, outside +the city gate, as if they would return to-morrow.<br> +<br> +In the cellar of Diomede’s house, where certain skeletons were +found huddled together, close to the door, the impression of their bodies +on the ashes, hardened with the ashes, and became stamped and fixed +there, after they had shrunk, inside, to scanty bones. So, in +the theatre of Herculaneum, a comic mask, floating on the stream when +it was hot and liquid, stamped its mimic features in it as it hardened +into stone; and now, it turns upon the stranger the fantastic look it +turned upon the audiences in that same theatre two thousand years ago.<br> +<br> +Next to the wonder of going up and down the streets, and in and out +of the houses, and traversing the secret chambers of the temples of +a religion that has vanished from the earth, and finding so many fresh +traces of remote antiquity: as if the course of Time had been stopped +after this desolation, and there had been no nights and days, months, +years, and centuries, since: nothing is more impressive and terrible +than the many evidences of the searching nature of the ashes, as bespeaking +their irresistible power, and the impossibility of escaping them. +In the wine-cellars, they forced their way into the earthen vessels: +displacing the wine and choking them, to the brim, with dust. +In the tombs, they forced the ashes of the dead from the funeral urns, +and rained new ruin even into them. The mouths, and eyes, and +skulls of all the skeletons, were stuffed with this terrible hail. +In Herculaneum, where the flood was of a different and a heavier kind, +it rolled in, like a sea. Imagine a deluge of water turned to +marble, at its height - and that is what is called ‘the lava’ +here.<br> +<br> +Some workmen were digging the gloomy well on the brink of which we now +stand, looking down, when they came on some of the stone benches of +the theatre - those steps (for such they seem) at the bottom of the +excavation - and found the buried city of Herculaneum. Presently +going down, with lighted torches, we are perplexed by great walls of +monstrous thickness, rising up between the benches, shutting out the +stage, obtruding their shapeless forms in absurd places, confusing the +whole plan, and making it a disordered dream. We cannot, at first, +believe, or picture to ourselves, that THIS came rolling in, and drowned +the city; and that all that is not here, has been cut away, by the axe, +like solid stone. But this perceived and understood, the horror +and oppression of its presence are indescribable.<br> +<br> +Many of the paintings on the walls in the roofless chambers of both +cities, or carefully removed to the museum at Naples, are as fresh and +plain, as if they had been executed yesterday. Here are subjects +of still life, as provisions, dead game, bottles, glasses, and the like; +familiar classical stories, or mythological fables, always forcibly +and plainly told; conceits of cupids, quarrelling, sporting, working +at trades; theatrical rehearsals; poets reading their productions to +their friends; inscriptions chalked upon the walls; political squibs, +advertisements, rough drawings by schoolboys; everything to people and +restore the ancient cities, in the fancy of their wondering visitor. +Furniture, too, you see, of every kind - lamps, tables, couches; vessels +for eating, drinking, and cooking; workmen’s tools, surgical instruments, +tickets for the theatre, pieces of money, personal ornaments, bunches +of keys found clenched in the grasp of skeletons, helmets of guards +and warriors; little household bells, yet musical with their old domestic +tones.<br> +<br> +The least among these objects, lends its aid to swell the interest of +Vesuvius, and invest it with a perfect fascination. The looking, +from either ruined city, into the neighbouring grounds overgrown with +beautiful vines and luxuriant trees; and remembering that house upon +house, temple on temple, building after building, and street after street, +are still lying underneath the roots of all the quiet cultivation, waiting +to be turned up to the light of day; is something so wonderful, so full +of mystery, so captivating to the imagination, that one would think +it would be paramount, and yield to nothing else. To nothing but +Vesuvius; but the mountain is the genius of the scene. From every +indication of the ruin it has worked, we look, again, with an absorbing +interest to where its smoke is rising up into the sky. It is beyond +us, as we thread the ruined streets: above us, as we stand upon the +ruined walls, we follow it through every vista of broken columns, as +we wander through the empty court-yards of the houses; and through the +garlandings and interlacings of every wanton vine. Turning away +to Paestum yonder, to see the awful structures built, the least aged +of them, hundreds of years before the birth of Christ, and standing +yet, erect in lonely majesty, upon the wild, malaria-blighted plain +- we watch Vesuvius as it disappears from the prospect, and watch for +it again, on our return, with the same thrill of interest: as the doom +and destiny of all this beautiful country, biding its terrible time.<br> +<br> +It is very warm in the sun, on this early spring-day, when we return +from Paestum, but very cold in the shade: insomuch, that although we +may lunch, pleasantly, at noon, in the open air, by the gate of Pompeii, +the neighbouring rivulet supplies thick ice for our wine. But, +the sun is shining brightly; there is not a cloud or speck of vapour +in the whole blue sky, looking down upon the bay of Naples; and the +moon will be at the full to-night. No matter that the snow and +ice lie thick upon the summit of Vesuvius, or that we have been on foot +all day at Pompeii, or that croakers maintain that strangers should +not be on the mountain by night, in such an unusual season. Let +us take advantage of the fine weather; make the best of our way to Resina, +the little village at the foot of the mountain; prepare ourselves, as +well as we can, on so short a notice, at the guide’s house; ascend +at once, and have sunset half-way up, moonlight at the top, and midnight +to come down in!<br> +<br> +At four o’clock in the afternoon, there is a terrible uproar in +the little stable-yard of Signior Salvatore, the recognised head-guide, +with the gold band round his cap; and thirty under-guides who are all +scuffling and screaming at once, are preparing half-a-dozen saddled +ponies, three litters, and some stout staves, for the journey. +Every one of the thirty, quarrels with the other twenty-nine, and frightens +the six ponies; and as much of the village as can possibly squeeze itself +into the little stable-yard, participates in the tumult, and gets trodden +on by the cattle.<br> +<br> +After much violent skirmishing, and more noise than would suffice for +the storming of Naples, the procession starts. The head-guide, +who is liberally paid for all the attendants, rides a little in advance +of the party; the other thirty guides proceed on foot. Eight go +forward with the litters that are to be used by-and-by; and the remaining +two-and-twenty beg.<br> +<br> +We ascend, gradually, by stony lanes like rough broad flights of stairs, +for some time. At length, we leave these, and the vineyards on +either side of them, and emerge upon a bleak bare region where the lava +lies confusedly, in enormous rusty masses; as if the earth had been +ploughed up by burning thunderbolts. And now, we halt to see the +sun set. The change that falls upon the dreary region, and on +the whole mountain, as its red light fades, and the night comes on - +and the unutterable solemnity and dreariness that reign around, who +that has witnessed it, can ever forget!<br> +<br> +It is dark, when after winding, for some time, over the broken ground, +we arrive at the foot of the cone: which is extremely steep, and seems +to rise, almost perpendicularly, from the spot where we dismount. +The only light is reflected from the snow, deep, hard, and white, with +which the cone is covered. It is now intensely cold, and the air +is piercing. The thirty-one have brought no torches, knowing that +the moon will rise before we reach the top. Two of the litters +are devoted to the two ladies; the third, to a rather heavy gentleman +from Naples, whose hospitality and good-nature have attached him to +the expedition, and determined him to assist in doing the honours of +the mountain. The rather heavy gentleman is carried by fifteen +men; each of the ladies by half-a-dozen. We who walk, make the +best use of our staves; and so the whole party begin to labour upward +over the snow, - as if they were toiling to the summit of an antediluvian +Twelfth-cake.<br> +<br> +We are a long time toiling up; and the head-guide looks oddly about +him when one of the company - not an Italian, though an habitué +of the mountain for many years: whom we will call, for our present purpose, +Mr. Pickle of Portici - suggests that, as it is freezing hard, and the +usual footing of ashes is covered by the snow and ice, it will surely +be difficult to descend. But the sight of the litters above, tilting +up and down, and jerking from this side to that, as the bearers continually +slip and tumble, diverts our attention; more especially as the whole +length of the rather heavy gentleman is, at that moment, presented to +us alarmingly foreshortened, with his head downwards.<br> +<br> +The rising of the moon soon afterwards, revives the flagging spirits +of the bearers. Stimulating each other with their usual watchword, +‘Courage, friend! It is to eat macaroni!’ they press +on, gallantly, for the summit.<br> +<br> +From tingeing the top of the snow above us, with a band of light, and +pouring it in a stream through the valley below, while we have been +ascending in the dark, the moon soon lights the whole white mountain-side, +and the broad sea down below, and tiny Naples in the distance, and every +village in the country round. The whole prospect is in this lovely +state, when we come upon the platform on the mountain-top - the region +of Fire - an exhausted crater formed of great masses of gigantic cinders, +like blocks of stone from some tremendous waterfall, burnt up; from +every chink and crevice of which, hot, sulphurous smoke is pouring out: +while, from another conical-shaped hill, the present crater, rising +abruptly from this platform at the end, great sheets of fire are streaming +forth: reddening the night with flame, blackening it with smoke, and +spotting it with red-hot stones and cinders, that fly up into the air +like feathers, and fall down like lead. What words can paint the +gloom and grandeur of this scene!<br> +<br> +The broken ground; the smoke; the sense of suffocation from the sulphur: +the fear of falling down through the crevices in the yawning ground; +the stopping, every now and then, for somebody who is missing in the +dark (for the dense smoke now obscures the moon); the intolerable noise +of the thirty; and the hoarse roaring of the mountain; make it a scene +of such confusion, at the same time, that we reel again. But, +dragging the ladies through it, and across another exhausted crater +to the foot of the present Volcano, we approach close to it on the windy +side, and then sit down among the hot ashes at its foot, and look up +in silence; faintly estimating the action that is going on within, from +its being full a hundred feet higher, at this minute, than it was six +weeks ago.<br> +<br> +There is something in the fire and roar, that generates an irresistible +desire to get nearer to it. We cannot rest long, without starting +off, two of us, on our hands and knees, accompanied by the head-guide, +to climb to the brim of the flaming crater, and try to look in. +Meanwhile, the thirty yell, as with one voice, that it is a dangerous +proceeding, and call to us to come back; frightening the rest of the +party out of their wits.<br> +<br> +What with their noise, and what with the trembling of the thin crust +of ground, that seems about to open underneath our feet and plunge us +in the burning gulf below (which is the real danger, if there be any); +and what with the flashing of the fire in our faces, and the shower +of red-hot ashes that is raining down, and the choking smoke and sulphur; +we may well feel giddy and irrational, like drunken men. But, +we contrive to climb up to the brim, and look down, for a moment, into +the Hell of boiling fire below. Then, we all three come rolling +down; blackened, and singed, and scorched, and hot, and giddy: and each +with his dress alight in half-a-dozen places.<br> +<br> +You have read, a thousand times, that the usual way of descending, is, +by sliding down the ashes: which, forming a gradually-increasing ledge +below the feet, prevent too rapid a descent. But, when we have +crossed the two exhausted craters on our way back and are come to this +precipitous place, there is (as Mr. Pickle has foretold) no vestige +of ashes to be seen; the whole being a smooth sheet of ice.<br> +<br> +In this dilemma, ten or a dozen of the guides cautiously join hands, +and make a chain of men; of whom the foremost beat, as well as they +can, a rough track with their sticks, down which we prepare to follow. +The way being fearfully steep, and none of the party: even of the thirty: +being able to keep their feet for six paces together, the ladies are +taken out of their litters, and placed, each between two careful persons; +while others of the thirty hold by their skirts, to prevent their falling +forward - a necessary precaution, tending to the immediate and hopeless +dilapidation of their apparel. The rather heavy gentleman is abjured +to leave his litter too, and be escorted in a similar manner; but he +resolves to be brought down as he was brought up, on the principle that +his fifteen bearers are not likely to tumble all at once, and that he +is safer so, than trusting to his own legs.<br> +<br> +In this order, we begin the descent: sometimes on foot, sometimes shuffling +on the ice: always proceeding much more quietly and slowly, than on +our upward way: and constantly alarmed by the falling among us of somebody +from behind, who endangers the footing of the whole party, and clings +pertinaciously to anybody’s ankles. It is impossible for +the litter to be in advance, too, as the track has to be made; and its +appearance behind us, overhead - with some one or other of the bearers +always down, and the rather heavy gentleman with his legs always in +the air - is very threatening and frightful. We have gone on thus, +a very little way, painfully and anxiously, but quite merrily, and regarding +it as a great success - and have all fallen several times, and have +all been stopped, somehow or other, as we were sliding away - when Mr. +Pickle of Portici, in the act of remarking on these uncommon circumstances +as quite beyond his experience, stumbles, falls, disengages himself, +with quick presence of mind, from those about him, plunges away head +foremost, and rolls, over and over, down the whole surface of the cone!<br> +<br> +Sickening as it is to look, and be so powerless to help him, I see him +there, in the moonlight - I have had such a dream often - skimming over +the white ice, like a cannon-ball. Almost at the same moment, +there is a cry from behind; and a man who has carried a light basket +of spare cloaks on his head, comes rolling past, at the same frightful +speed, closely followed by a boy. At this climax of the chapter +of accidents, the remaining eight-and-twenty vociferate to that degree, +that a pack of wolves would be music to them!<br> +<br> +Giddy, and bloody, and a mere bundle of rags, is Pickle of Portici when +we reach the place where we dismounted, and where the horses are waiting; +but, thank God, sound in limb! And never are we likely to be more +glad to see a man alive and on his feet, than to see him now - making +light of it too, though sorely bruised and in great pain. The +boy is brought into the Hermitage on the Mountain, while we are at supper, +with his head tied up; and the man is heard of, some hours afterwards. +He too is bruised and stunned, but has broken no bones; the snow having, +fortunately, covered all the larger blocks of rock and stone, and rendered +them harmless.<br> +<br> +After a cheerful meal, and a good rest before a blazing fire, we again +take horse, and continue our descent to Salvatore’s house - very +slowly, by reason of our bruised friend being hardly able to keep the +saddle, or endure the pain of motion. Though it is so late at +night, or early in the morning, all the people of the village are waiting +about the little stable-yard when we arrive, and looking up the road +by which we are expected. Our appearance is hailed with a great +clamour of tongues, and a general sensation for which in our modesty +we are somewhat at a loss to account, until, turning into the yard, +we find that one of a party of French gentlemen who were on the mountain +at the same time is lying on some straw in the stable, with a broken +limb: looking like Death, and suffering great torture; and that we were +confidently supposed to have encountered some worse accident.<br> +<br> +So ‘well returned, and Heaven be praised!’ as the cheerful +Vetturíno, who has borne us company all the way from Pisa, says, +with all his heart! And away with his ready horses, into sleeping +Naples!<br> +<br> +It wakes again to Policinelli and pickpockets, buffo singers and beggars, +rags, puppets, flowers, brightness, dirt, and universal degradation; +airing its Harlequin suit in the sunshine, next day and every day; singing, +starving, dancing, gaming, on the sea-shore; and leaving all labour +to the burning mountain, which is ever at its work.<br> +<br> +Our English dilettanti would be very pathetic on the subject of the +national taste, if they could hear an Italian opera half as badly sung +in England as we may hear the Foscari performed, to-night, in the splendid +theatre of San Carlo. But, for astonishing truth and spirit in +seizing and embodying the real life about it, the shabby little San +Carlino Theatre - the rickety house one story high, with a staring picture +outside: down among the drums and trumpets, and the tumblers, and the +lady conjurer - is without a rival anywhere.<br> +<br> +There is one extraordinary feature in the real life of Naples, at which +we may take a glance before we go - the Lotteries.<br> +<br> +They prevail in most parts of Italy, but are particularly obvious, in +their effects and influences, here. They are drawn every Saturday. +They bring an immense revenue to the Government; and diffuse a taste +for gambling among the poorest of the poor, which is very comfortable +to the coffers of the State, and very ruinous to themselves. The +lowest stake is one grain; less than a farthing. One hundred numbers +- from one to a hundred, inclusive - are put into a box. Five +are drawn. Those are the prizes. I buy three numbers. +If one of them come up, I win a small prize. If two, some hundreds +of times my stake. If three, three thousand five hundred times +my stake. I stake (or play as they call it) what I can upon my +numbers, and buy what numbers I please. The amount I play, I pay +at the lottery office, where I purchase the ticket; and it is stated +on the ticket itself.<br> +<br> +Every lottery office keeps a printed book, an Universal Lottery Diviner, +where every possible accident and circumstance is provided for, and +has a number against it. For instance, let us take two carlini +- about sevenpence. On our way to the lottery office, we run against +a black man. When we get there, we say gravely, ‘The Diviner.’ +It is handed over the counter, as a serious matter of business. +We look at black man. Such a number. ‘Give us that.’ +We look at running against a person in the street. ‘Give +us that. ’ We look at the name of the street itself. ‘Give +us that.’ Now, we have our three numbers.<br> +<br> +If the roof of the theatre of San Carlo were to fall in, so many people +would play upon the numbers attached to such an accident in the Diviner, +that the Government would soon close those numbers, and decline to run +the risk of losing any more upon them. This often happens. +Not long ago, when there was a fire in the King’s Palace, there +was such a desperate run on fire, and king, and palace, that further +stakes on the numbers attached to those words in the Golden Book were +forbidden. Every accident or event, is supposed, by the ignorant +populace, to be a revelation to the beholder, or party concerned, in +connection with the lottery. Certain people who have a talent +for dreaming fortunately, are much sought after; and there are some +priests who are constantly favoured with visions of the lucky numbers.<br> +<br> +I heard of a horse running away with a man, and dashing him down, dead, +at the corner of a street. Pursuing the horse with incredible +speed, was another man, who ran so fast, that he came up, immediately +after the accident. He threw himself upon his knees beside the +unfortunate rider, and clasped his hand with an expression of the wildest +grief. ‘If you have life,’ he said, ‘speak one +word to me! If you have one gasp of breath left, mention your +age for Heaven’s sake, that I may play that number in the lottery.’<br> +<br> +It is four o’clock in the afternoon, and we may go to see our +lottery drawn. The ceremony takes place every Saturday, in the +Tribunale, or Court of Justice - this singular, earthy-smelling room, +or gallery, as mouldy as an old cellar, and as damp as a dungeon. +At the upper end is a platform, with a large horse-shoe table upon it; +and a President and Council sitting round - all judges of the Law. +The man on the little stool behind the President, is the Capo Lazzarone, +a kind of tribune of the people, appointed on their behalf to see that +all is fairly conducted: attended by a few personal friends. A +ragged, swarthy fellow he is: with long matted hair hanging down all +over his face: and covered, from head to foot, with most unquestionably +genuine dirt. All the body of the room is filled with the commonest +of the Neapolitan people: and between them and the platform, guarding +the steps leading to the latter, is a small body of soldiers.<br> +<br> +There is some delay in the arrival of the necessary number of judges; +during which, the box, in which the numbers are being placed, is a source +of the deepest interest. When the box is full, the boy who is +to draw the numbers out of it becomes the prominent feature of the proceedings. +He is already dressed for his part, in a tight brown Holland coat, with +only one (the left) sleeve to it, which leaves his right arm bared to +the shoulder, ready for plunging down into the mysterious chest.<br> +<br> +During the hush and whisper that pervade the room, all eyes are turned +on this young minister of fortune. People begin to inquire his +age, with a view to the next lottery; and the number of his brothers +and sisters; and the age of his father and mother; and whether he has +any moles or pimples upon him; and where, and how many; when the arrival +of the last judge but one (a little old man, universally dreaded as +possessing the Evil Eye) makes a slight diversion, and would occasion +a greater one, but that he is immediately deposed, as a source of interest, +by the officiating priest, who advances gravely to his place, followed +by a very dirty little boy, carrying his sacred vestments, and a pot +of Holy Water.<br> +<br> +Here is the last judge come at last, and now he takes his place at the +horse-shoe table.<br> +<br> +There is a murmur of irrepressible agitation. In the midst of +it, the priest puts his head into the sacred vestments, and pulls the +same over his shoulders. Then he says a silent prayer; and dipping +a brush into the pot of Holy Water, sprinkles it over the box - and +over the boy, and gives them a double-barrelled blessing, which the +box and the boy are both hoisted on the table to receive. The +boy remaining on the table, the box is now carried round the front of +the platform, by an attendant, who holds it up and shakes it lustily +all the time; seeming to say, like the conjurer, ‘There is no +deception, ladies and gentlemen; keep your eyes upon me, if you please!’<br> +<br> +At last, the box is set before the boy; and the boy, first holding up +his naked arm and open hand, dives down into the hole (it is made like +a ballot-box) and pulls out a number, which is rolled up, round something +hard, like a bonbon. This he hands to the judge next him, who +unrolls a little bit, and hands it to the President, next to whom he +sits. The President unrolls it, very slowly. The Capo Lazzarone +leans over his shoulder. The President holds it up, unrolled, +to the Capo Lazzarone. The Capo Lazzarone, looking at it eagerly, +cries out, in a shrill, loud voice, ‘Sessantadue!’ (sixty-two), +expressing the two upon his fingers, as he calls it out. Alas! +the Capo Lazzarone himself has not staked on sixty-two. His face +is very long, and his eyes roll wildly.<br> +<br> +As it happens to be a favourite number, however, it is pretty well received, +which is not always the case. They are all drawn with the same +ceremony, omitting the blessing. One blessing is enough for the +whole multiplication-table. The only new incident in the proceedings, +is the gradually deepening intensity of the change in the Cape Lazzarone, +who has, evidently, speculated to the very utmost extent of his means; +and who, when he sees the last number, and finds that it is not one +of his, clasps his hands, and raises his eyes to the ceiling before +proclaiming it, as though remonstrating, in a secret agony, with his +patron saint, for having committed so gross a breach of confidence. +I hope the Capo Lazzarone may not desert him for some other member of +the Calendar, but he seems to threaten it.<br> +<br> +Where the winners may be, nobody knows. They certainly are not +present; the general disappointment filling one with pity for the poor +people. They look: when we stand aside, observing them, in their +passage through the court-yard down below: as miserable as the prisoners +in the gaol (it forms a part of the building), who are peeping down +upon them, from between their bars; or, as the fragments of human heads +which are still dangling in chains outside, in memory of the good old +times, when their owners were strung up there, for the popular edification.<br> +<br> +Away from Naples in a glorious sunrise, by the road to Capua, and then +on a three days’ journey along by-roads, that we may see, on the +way, the monastery of Monte Cassino, which is perched on the steep and +lofty hill above the little town of San Germano, and is lost on a misty +morning in the clouds.<br> +<br> +So much the better, for the deep sounding of its bell, which, as we +go winding up, on mules, towards the convent, is heard mysteriously +in the still air, while nothing is seen but the grey mist, moving solemnly +and slowly, like a funeral procession. Behold, at length the shadowy +pile of building close before us: its grey walls and towers dimly seen, +though so near and so vast: and the raw vapour rolling through its cloisters +heavily.<br> +<br> +There are two black shadows walking to and fro in the quadrangle, near +the statues of the Patron Saint and his sister; and hopping on behind +them, in and out of the old arches, is a raven, croaking in answer to +the bell, and uttering, at intervals, the purest Tuscan. How like +a Jesuit he looks! There never was a sly and stealthy fellow so +at home as is this raven, standing now at the refectory door, with his +head on one side, and pretending to glance another way, while he is +scrutinizing the visitors keenly, and listening with fixed attention. +What a dull-headed monk the porter becomes in comparison!<br> +<br> +‘He speaks like us!’ says the porter: ‘quite as plainly.’ +Quite as plainly, Porter. Nothing could be more expressive than +his reception of the peasants who are entering the gate with baskets +and burdens. There is a roll in his eye, and a chuckle in his +throat, which should qualify him to be chosen Superior of an Order of +Ravens. He knows all about it. ‘It’s all right,’ +he says. ‘We know what we know. Come along, good people. +Glad to see you!’ How was this extraordinary structure ever +built in such a situation, where the labour of conveying the stone, +and iron, and marble, so great a height, must have been prodigious? +‘Caw!’ says the raven, welcoming the peasants. How, +being despoiled by plunder, fire and earthquake, has it risen from its +ruins, and been again made what we now see it, with its church so sumptuous +and magnificent? ‘Caw!’ says the raven, welcoming +the peasants. These people have a miserable appearance, and (as +usual) are densely ignorant, and all beg, while the monks are chaunting +in the chapel. ‘Caw!’ says the raven, ‘Cuckoo!’<br> +<br> +So we leave him, chuckling and rolling his eye at the convent gate, +and wind slowly down again through the cloud. At last emerging +from it, we come in sight of the village far below, and the flat green +country intersected by rivulets; which is pleasant and fresh to see +after the obscurity and haze of the convent - no disrespect to the raven, +or the holy friars.<br> +<br> +Away we go again, by muddy roads, and through the most shattered and +tattered of villages, where there is not a whole window among all the +houses, or a whole garment among all the peasants, or the least appearance +of anything to eat, in any of the wretched hucksters’ shops. +The women wear a bright red bodice laced before and behind, a white +skirt, and the Neapolitan head-dress of square folds of linen, primitively +meant to carry loads on. The men and children wear anything they +can get. The soldiers are as dirty and rapacious as the dogs. +The inns are such hobgoblin places, that they are infinitely more attractive +and amusing than the best hotels in Paris. Here is one near Valmontone +(that is Valmontone the round, walled town on the mount opposite), which +is approached by a quagmire almost knee-deep. There is a wild +colonnade below, and a dark yard full of empty stables and lofts, and +a great long kitchen with a great long bench and a great long form, +where a party of travellers, with two priests among them, are crowding +round the fire while their supper is cooking. Above stairs, is +a rough brick gallery to sit in, with very little windows with very +small patches of knotty glass in them, and all the doors that open from +it (a dozen or two) off their hinges, and a bare board on tressels for +a table, at which thirty people might dine easily, and a fireplace large +enough in itself for a breakfast-parlour, where, as the faggots blaze +and crackle, they illuminate the ugliest and grimmest of faces, drawn +in charcoal on the whitewashed chimney-sides by previous travellers. +There is a flaring country lamp on the table; and, hovering about it, +scratching her thick black hair continually, a yellow dwarf of a woman, +who stands on tiptoe to arrange the hatchet knives, and takes a flying +leap to look into the water-jug. The beds in the adjoining rooms +are of the liveliest kind. There is not a solitary scrap of looking-glass +in the house, and the washing apparatus is identical with the cooking +utensils. But the yellow dwarf sets on the table a good flask +of excellent wine, holding a quart at least; and produces, among half-a-dozen +other dishes, two-thirds of a roasted kid, smoking hot. She is +as good-humoured, too, as dirty, which is saying a great deal. +So here’s long life to her, in the flask of wine, and prosperity +to the establishment.<br> +<br> +Rome gained and left behind, and with it the Pilgrims who are now repairing +to their own homes again - each with his scallop shell and staff, and +soliciting alms for the love of God - we come, by a fair country, to +the Falls of Terni, where the whole Velino river dashes, headlong, from +a rocky height, amidst shining spray and rainbows. Perugia, strongly +fortified by art and nature, on a lofty eminence, rising abruptly from +the plain where purple mountains mingle with the distant sky, is glowing, +on its market-day, with radiant colours. They set off its sombre +but rich Gothic buildings admirably. The pavement of its market-place +is strewn with country goods. All along the steep hill leading +from the town, under the town wall, there is a noisy fair of calves, +lambs, pigs, horses, mules, and oxen. Fowls, geese, and turkeys, +flutter vigorously among their very hoofs; and buyers, sellers, and +spectators, clustering everywhere, block up the road as we come shouting +down upon them.<br> +<br> +Suddenly, there is a ringing sound among our horses. The driver +stops them. Sinking in his saddle, and casting up his eyes to +Heaven, he delivers this apostrophe, ‘Oh Jove Omnipotent! here +is a horse has lost his shoe!’<br> +<br> +Notwithstanding the tremendous nature of this accident, and the utterly +forlorn look and gesture (impossible in any one but an Italian Vetturíno) +with which it is announced, it is not long in being repaired by a mortal +Farrier, by whose assistance we reach Castiglione the same night, and +Arezzo next day. Mass is, of course, performing in its fine cathedral, +where the sun shines in among the clustered pillars, through rich stained-glass +windows: half revealing, half concealing the kneeling figures on the +pavement, and striking out paths of spotted light in the long aisles.<br> +<br> +But, how much beauty of another kind is here, when, on a fair clear +morning, we look, from the summit of a hill, on Florence! See +where it lies before us in a sun-lighted valley, bright with the winding +Arno, and shut in by swelling hills; its domes, and towers, and palaces, +rising from the rich country in a glittering heap, and shining in the +sun like gold!<br> +<br> +Magnificently stern and sombre are the streets of beautiful Florence; +and the strong old piles of building make such heaps of shadow, on the +ground and in the river, that there is another and a different city +of rich forms and fancies, always lying at our feet. Prodigious +palaces, constructed for defence, with small distrustful windows heavily +barred, and walls of great thickness formed of huge masses of rough +stone, frown, in their old sulky state, on every street. In the +midst of the city - in the Piazza of the Grand Duke, adorned with beautiful +statues and the Fountain of Neptune - rises the Palazzo Vecchio, with +its enormous overhanging battlements, and the Great Tower that watches +over the whole town. In its court-yard - worthy of the Castle +of Otranto in its ponderous gloom - is a massive staircase that the +heaviest waggon and the stoutest team of horses might be driven up. +Within it, is a Great Saloon, faded and tarnished in its stately decorations, +and mouldering by grains, but recording yet, in pictures on its walls, +the triumphs of the Medici and the wars of the old Florentine people. +The prison is hard by, in an adjacent court-yard of the building - a +foul and dismal place, where some men are shut up close, in small cells +like ovens; and where others look through bars and beg; where some are +playing draughts, and some are talking to their friends, who smoke, +the while, to purify the air; and some are buying wine and fruit of +women-vendors; and all are squalid, dirty, and vile to look at. +‘They are merry enough, Signore,’ says the jailer. +‘They are all blood-stained here,’ he adds, indicating, +with his hand, three-fourths of the whole building. Before the +hour is out, an old man, eighty years of age, quarrelling over a bargain +with a young girl of seventeen, stabs her dead, in the market-place +full of bright flowers; and is brought in prisoner, to swell the number.<br> +<br> +Among the four old bridges that span the river, the Ponte Vecchio - +that bridge which is covered with the shops of Jewellers and Goldsmiths +- is a most enchanting feature in the scene. The space of one +house, in the centre, being left open, the view beyond is shown as in +a frame; and that precious glimpse of sky, and water, and rich buildings, +shining so quietly among the huddled roofs and gables on the bridge, +is exquisite. Above it, the Gallery of the Grand Duke crosses +the river. It was built to connect the two Great Palaces by a +secret passage; and it takes its jealous course among the streets and +houses, with true despotism: going where it lists, and spurning every +obstacle away, before it.<br> +<br> +The Grand Duke has a worthier secret passage through the streets, in +his black robe and hood, as a member of the Compagnia della Misericordia, +which brotherhood includes all ranks of men. If an accident take +place, their office is, to raise the sufferer, and bear him tenderly +to the Hospital. If a fire break out, it is one of their functions +to repair to the spot, and render their assistance and protection. +It is, also, among their commonest offices, to attend and console the +sick; and they neither receive money, nor eat, nor drink, in any house +they visit for this purpose. Those who are on duty for the time, +are all called together, on a moment’s notice, by the tolling +of the great bell of the Tower; and it is said that the Grand Duke has +been seen, at this sound, to rise from his seat at table, and quietly +withdraw to attend the summons.<br> +<br> +In this other large Piazza, where an irregular kind of market is held, +and stores of old iron and other small merchandise are set out on stalls, +or scattered on the pavement, are grouped together, the Cathedral with +its great Dome, the beautiful Italian Gothic Tower the Campanile, and +the Baptistery with its wrought bronze doors. And here, a small +untrodden square in the pavement, is ‘the Stone of DANTE,’ +where (so runs the story) he was used to bring his stool, and sit in +contemplation. I wonder was he ever, in his bitter exile, withheld +from cursing the very stones in the streets of Florence the ungrateful, +by any kind remembrance of this old musing-place, and its association +with gentle thoughts of little Beatrice!<br> +<br> +The chapel of the Medici, the Good and Bad Angels, of Florence; the +church of Santa Croce where Michael Angelo lies buried, and where every +stone in the cloisters is eloquent on great men’s deaths; innumerable +churches, often masses of unfinished heavy brickwork externally, but +solemn and serene within; arrest our lingering steps, in strolling through +the city.<br> +<br> +In keeping with the tombs among the cloisters, is the Museum of Natural +History, famous through the world for its preparations in wax; beginning +with models of leaves, seeds, plants, inferior animals; and gradually +ascending, through separate organs of the human frame, up to the whole +structure of that wonderful creation, exquisitely presented, as in recent +death. Few admonitions of our frail mortality can be more solemn +and more sad, or strike so home upon the heart, as the counterfeits +of Youth and Beauty that are lying there, upon their beds, in their +last sleep.<br> +<br> +Beyond the walls, the whole sweet Valley of the Arno, the convent at +Fiesole, the Tower of Galileo, BOCCACCIO’S house, old villas and +retreats; innumerable spots of interest, all glowing in a landscape +of surpassing beauty steeped in the richest light; are spread before +us. Returning from so much brightness, how solemn and how grand +the streets again, with their great, dark, mournful palaces, and many +legends: not of siege, and war, and might, and Iron Hand alone, but +of the triumphant growth of peaceful Arts and Sciences.<br> +<br> +What light is shed upon the world, at this day, from amidst these rugged +Palaces of Florence! Here, open to all comers, in their beautiful +and calm retreats, the ancient Sculptors are immortal, side by side +with Michael Angelo, Canova, Titian, Rembrandt, Raphael, Poets, Historians, +Philosophers - those illustrious men of history, beside whom its crowned +heads and harnessed warriors show so poor and small, and are so soon +forgotten. Here, the imperishable part of noble minds survives, +placid and equal, when strongholds of assault and defence are overthrown; +when the tyranny of the many, or the few, or both, is but a tale; when +Pride and Power are so much cloistered dust. The fire within the +stern streets, and among the massive Palaces and Towers, kindled by +rays from Heaven, is still burning brightly, when the flickering of +war is extinguished and the household fires of generations have decayed; +as thousands upon thousands of faces, rigid with the strife and passion +of the hour, have faded out of the old Squares and public haunts, while +the nameless Florentine Lady, preserved from oblivion by a Painter’s +hand, yet lives on, in enduring grace and youth.<br> +<br> +Let us look back on Florence while we may, and when its shining Dome +is seen no more, go travelling through cheerful Tuscany, with a bright +remembrance of it; for Italy will be the fairer for the recollection. +The summer-time being come: and Genoa, and Milan, and the Lake of Como +lying far behind us: and we resting at Faido, a Swiss village, near +the awful rocks and mountains, the everlasting snows and roaring cataracts, +of the Great Saint Gothard: hearing the Italian tongue for the last +time on this journey: let us part from Italy, with all its miseries +and wrongs, affectionately, in our admiration of the beauties, natural +and artificial, of which it is full to overflowing, and in our tenderness +towards a people, naturally well-disposed, and patient, and sweet-tempered. +Years of neglect, oppression, and misrule, have been at work, to change +their nature and reduce their spirit; miserable jealousies, fomented +by petty Princes to whom union was destruction, and division strength, +have been a canker at their root of nationality, and have barbarized +their language; but the good that was in them ever, is in them yet, +and a noble people may be, one day, raised up from these ashes. +Let us entertain that hope! And let us not remember Italy the +less regardfully, because, in every fragment of her fallen Temples, +and every stone of her deserted palaces and prisons, she helps to inculcate +the lesson that the wheel of Time is rolling for an end, and that the +world is, in all great essentials, better, gentler, more forbearing, +and more hopeful, as it rolls!<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +Footnotes:<br> +<br> +<a name="footnote1"></a><a href="#citation1">{1}</a> This was +written in 1846.<br> +<br> +<a name="footnote2"></a><a href="#citation2">{2}</a> A far more +liberal and just recognition of the public has arisen in Westminster +Abbey since this was written.<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +<br> +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, PICTURES FROM ITALY ***<br> +<pre> + +******This file should be named picit10h.htm or picit10h.zip****** +Corrected EDITIONS of our EBooks get a new NUMBER, picit11h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, picit10ah.htm + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we usually do not +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our eBooks one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to tell us about any error or corrections, +even years after the official publication date. + +Please note neither this listing nor its contents are final til +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg eBooks is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our Web sites at: +http://gutenberg.net or +http://promo.net/pg + +These Web sites include award-winning information about Project +Gutenberg, including how to donate, how to help produce our new +eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter (free!). + + +Those of you who want to download any eBook before announcement +can get to them as follows, and just download by date. This is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://www.ibiblio.org/gutenberg/etext04 or +ftp://ftp.ibiblio.org/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext04 + +Or /etext03, 02, 01, 00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any eBook selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. Our +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If the value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour in 2002 as we release over 100 new text +files per month: 1240 more eBooks in 2001 for a total of 4000+ +We are already on our way to trying for 2000 more eBooks in 2002 +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +will reach over half a trillion eBooks given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away 1 Trillion eBooks! +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +Here is the briefest record of our progress (* means estimated): + +eBooks Year Month + + 1 1971 July + 10 1991 January + 100 1994 January + 1000 1997 August + 1500 1998 October + 2000 1999 December + 2500 2000 December + 3000 2001 November + 4000 2001 October/November + 6000 2002 December* + 9000 2003 November* +10000 2004 January* + + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been created +to secure a future for Project Gutenberg into the next millennium. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +As of February, 2002, contributions are being solicited from people +and organizations in: Alabama, Alaska, Arkansas, Connecticut, +Delaware, District of Columbia, Florida, Georgia, Hawaii, Illinois, +Indiana, Iowa, Kansas, Kentucky, Louisiana, Maine, Massachusetts, +Michigan, Mississippi, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, Nevada, New +Hampshire, New Jersey, New Mexico, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, +Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, South +Dakota, Tennessee, Texas, Utah, Vermont, Virginia, Washington, West +Virginia, Wisconsin, and Wyoming. + +We have filed in all 50 states now, but these are the only ones +that have responded. + +As the requirements for other states are met, additions to this list +will be made and fund raising will begin in the additional states. +Please feel free to ask to check the status of your state. + +In answer to various questions we have received on this: + +We are constantly working on finishing the paperwork to legally +request donations in all 50 states. If your state is not listed and +you would like to know if we have added it since the list you have, +just ask. + +While we cannot solicit donations from people in states where we are +not yet registered, we know of no prohibition against accepting +donations from donors in these states who approach us with an offer to +donate. + +International donations are accepted, but we don't know ANYTHING about +how to make them tax-deductible, or even if they CAN be made +deductible, and don't have the staff to handle it even if there are +ways. + +Donations by check or money order may be sent to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655-4109 + +Contact us if you want to arrange for a wire transfer or payment +method other than by check or money order. + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation has been approved by +the US Internal Revenue Service as a 501(c)(3) organization with EIN +[Employee Identification Number] 64-622154. Donations are +tax-deductible to the maximum extent permitted by law. As fund-raising +requirements for other states are met, additions to this list will be +made and fund-raising will begin in the additional states. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information online at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +If you can't reach Project Gutenberg, +you can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart hart@pobox.com + +Prof. Hart will answer or forward your message. + +We would prefer to send you information by email. + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this eBook, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you may distribute copies of this eBook if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS EBOOK +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +eBook, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this eBook by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this eBook on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM EBOOKS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBooks, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this eBook +under the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +Please do not use the "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark to market +any commercial products without permission. + +To create these eBooks, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's eBooks and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other eBook medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] Michael Hart and the Foundation (and any other party you may +receive this eBook from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm eBook) disclaims +all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this eBook within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS EBOOK IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE EBOOK OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold Michael Hart, the Foundation, +and its trustees and agents, and any volunteers associated +with the production and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm +texts harmless, from all liability, cost and expense, including +legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the +following that you do or cause: [1] distribution of this eBook, +[2] alteration, modification, or addition to the eBook, +or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this eBook electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + eBook or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this eBook in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The eBook, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The eBook may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the eBook (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + eBook in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the eBook refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Foundation of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +Project Gutenberg is dedicated to increasing the number of +public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed +in machine readable form. + +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain materials, or royalty free copyright licenses. +Money should be paid to the: +"Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +[Portions of this eBook's header and trailer may be reprinted only +when distributed free of all fees. Copyright (C) 2001, 2002 by +Michael S. Hart. Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be +used in any sales of Project Gutenberg eBooks or other materials be +they hardware or software or any other related product without +express permission.] + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* +</pre></body> +</html> diff --git a/old/picit10h.zip b/old/picit10h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a4c19a8 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/picit10h.zip |
