(/•g-^J^^^ 
 
 A TOUR 
 
 TO AND FKOM VENICE, 
 
 BY THE 
 
 VAUDOIS AND THE TYROL. 
 
 LOUISA STUART COSTELLO, 
 
 AUTHOR Ol' " A SUMMER AMONGST THE BOCCAGES AND THE VINES, 
 " THE ROSE GARDEN OF PERSIA," 
 
 ETC. ETC. 
 
 Fjundi'y contemplation of my travels, in which my often rumination wraps me . 
 is a most humourous sadness." — As You Like It. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 JOHN OLLIVIER, 59, PALL MALL. 
 
 1846. 
 

TO HIS GRACE 
 THE DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE, 
 
 TO WHOM HER OBLIGATIONS ARE MANY FOR HIS INDULGENT 
 KINDNESS AND COURTESY, 
 
 THIS VOLUME IS INSCRIBED 
 
 LOUISA STUART COSTELLO. 
 
 369219 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 To almost every traveller in the North of Italy 
 Venice is known ; to every painter, poet, and ad- 
 mirer of the arts, that beautiful city is dear ; and 
 so well and so much has it been described, that the 
 stranger imagines he is already acquainted with all 
 the details of beauty which belong to its fairy land : 
 but on his arrival at the spot where those palaces of 
 the Fata Morgana rise out of the enshrining sea, he 
 finds that all is new, all is startling, all is fresh, as 
 though he had never looked on a Canaletti, or read 
 a line of description of the most bewitching of all 
 places in the world of fancy or reality. 
 
 Those who know Venice may not object to com- 
 pare the impressions of the last comer with their 
 own ; those who do not, may be excited to visit the 
 lovely gem of the Adriatic, and already the road to 
 it is strewn with flowers and spread with velvet ; the 
 rail-road from Venice to Padua is completed, and 
 others are in active progression to Milan, to Turin, 
 to the Lago Maggiore. From London to Paris is a 
 rapid journey, from Paris to Lyons will shortly be 
 as quick, and, very soon, it will be nearly the work 
 of a few idle days to visit the shores of the Lido, 
 and to *swim in a gondola.' 
 
VI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Then, how many charming pauses may be made 
 between ! what mountains, and lakes, and cities may 
 be seen on the way, at (he stations in the North of 
 Italy! 
 
 It will be as easy to go to Venice as to Belgium > 
 and who will resist the temptation, having even only 
 a week or two to spare ? 
 
 Travellers whose time is their own, journeying 
 thus without fatigue, will linger long on their route, 
 and, according to their enthusiasm, will regulate 
 their movements ; but to travellers of all descriptions 
 Venice may become as familiar as Paris before very 
 much time has elapsed, and to those who are fond 
 of roaming I offer these sketches, as the latest 
 which they may choose to guide them on their 
 envied way. 
 
A TOUR TO AND FROM VENICE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE ENTRANCE BY SAVOY. 
 
 BOURG— COSTUME — BELLEY— THE RHONE — LAGO BORGHETTO — 
 
 SUNSET ON THE MOUNTAINS — ILLUMINATION — CHAMBERY 
 
 MUSIC— PALACE — WALKS — CATHEDRAL — THE FAVOURITE 
 
 FORMS AND COLOURS ST. REAL — VENICE PRESERVED. 
 
 June had just promised summer suns and cloud- 
 less skies, after the cold and ungenial spring of 1845, 
 when, with the intention of visiting all that Italy 
 could spare of her beautiful scenes, during a short 
 tour, I left Paris, and traversed that least interesting 
 part of France to the eye, which leads towards 
 Savoy. 
 
 Our route was by the railroad to Orleans, and 
 from thence by Bourges, to which curious old town 
 many pleasing recollections of former rambles attach 
 themselves in my mind, and, after leaving Moulins, 
 the remainder of the way was new to me. Macon* 
 
 * Macon has an unhappy celebrity in the history of the perse- 
 cutions of the sixteenth century, when the city, after great resis- 
 tance, was taken by Marshal Tavannes, and subjected to his cruel- 
 ties. It was given up to plunder, and yielded a good harvest 
 
 B 
 
2 COSTUME. 
 
 and Bourg 1 had not passed before ; and here I was 
 amused at the female costume, particularly at the 
 latter place, where a round black beaver hat is worn, 
 the little crown of which is covered with rows of 
 lace, as well as the brim, over which dangje, in the 
 wearer's face, four long lappets of black silk edged 
 with lace: a gold cord and tassels complete the 
 head-dress, which is the strangest and least con- 
 venient of any in this part of the country, yet not 
 unbecoming to a pretty face, few of which I, how- 
 ever, saw. 
 
 We reached the charming town of Belley, which 
 
 to the Catholic conquerors. It appears that Madame de Tavannes 
 had a peculiar genius for discovering Huguenot hidden treasure, 
 and for her part of the spoil had no less than one hundred and 
 eighty trunks of moveahles, as Beza relates, " besides the yam- 
 stuffs, all sorts of linen, as bed-clothes, table-cloths, and napkins, 
 wherewith Macon was reputed to be better furnished than any 
 other city in France. As to the ransoms, rings, utensils and 
 other precious things, the value is not known, but only so far, 
 that those who had the management of such affairs, said to their 
 friends, that Tavannes got there as much as would have purchased 
 ten thousand Uvres a year." 
 
 The " Leaps of Macon" are of as horrible fame as the ** Noyades 
 of Nantes." The governor appointed by Tavannes to guard the 
 city was a wretch named St. Poinct, who made it a practice to 
 give feasts to the rank and fashion of Macon, and then indulged 
 them with an exhibition which was called *' The Farce of St. 
 Poinct," and consisted in making some Protestant prisoner leap 
 from the bridge into the Saone, where he was drowned. This 
 delectable entertainment was much enjoyed by the orthodox ladies 
 who beheld it. 
 
THE RHONE. 
 
 stands amongst groves of perfumed trees and is sur- 
 rounded by meadows full of glowing flowers, when 
 we began the descent of a fine bold mountain rising 
 above the majestic Rhone, a river, grand and glorious 
 wherever its deep blue waters appear, whether pur- 
 ple and transparent, rushing wildly through the 
 streets of Geneva, or ushering the traveller into 
 Savoy beside beetling rocks and caverns echoing to 
 the hoarse murmurs of its troubled surges. 
 
 A fairy suspension-bridge, one of those wonders 
 of art, placed as if to startle the lover of rude nature, 
 as he gazes on the triumph of man's industry amidst 
 scenes whose sublimity seems formed for solitude 
 alone, conducts the traveller across the river. 
 
 Here the officials of the Sardinian Government 
 exercise their ofiice and their vigilance, disturbing 
 the effect produced on the mind by the first sight 
 of a stupendous line of rocky cliffs by which the 
 onward road lies. These seem to meet and close the 
 way, till, at length, they give place to magnificent 
 groves of trees, to spreading corn fields and vines, 
 whose festoons are already allowed to take a broader 
 sweep than those of receding France. 
 
 It was in the early evening of a brilliant day that 
 we ascended the mountain whose zigzag road leads 
 towards Aix les Bains, our destination for the night. 
 Thick forests of dark fir-trees rose on either side, 
 through the boughs of which the sun gleamed richly, 
 throwing chequered lines of gold over the winding path. 
 The birds were loud in their rejoicings that a happy 
 
 B 2 
 
4 SUN-SET ON THE MOUNTAINS. 
 
 season seemed beginning, likely to increase in bright- 
 ness and warmth with each ripening day. 
 
 Presently the scene assumed a darker and wilder 
 character as we reached the summit of the moun- 
 tain, and, in a few minutes, the toilsome pace we 
 had travelled for some time was exchanged for one 
 quicker and more cheerful, as we commenced the 
 descent. Before us the continued winding of the 
 road disclosed, through openings in the woods, 
 ranges of mountains crowding over each other, of 
 different heights, all coloured by the vivid rays of 
 the now declining sun : some of an emerald green, 
 some a shining grey, and some tinged with a rich 
 deep brown. Far below, in the plain, lay, like a 
 gem, a beautiful transparent lake, surrounded by 
 high hills, whose dark forms were coloured of the 
 deepest violet. While we were gazing on this 
 charming vision, the sun sunk suddenly behind a 
 huge stony mass, and, in an instant, a blaze of 
 splendour was sent up which gave the whole scene 
 the effect of magic. The violet hills became spotted 
 and streaked with hues reflected from clouds which 
 appeared all of gold, and were hovering over their 
 sunimits : the lines of strata came out soon after, 
 clearly defined in the liquid light as though the 
 interior riches of a mine were being pointed out : 
 this grew more and more intense, till every ledge 
 and projecting angle caught the glow and blazed out 
 burnished and glittering with ruddier strength. 
 Then appeared tints of metallic green and purple, 
 
LA GO BORGHETTO. 5 
 
 like those on the changing wings of tropical birds ; 
 sometimes they faded a moment to return still more 
 brilliant than before, till at length every other 
 colour disappeared, and the whole range of moun- 
 tains, near and distant, became one mass of ruddy 
 golden light, as if the wide region had suddenly 
 taken fire. 
 
 The lake below reflected all these changes, 
 lying like a magic mirror to receive the wondrous 
 pictures which passed over its surface. 
 
 At the time that the transforming hand of 
 approaching night was working these wonders, we 
 were descending the steep road, turning and winding 
 till we thought the mountain would never cease to 
 shew us the variegated face of the lovely Largo 
 Borghetto, and its surrounding hills of burnished 
 gold. 
 
 At length we reached the town of Bourget, and 
 there learnt that the recent rains had so much 
 injured the road to Aix, that it was scarcely prudent 
 to continue our route thither, as the shades were 
 becoming deeper: we decided, therefore, to proceed 
 to Chambery, and for more than an hour drove along 
 a road perfectly level, bordered with a triple row of 
 poplars. 
 
 As we approached Chambery we observed an 
 unusual quantity of light : and long lines of houses, 
 all gay with illuminations, began to disclose them- 
 selves by degrees, till every tower and pinnacle 
 and outline of the town came out in glittering 
 
6.. ILLUMINATION. 
 
 relief against the sky, and announced a public 
 rejoicing for the arrival of the King of Sardinia, 
 who Wens just come to pay a visit to his good subjects 
 in this part of Savoy. We drove up to an enormous 
 hotel, all blazing with rows of lights in every 
 window, and our fears of finding no room were 
 instantly dispelled by the attendant spirits of this 
 enchanted palace, where the first impression of the 
 vastness of Italian inns was made, as 1 entered the 
 spacious apartments allotted me. 
 
 It was true that morning somewhat destroyed 
 the illusion that I was in a palace, as the finely 
 inlaid boarded floors were then discovered to be far 
 from clean, and the streams of melted wax which 
 had poured down the walls were less graceful than 
 the brilliancy they had given birth to on the 
 previous evening. 
 
 The sun was still propitious to us, and we walked 
 about the town of Chambery on the day after our 
 arrival, which was Sunday, enjoying its beauties, 
 which are probably not always so apparent. In 
 general this first town in Savoy is dull and deserted, 
 but the presence of a royal personage had given 
 much life and bustle to the place. Groups of mili- 
 tary were seen in the streets, some easily recognised 
 as amateurs, who had assumed a warlike guise only 
 for the time, in honour of the king ; gaily dressed 
 townspeople walked arm in arm ; and the women's 
 strange head-dresses of embroidered muslin, being- 
 clean and white, had even a picturesque effect, though 
 
CHAMBERY. 
 
 not graceful in themselves, being flat as a plate and 
 round, placed at the back of their heads. They 
 wear short waists, are clumsy, and have little grace 
 or beauty to boast of. 
 
 I never remember to have heard such unpleasing 
 military music as at Chambery : the drums and fifes, 
 which did much duty on this day, seemed all 
 wooden, and only succeeded in making a deafening 
 noise, as they swept proudly along past windows 
 where numerous tiny blue flags, semee with white 
 crosses, shewed the loyalty of the inhabitants. 
 
 There are many fountains in the town, but none 
 of any elegance ; the streets are wide and clean, and 
 one street of arcades is very handsome. 
 
 The old palace of the Dukes of Savoy is a lofty 
 and imposing building, preserving many vestiges of 
 its original antique towers and battlements. It is 
 now the residence of the Governor, and the King 
 was lodged there during his stay, which was expected 
 to be short, as the object of his visit was to learn 
 particulars respecting a dreadful fire which had 
 destroyed the town of Sallenches, and rendered it 
 the sad wreck which we afterwards saw on passing 
 through it on our return from Chamouny. 
 
 The chapel of the Ducal palace is very elegant in 
 its form, and some of the ancient painted glass still 
 glows in the long delicate windows, though modern 
 taste has done much to destroy its effect. From the 
 flight of steps at the chapel door the sudden appa- 
 rition of a range of rocky peaks, of grotesque form, 
 
8 THE FAVOURITE CATHEDRAL. 
 
 is Startling as they rise between the trees at a 
 distance. There is a pretty shady public walk near, 
 which, of course, formerly formed part of the castle 
 court, and the hills from hence, though of rather 
 clumsy form, have a certain air in their singularity 
 not displeasing. There is nothing very remarkable 
 in the Cathedral, which is profusely ornamented, and 
 the roof richly fretted like net-work, in a style 
 which does not satisfy the lover of the pure Gothic. 
 I could not help contrasting it with the unrivalled 
 church of dilapidated Bourges, which I had just had 
 time to revisit for a few moments on my journey 
 from Orleans. 
 
 Many hours had I passed formerly under the 
 magnificentlybeautifulroof of St. Etienne of Bourges, 
 always in admiration of its grandeur and sublimity, 
 but never did it appear to me finer than when I last 
 paid it my hurried homage en passant. High mass 
 was being performed, and the dark solemn lofty aisles 
 echoed to the rich full tones of the organ, and the 
 clear deep voices of the choristers : streams of rain- 
 bow light checquered the marble floor from the 
 finest tinted glass in the world, and the ruby, emerald, 
 and sapphire of the countless windows blazed through 
 the deep gloom, dispelling and adorning it. But that 
 a journey to Italy promised so much, I should 
 scarcely have been restrained from lingering long in 
 that favourite retreat, and once more exploring the 
 mysteries of the city of Jacques Cceur,one of the spots 
 w hich most interested me in my former wanderings. 
 
FORMS AND COLOURS. V 
 
 Strangely different are the churches of Savoy; 
 and, at first, the passion for painting, gilding, and 
 adornment apparent in this region, strikes the 
 admirer of purer and simpler taste with something 
 like disgust, which is only to be dispelled when the 
 gawdy colouring he sees in imitation is exchanged 
 for true marble, of every bright and soft hue 
 and shade, that the most delicate pencil could de- 
 lineate. To me, for instance, wedded as I have 
 been to the sombre severity of Norman and Saxon 
 architecture, accustomed to grope in shadow for the 
 exquisite foliage, the graceful wreathes and flowers 
 of stone which conceal themselves in the huge 
 masses, which they succeed in rendering light and 
 graceful by their persevering embraces, to me, even 
 the really lovely marbles of Italy, the pink, and 
 yellow, and red, and green pillars, crowned with 
 golden capitals, the mosaic roofs of every colour, 
 and the chapels glittering with riches of every de- 
 scription, appeared at first sight flaring and gaudy, 
 and unworthy to compare with my beloved Gothic : 
 even as the unclouded sk}^, blue, intensely blue, 
 without a shade, dazzled rather than pleased my eye. 
 
 The stranger often, doubtless, experiences this 
 first disappointment, on finding himself suddenly in 
 new and unaccustomed scenes ; his resource must be 
 to " bide his time," and his patience will be re- 
 warded : hia eye becomes educated, and as he 
 begins to understand what he sees, he gives every 
 new scene credit for the beauties it affords him. 
 
iO "VENICE PRESERVED. 
 
 Tf 
 
 As for enchanting Italy, whoever enters its magi- 
 cal precincts coldly, quits it, even if he have only 
 beheld its threshold as I did, a devotee ; and as for 
 Venice, where I, alas ! took my leave of Italy, who- 
 ever sees that " city of the heart,'* wonders how he 
 has existed before he become a lover of the most 
 mysteriously poetical of all places under the sun. 
 So, perhaps, thought St. Real, the ingenious author 
 of the " Conjuration des Espagnoles contre Venice," 
 who was born at Chambery. His very curious 
 work is so well written, and with such an appear- 
 ance of truth, that it is difficult to regard the nar- 
 rative as otherwise than authentic. To us 
 
 " it hath a spell beyond its name'* — 
 Since it furnished Otway with the subject, and most 
 of the characters, of his famous and beautifully 
 pathetic play. Belvidera is the only imaginary 
 personage in the piece, and the fate of the conspira- 
 tors, though as tragical, is not followed, for obvious 
 reasons, by the poet. He has seized the character 
 of Pierre with great ability, and has caught the 
 spirit of the plot with singular fidelity : the charac- 
 ters of Bedomar and of Renault might have been 
 made more of, had he written a romance instead of 
 a play, but, in dramatic compositions intended for 
 the stage, it is difficult for any one but Shakespeare, 
 to condense a whole life into an hour successfully. 
 
 St. Real makes Jaques Pierre a Norman and a 
 corsair, renowned as the most gallant captain of his 
 time, with a spirit and manners beyond the wild 
 
** VENICE PRESERVED.' 11 
 
 sphere in which he loved to move. Having become 
 master of a good fortune by his boldness, he retired' 
 though still in the flower of his ago, with a wife 
 and family, from active life, and the Duke of Savoy 
 considered his dominions honoured by his taking up 
 his abode at Nice, which was in his jurisdiction. 
 Here, it seems, Pierre kept quite a court, which was 
 frequented by all the adventurers by sea and land, 
 whom the love of glory brought into action. They 
 sought him as their oracle and leader, he was the 
 arbiter of their differences, and the object of their 
 admiration and respect. So great was his reputation 
 that the Duke d'Ossuna became jealous that so 
 renowned a captain should not have chosen his do- 
 minions, rather than those of any other Prince, and 
 flattered by his desire to possess him as his friend, 
 Pierre consented to transfer the honour of his coun- 
 tenance from one Duke to the other. He had, how- 
 ever, scarcely established himself on the coast of 
 Sicily, before his old love of the sea and adventure 
 returned, and it was not long before the Turks had 
 reason to regret his arrival in their vicinity. He 
 ravaged the whole shore of the Levant, and brought 
 home magnificent spoils to his equally adventurous 
 master, whose ambitious projects on Venice had 
 just been roused by the Spanish Ambassador Be- 
 domar, and as nothing could possibly jump so well 
 with the humour of Pierre, as a plot so extensive 
 and important as that conceived against the proud 
 Republic, he readily lent his hand to assist its success. 
 
12 THE AMBASSADOR. 
 
 Renault, the ancient lover of Belvidera, and the 
 poet's cause of the failure of the plot, is thus intro- 
 duced by the soidisant historian. 
 
 Nicolas de Renault was a French gentleman, a 
 refuge at Venice, for some unexplained cause. He 
 was extremely poor, but esteemed virtue higher than 
 wealth, and loved glory beyond virtue, for if he 
 could not attain the object of his passionate devotion 
 by worthy means, he did not hesitate to adopt those 
 the most criminal. He had adopted from the an- 
 cients that rare carelessness of life, which is generally 
 the spring of extraordinary designs, and he regretted 
 those antique times, when individual merit influ- 
 enced the destiny of a state, and when those who 
 possessed great qualities never wanted an oppor- 
 tunity of shewing them. 
 
 The character of the Spaniard, Bedomar, is still 
 more forcibly drawn by St. Real. He is represented 
 as one of the most powerful and dangerous spirits 
 that Spain ever produced, as the writings he has left 
 behind him testify. He had also formed himself 
 and his ideas on the model of the ancients : he com- 
 pared all that they recounted with that which passed 
 beneath his own eye. He carefully observed the 
 difference and the resemblance which all things bear 
 to each other, and how certain combinations attend 
 the nature of these similarities and varieties. He 
 generally decided in his mind the event of an enter- 
 prise when he had heard the plan and foundation. 
 If he found by the result that he had been deceived. 
 
THE AMBASSADOR. 13 
 
 he examined into the cause of his error, and sought 
 the reason of his mistake. By anxious study he 
 became aware of the surest methods towards a suc- 
 cessful end ; comprehended the true ways and most 
 propitious circumstances which lead to a happy 
 result to great designs. This habitual practice of 
 reading, of meditation, and of observation of the 
 affairs of the world, had raised him to such ^ point 
 of sagacity, that his conjectures on the future were 
 looked upon by the council of Spain as prophecies. 
 To this profound knowledge of the nature of great 
 affairs, he added remarkable talents to use it ; he 
 possessed a facility in speaking and writing inex- 
 pressibly fascinating ; had a marvellous instinct in 
 comprehending the character of persons at a glance 
 with manners always gay and cheerful, and the ap- 
 pearance of more vivacity than gravity, avoiding 
 mystery, and almost approaching naivete, in his 
 address ; of a free and complaisant humour, the 
 more impenetrable, because he appeared open to all 
 inquiry ; tender, insinuating, and flattering ; he 
 had the secret of gaining the coldest hearts, and he 
 could command his feelings so as to seem perfectly 
 calm in the midst of the most fearful agitation. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE PASS. 
 
 VALLEY OP THE ISEKE — THE WILD CAT — THE PONT DU DIABLE — 
 THE FORT — MONT CENIS — THE PASS — MEMORIES— HOSPICE — 
 DORA RIPARIA — VAL DE SUZA — ST. GEORGIO— I TRE CARLI. 
 
 Sunday is very strictly observed at Chambery and 
 throughout the Sardinian States, so that the towns 
 on that day have all the quietness and propriety of 
 a Protestant country. I did not feel interest enough 
 in the adventures and recollections of " the self- tor- 
 turing sophist" to seek out les Charmettes, where 
 Rousseau passed some of his early days with Madame 
 de Warens, and as Chateaubriand says, " pour prix 
 de rhospitalite qu'il en re^ut, de Tamitie qu'elle 
 lui porta, se crut philosophiquement oblige de la 
 deshonorer."' 
 
 We left Chambery soon after day-break on a fine 
 but fitful morning, and pursued our way through an 
 interesting country, the mountains tipped with snow, 
 beckoning us on beyond the flowing Isere, which we 
 crossed by a steep picturesque bridge, flanked with 
 antique towers, at Montmeillan. Festoons of vines 
 threw their garlands on each side of the road, from 
 tree to tree, primitive looking carts, drawn by fine 
 oxen, passed us every now and then, and we met 
 market people from distant villages, hastening to- 
 
VALLEY OF ISERE. 15 
 
 wai-ds the town with the produce of their farms and 
 meadows, looking neat and cheerful. Little chapels 
 with pointed roofs, their edges of tin glittering in 
 the sun, peeped out of encircling groves ; and patches 
 of snow, lying low in the hollows of the hills, told of 
 the past winter. 
 
 We went through many villages, almost crushed 
 in amongst wild craggy rocks, at the entrance of 
 valleys which suddenly opened out and displayed 
 smiling fields sloping down to the sparkling Isere, 
 which winded on its silver way, spanned by a variety 
 of pretty rustic wooden bridges. Sometimes we 
 entered a gorge, whose savage features contrasted 
 strangely with the cheerfulness we had left behind. 
 
 Rugged rocks of grotesque forms came peering 
 over the nearer range, and one huge block for 
 several leagues frowned upon us in the shape, clearly 
 defined to fancy's eyes, of a cat-a-mountain, now 
 glaring with huge fierce eyes, now concealing itself 
 as if in act to spring down upon us, now fully re- 
 vealed and menacing. Beyond Aiguebelle the 
 scenes become still more wild, and more snowy peaks 
 were apparent, shining in a strong sun, which en- 
 livened our way for some hours. 
 
 Here and there on the heights, from distance to 
 distance, strange ruins appeared, indicating the spots 
 where castles formerly commanded the passes, and 
 offered formidable barriers against incursion ; some 
 of these are picturesque, but, in general, present no 
 very striking or impressive features, though they 
 
16 PONT DU DIABLE. 
 
 harmonise well with the ruggedness of the whole 
 scene. 
 
 We were not fortunate enough to obtain the view 
 of Mont Blanc, with which a clear sky sometimes 
 favours travellers, threatening clouds, which occa- 
 sionally burst in showers, veiling the distant pros- 
 pect entirely from view, as we reached St. Jean de 
 Maurienne, once a place of consequence, but now 
 without interest as regards the vestiges of old time, 
 which give importance to insignificant spots. The 
 town is almost new, with handsome houses and 
 colonnades and good public walks. 
 
 After passing St. Michel, the scenery improves ; 
 fine fir woods clothe the hills and the impetuous 
 Arc rushes headlong over enormous blocks of im- 
 peding rocks with ceaseless roar. Beyond rise in 
 stupendous grandeur awful looking snow peaks, 
 which the windings of the road now conceal and now 
 disclose. 
 
 Illumined by flashes of lightning, we observed, 
 rearing its huge form exactly in our path, clearly 
 defined against a mass of black mountains and 
 menacing thunder clouds, a gigantic fort, perched 
 on the utmost summit of a pile of rugged rocks 
 which formed an isolated pyramid, towering above 
 the valley. Round and round the mountain, like 
 an iron belt, ran batteries and strong fortifications, 
 defying attack and courting assault. This we found 
 was the fort of Lesseillon, the grim sentinel who 
 guards the passage to Italy. 
 
THE PONT DU DIABLE. 17 
 
 Standing on the Pont du Diable, a bridge which 
 connects the fort with the road, we were not a little 
 amused to see a lady, with a smart parasol and 
 Parisian costume, leaning on the arm of a military 
 man, and looking anxiously down the road, probably 
 expecting the arrival of the mail or some courier 
 with despatches. However magnificent the position 
 of the fort, or sublime the scenery round it, I could 
 not help pitying the pair, so much of whose time 
 must be necessarily passed in this solitary and dreary 
 retreat, magnificent to the eye of a traveller, who ad- 
 mires as he passes, but melancholy enough for a 
 resident all the year round. 
 
 We met with no wolves, though there are said to 
 be many in the neighbouring forest of Bramante, 
 being more or less fortunate than Horace Walpole 
 was on this spot, when travelling with the poet Gray, 
 but were sorry to find that the clouds gathered thicker 
 as we ascended the steep road to Lans le Bourg, 
 where we were to sleep, and from whence we were to 
 cross Mont Cenis next day. This mountain defile is 
 extremely grand and gives promise of the higher and 
 more stupendous ascent which ushers the stranger 
 into Italy. 
 
 At Lans le Bourg I was by no means sorry to see 
 a large fire blazing in our apartments, and to look 
 through the closed windows at the snowy mountains 
 and dashing waterfalls before us. 
 
 When we began the ascent of Mont Cenis, at six 
 o'clock the next morning, the weather was grey and 
 
 c 
 
18 MONT CENTS. — THR PASS. 
 
 cloudy, but wo still hoped the sun of June would 
 have power enough to assert its supremacy : we 
 were, however, disappointed, and I can only think of 
 having traversed this pass into Italy as if in a dream : 
 every object before, above, around us, was enveloped 
 in a thick white mist, which cleared away during the 
 three hours of our passage only enough to permit us 
 occasionally to see masses and patches of snow on 
 the peaks nearest, but shut out entirely every pros- 
 pect removed a few hundred yards from the route. 
 We safely passed the sometimes dangerous spots 
 where travellers are wont to be assisted by canton- 
 niers, whose occupation was, for the present, gone : 
 the snow ploughs rested unused by the way -side, and 
 no appearance of peril gave animation to the dreary 
 scene. 
 
 Although it was impossible not to regret the ab- 
 sence of the sun and the blue sky, which must give 
 a magical beauty to this wild region, there was 
 something to my mind extremely solemn and im- 
 posing in the total isolation into which I appeared 
 to be suddenly plunged. A world of cloud and 
 vapour spread around me ; the way before, the pre- 
 cipices beneath, the deep ravines, the stupendous 
 peaks, all were confounded in one chaos of white 
 mist, which seemed continually rising from some 
 unknown abyss below, and curled its transparent 
 arms round and round thicker columns of unsub- 
 stantial vapour, which appeared constantly forming 
 on the sides and tops of dimly-seen crags : these 
 
MEMORIES. 19 
 
 snowy mists now moved rapidly, now crept slowly, 
 along the rocky edges, which cut them for a space, 
 and were then instantly shrouded. Once they fled 
 suddenly before a slight breeze, and a faint ray of 
 light struggled for mastery. Far beneath, across 
 the shadowy gulf, a rainbow threw its vivid but 
 transient colouring, and then faded into space ; wide 
 fields of snow were displayed in that moment, ex- 
 tending to a great distance, and the wall of ice and 
 snow which rose on one side of the high road gleamed 
 bright and mysterious : there was no impediment, 
 and I had some difficulty, so free was the road, in 
 recognizing the places where we were assured great 
 caution is necessary in severe seasons. When we 
 paused on the summit of the mountain we were 
 accosted by several persons, who had tales of hard- 
 ship to relate, which, though the dates might not be 
 justly placed, were probably too true of some period 
 of their lives, and books of the testimonials of tra- 
 vellers to their useful services, were produced, ex- 
 hibiting names of friends who had gone before us 
 and required more aid. 
 
 To me, one of these memorials was sad : I had 
 heard from a friend, whose name I read amongst 
 others, an animated account of the passage of this 
 very mountain but a short time before, when I had 
 no prospect of attempting it myself : he talked then 
 of renewed health and strength after a pleasant 
 journey, and looked forward to the probability of 
 
 c 2 
 
20 HOSPICE. 
 
 many happy years to come. Since that day the grave 
 has filled with gloomy shadows all that smiling scene 
 of future promise, and mournful regret has taken 
 the place of hope. If the bright sun had shone 
 gayly on the snows of Mont Cenis at that moment, 
 instead of the veil of mist that shrouded them, I 
 should have felt it less in unison with the melancholy 
 thoughts which the sight of a few words, written by 
 a kind hand, in the guide Peretti's favour, had 
 conjured up. 
 
 At the Hospice, once the abode of benevolent 
 monks, now occupied by the officers of the custom- 
 house, the usual ceremony of inspecting our passport 
 was gone through, while we sat in the pouring rain 
 endeavouring to comprehend the possible utility of 
 the great precautions taken by foreign governments 
 against the imagined machinations of tired travellers. 
 
 For some time the descent was dreary enough, 
 it was precisely the same weather as that I had met 
 with when crossing the mountains in Auvergne, to 
 the beautiful retreat of the Monts Dores : I knew 
 that beneath me lay a fine romantic country, 
 but a thick blanket was hung between it and 
 my sight, and not a chink appeared through which 
 I could peep to behold its charms. At length the 
 violent rain abated, the clouds rose, and a few scanty 
 firs announced that the snowy region was left above. 
 The descent is gradual and extremely easy, but as we 
 advanced we saw evidences of dangers surmounted, 
 
DORA RIPARIA. 21 
 
 in the broken parapet, which the descent of some 
 avalanche had destroyed during the late winter. 
 The defences of the zigzag road are so solid, and so 
 substantial, that it must have been a mighty mass 
 whose fall could have swept away so strong a barrier 
 of stone. 
 
 Strange alterations have taken place in this stu- 
 pendous mountain since the days when the mighty 
 Emperor Charlemagne, and his poetical army of 
 peers and paladins, waded amongst the then untrod- 
 den snows, and hewed themselves a passage over the 
 opposing rocks, which barred their way to conquest. 
 
 We descended into the pretty plain of St. Nicolas, 
 and found ourselves once more amongst meadows 
 and vineyards, with the fine height of Rochemelon 
 before us, beckoning our advance. Molaret is the 
 first village in Piedmont, and is particularly shabby 
 and unattractive, but the country between this and 
 Suza is interesting. So tender was the green of the 
 trees, and so fresh the enamelled meadows, that it 
 seemed as if spring had but just begun, the sun 
 shone faintly through the persevering mists and 
 gave some animation to the rural scene, which is 
 succeeded almost immediately by a dreary rocky 
 way, full of savage beauty, till the angry Dora Ri- 
 paria, swollen and yellow, dashing gloomily along, 
 announces the vicinity of the Roman town of Suza, 
 where we arrived accompanied by rain and clouds, 
 which enveloped the surrounding mountains in 
 
22 ST. GEORGIO. 
 
 mantles of mist, giving their giant forms the aspect 
 of unquiet, wandering ghosts, perhaps of those very 
 heroes of Charlemagne's host, whose adventurous 
 steps first explored these regions in days long past, 
 or it might be those of a leader, whose fame filled 
 Europe as widely : for we were now on the spot 
 where part of the French army of the first Consul, 
 under the command of General Thureau, suddenly 
 appeared amongst the astonished Piedmontese, and 
 here, from every height, glittered the arms of a re- 
 solute band, bent on conquest and glory, on their 
 way to join the chief, who had, in despite of nature, 
 crossed the great St. Bernard with his army, and 
 was just drawing round him his invincible troops, 
 covering all the country between the Dora and the 
 Adda. 
 
 Where the long since demolished fortress of Bru- 
 netta, once the monarch of the scene, frowned 
 in majestic grandeur, the soldiers of Austria had 
 posted themselves, vainly endeavouring to impede 
 the resistless passage of the insolent foe; but all 
 their efforts were vain, and many of them were 
 taken prisoners and borne along with the torrent 
 which rushed, by this avenue, into Italy. 
 
 St. Giorgio, through which we passed, is a town 
 of no consequence, but worthy of remark, as being 
 the birthplace of the historian. Carlo Botta, who 
 was one of the " executive commission." Piedmont, 
 ^fter the battle of Marengo had re-established the 
 
I TRE CARLI. 23 
 
 dominion of France in Italy, was governed by a 
 triumvirate : the three members were all named 
 Carlo, like the deposed Prince whom they replaced. 
 They were ridiculed as " i tre Carli," and the fol- 
 lowing epigram was frequently repeated : — 
 
 Le Piedmont versait des larmes, 
 
 Lorsque Charles etait son roi ; 
 Quels pleurs et quels alarmes 
 
 A present qu'il en a trois ! 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 TURIN AND ITS ENVIRONS. 
 
 PIAZZA CA8TELL0 — THE CASTLE — ITALIAN HOTELS — THE WINDOW 
 
 SHOPS— THE ALPS — STABLIGHT IN THE PIAZZA — LE JEUNE 
 
 AVENTUBEUX — GATES — THE HAY CARTS THE CATHEDRAL — 
 
 CLEMENT MABOT— THE PRETTY GUIDE OF PINEBOLA — THE 
 HAUNTED HOUSE — THE BBOTHEB — THE INN. 
 
 Turin, although a modern town, with scarcely a 
 vestige of antiquity about it, is extremely striking 
 to a stranger, who sees in it the first Italian city. 
 It is approached every way by immensely long- 
 avenues of fine trees, which are certainly formal, but 
 convey an idea of grandeur to the mind, as announcing 
 an important place. As there are no suburbs, you 
 enter the principal street at once, and the cleanliness, 
 neatness, and excellent paving, peculiar to this part 
 of Italy, are immediately apparent. 
 
 We drove into the magnificent Piazza di Castello, 
 and as we had to wait some minutes before it was 
 ascertained whether there was room for our party in 
 a palace-like hotel, at the doors of which we stood, 
 1 had time to observe the splendour of our position. 
 
 The centre of the enormous square is occupied by 
 so extraordinary a building, that I could scarcely 
 imagine but that my eyes deceived me as I looked 
 upon it. One facade presented a Palladian front. 
 
THE CASTLE. 25 
 
 highly ornaraented with profuse carving. There 
 were fretted pillars, rich capitals, and finely adorned 
 windows; the whole surmounted by a row of deli- 
 cate statues, standing out against the clear blue sky, 
 and shining in a brilliant sun : behind this, as if 
 to " point a moral," I perceived a rugged sombre 
 brick building, forming another front, flanked with 
 huge towers, with open parapets, and exhibiting 
 unquestionable marks of high antiquity. All 
 between, on either side, was shabby, dilapidated, 
 ruinous, and unsightly ; a mass of crumbling walls, 
 and neglected tenements : and this strange congeries 
 of edifices, I found, was the present regal palace, 
 formerly the abode of the ancient rulers of the land. 
 Either one portion or the other of this singular pile 
 should be removed ; if the old, then the modern im- 
 provements would show to advantage ; if the new, 
 then the venerable towers would look in their right 
 place, which at present they do not. Why, in re- 
 building the palace, something similar to the style 
 of the antique towers, probably too strong to be 
 destroyed, was not attempted, seems a marvel ; or 
 why extreme simplicity was not adopted in the ar- 
 chitecture of the new part, instead of the ambitious 
 overloading of ornament which glares in the eyes as 
 it now stands. 
 
 This mass, imposing even such as it is, is called the 
 old castle, and, in one corner of the square, rises a 
 long penitentiary-looking building, with two unequal 
 wings, called the new. Behind the chimneys of this, 
 
26 ITALIAN HOTELS. 
 
 peeps an open-work dome, which seems as if carved 
 in ivory, so delicate is the tracery on it. 
 
 Countless domes and spires, some gilded and 
 glowing in the sun, others bristling with statues 
 and pinnacles, rise above the lofty houses which sur- 
 round the square : the lower portions all open 
 arcades, which extend as far as the eye can reach 
 down the opposite streets. In many of the houses 
 there are open arcades to the upper stories, letting 
 in air, and giving a light effect. 
 
 While I was gazing with interest on this scene, 
 we were summoned to enter the courtyard of the 
 hotel, and were ushered into splendid rooms fitted 
 up in the most elegant taste, and having numerous 
 windows of a gigantic size opening into the square, 
 and exhibiting from them all the wonders which 1 
 had been contemplating below. 
 
 The splendour with which Italian inns are fitted 
 up leaves Paris far behind : the immense size of the 
 rooms, and their loftiness, is extremely impressive 
 to a stranger accustomed to such dwellings in 
 France ; and I was of the number of those who are 
 greatly surprised by the first appearance of the first 
 Italian hotel to which I had been introduced. The 
 walls of the chamber which I chiefly occupied 
 during my stay, were hung with blue damasked 
 satin with a golden border. A small iron bedstead, 
 beautifully worked, stood in a recess, shaded by white 
 muslin curtains mixed with blue satin, with rich 
 fringes. The bed curtains were of embroidered 
 
THE WINDOW. 27 
 
 muslin and geranium -coloured cashmeer ; the 
 white-coverlet had two deep flounces of embroidery : 
 crimson satin chairs with gilt backs, alternated with 
 blue fauteuils, a white marble chimney-piece, gay 
 carpet and painted ceiling completed the ensemble, 
 and a window of huge dimensions opened into a 
 balcony, from whence I could watch the goings on 
 below, where, in the piazza, men looked like mice, 
 from the height which our second floor was above 
 them. 
 
 The only thing in which Paris has the supremacy 
 in furnishing, is in the article of looking-glasses, for 
 all here were small and poor, and contrasted as 
 strangely with the rest of the adornments, as the 
 rude iron handles of the locks, and the ill-painted 
 white doors. 
 
 The first thing a traveller does, on taking possession 
 of his new domicile, is, to hasten to his window, and 
 look forth. At Turin his curiosity is instantly re- 
 warded, for in few places are more characteristic 
 sights to be beheld at a glance. 
 
 Exactly beneath my window, I observed a group 
 of people, in a variety of costumes, crowding round 
 several men, who were dressed in the Neapolitan 
 garb, and were perseveringly droning and squeaking 
 forth their tunes on the shepherd's pipe, and the moun- 
 tain bag -pipe : these were wimdering piffararij, well 
 known in more southern latitudes : another group 
 were busy listening to a boy with an organ and fan- 
 tocini ; workmen were carrying home goods, coach- 
 
28 THE WINDOW. 
 
 men were driving open carriages with elegant horses, 
 filled with smartly dressed ladies, grisettes without 
 cap or bonnet, were tripping along, flirting their green 
 fans ; at a distance, a procession of priests traced a 
 black line across the pavement, darkening the bright 
 sun-light, which fell full upon the open space : here 
 and there paced along a friar in coarse brown robes 
 and corded waist, and two or three monks in black 
 gowns, with white facings, their cowls thrown back 
 and their shaven crowns shining, walked rapidly on, 
 often accompanied by an abbe-looking personage, 
 widi cocked hat and smart black silk stockings and 
 buckled shoes. These churchmen invariably walk 
 with a firm proud air, as if they felt that their rule 
 in the Sardinian dominions was secure ; most of them 
 are handsome and dignified, and look quite conscious 
 of their advantages. 
 
 The next movement of a new comer after his visit 
 to his window, is, to descend and make a closer ac- 
 quaintance with the objects that have attracted him. 
 This I did with little delay, and found much amuse- 
 ment beneath the extended colonnades, which lead on 
 from street to street, and from square to square, with 
 little interruption. The concourse of people was 
 extraordinary, and it appeared to me, during my 
 short stay at Turin, that the same crowd was always 
 to be found there; therefore, though it is by no 
 means considered a gay capital, it must at any rate 
 be called cheerful and bustling. Every now and 
 then we came to a recess, before which the massy 
 
ARCADES. 29 
 
 folds of a red curtain hung, which, being drawn aside, 
 disclosed a richly adorned church, the altars blazing 
 with lights. The shops were full of wares, and 
 facing them on the opposite side of the arcade were 
 placed piles of goods, tempting the purchaser nearer : 
 amongst the articles exposed, finely wrought iron 
 bedsteads were the most common, and there seemed 
 no end of toys and trifling objects of slight value. 
 Fine fruit and great quantities of cheese were dis- 
 played everywhere. Priests and monks, dandies 
 always smoking, smart girls in black lace veils holding 
 fans coquettishly in their hands, military men " and 
 peasants, jostled each other in the path, which, though 
 wide and broad, seemed incapable of holding all the 
 promenaders. I met a party of females in black robes 
 and veils, each wearing a most extraordinary shaped 
 stiff white cap, peaked in front like those represented 
 in the manuscripts of the fourteenth century : they 
 were accompanied by a priest, and had a most 
 picturesque appearance. I understood they were a 
 new order of sisters not long established. 
 
 Most of the shops are kept by French people, and 
 a good deal of French is spoken here, but the mel- 
 lifluous tones of the charming Italian nevertheless 
 greet the ear at every turn : the first time they are 
 listened to, the most agreeable sensations of admira- 
 tion arise, and it never occurs to the stranger to be 
 critical as to the dialect's purity.* 
 
 * Delighted as I was with the sounds of the language I heard 
 all around me, I was Httle able to appreciate the opinions of native 
 
30 THE ALPS. 
 
 I walked along the Contrada del Po, under fine 
 lofty arcades which extend their shade on each side 
 of the way, towards a wide spreading square, and 
 the grand river, whose name alone conjures up 
 crowding recollections. The Superga crowns a 
 neighbouring eminence, and reigns the presiding 
 genius of Turin, appearing at every turn, as we had 
 beheld it when entering the city by the almost im- 
 measurable avenue of Rivoli. 
 
 Crossing the bridge I mounted the steep hill which 
 conducts to the terrace of the Capuchin Church, 
 from whence all the glories of Turin and its neigh- 
 bourhood are seen to infinite advantage. I was here 
 forcibly reminded of the Pyrenees, seen from Pau, 
 for before me I beheld the majestic Alps, in a long 
 massive line, spreading out their snowy bosoms to 
 the purple and gold clouds of evening, and glittering 
 with the brilliant hues of sunset. The city lay 
 grand and imposing on its wide plain, surrounded 
 
 Italians, competent to pronounce on the dialects of Italy. I 
 thought all the phrases and words I heard beautiful, although the 
 language common to the vale of the Po and in Lombardy generally 
 is considered harsh and rude enough to betray the barbaric descent 
 of their inhabitants : while at Venice and in the south of Tuscany, 
 as well as at Rome, the softness and melody of the tongue is said 
 to prove its purity from admixture with foreign races. 
 
 The patois of the different towns and districts, the existence 
 of which is so great a drawback to improvement, I had no oppor- 
 tunity of examining or comparing, but I can hardly imagine that 
 to my northern ear, there can be any dialect of Italy which would 
 not be pleasing. 
 
STARLIGHT IN THE PIAZZA. 31 
 
 by the CoUina and lesser hills, all dotted with shin- 
 ing villas, seated amidst embowering groves. The 
 immense number of these country seats of the no- 
 bility and gentry is quite surprising ; for leagues the 
 hills are covered with them, and their beauty and 
 vastness tell of great wealth and comfort : a perfect 
 city of plaisaunce is without the precincts of Turin, 
 and within a short drive. 
 
 The vallies and plain seemed teeming with culti- 
 vation, and the whole scene was one of prosperity 
 and riches. 
 
 I met on my descent from this fine height, which 
 is a favourite point of view with the townspeople, 
 with four of the fraternity of blue penitents, whose 
 office is to attend the sick. On their dresses were 
 figured a skull and cross bones, but though so so- 
 lemnly attired, they were all bustling along in a 
 very worldly manner. They belonged I was told to 
 San Rocco. 
 
 By the time I had returned to the Piazza d^ Cas- 
 tello, the usual crowds had assembled to take the 
 evening air under the arcades, though their numbers 
 certainly prevented what they sought, for the heat 
 was so intense, that I was glad to walk in the centre 
 of the streets. 
 
 Unnumbered stars sparkled in the deep blue sky 
 and I enjoyed the view from my high window in the 
 hotel ; the glittering lights round the Piazza, which 
 defined the form of the lofty colonnades, had a gay 
 and glowing effect, contrasted with the huge square 
 
32 LE JEUNE AVENTUREUX. 
 
 mass of the castle in the centre, whose gigantic towers 
 rose proudly, as if in contempt of the pretty row of 
 white statues opposite them, whose delicate forms came 
 out against the clear back-ground, and gave them 
 the character of guardian sylphs, watching over the 
 princesses within the decorated palace beneath. They 
 might be waiting to hail the birth of a little prince, 
 an event hourly expected within the regal walls. 
 
 In this very palace an adventure occurred, which 
 night and silence recalled to my memory. 
 
 At the time that Francis 1st was on the eve of 
 the battle of Marignan, while the Swiss were hesi- 
 tating whether to come to extremities or not, the 
 youthful folly of a young soldier decided the question. 
 Turin was made the scene of an absurd adventure 
 by the daring of Fleuranges, called Le Jeune Aven- 
 tureux. 
 
 He commanded the Black band, in the service of 
 Francis, and became aware that there were a hundred 
 Swiss officers in Turin, whom he pretended not to 
 know were invited to an entertainment by the Duke 
 of Savoy, with the express intention on the part of 
 the Duke, of endeavouring to renew the treaty which 
 had just failed between the Cantons and the King. 
 Fleuranges thought it would be a feat worthy of 
 commendation to surprise these guests of the Duke, 
 and perhaps thus put an end to hostilities, as it was 
 well known that Francis was desirous, if possible, 
 to avoid bloodshed. 
 
 Accordingly, he introduced some of his men to 
 
LE JEUNE AVENTUREUX. 33 
 
 Turin at night, and allowing the banquet to be 
 entirely concluded, he made a most unceremonious 
 visit, with his resolute band, to the quarters of the 
 officers, who had all retired to bed, not a little over- 
 come with the good cheer they had enjoyed. He 
 took them all prisoners without resistance, and was 
 exulting in his success, when the Duke of Savoy, 
 indignant at this insult to his honour, which was 
 compromised by the detention of his guests, insisted 
 on their being instantly freed. Much against his 
 will, the imprudent young captain submitted, and 
 the enraged Swiss returned to their camp, more fu- 
 rious at their capture and the ridicule thrown on 
 them, than thankful for their release. 
 
 Fleuranges, in telling his own story, insists that 
 Francis approved of his conduct and blamed him 
 for agreeing to give up his prisoners, as, if they had 
 been retained, the war might have been spared, for 
 the Swiss would not have ventured a battle with all 
 their officers absent. 
 
 Turin has now no gates to exclude an enemy, 
 but in the time when the struggle was going on 
 between the Emperor Charles and Francis the First, 
 it was strong and imposing, with walls, gates, and 
 ditches. 
 
 While Martin du Bellay was governor of Turin 
 for Francis, amongst other schemes to surprise the 
 town was the following. 
 
 Cesare da Napoli, the commander on the Imperial 
 side, had endeavoured to bribe some soldiers of the 
 
34 THE HAY CARTS. 
 
 garrison to surrender a part of the rampart ; these 
 men feigned consent, but immediately informed the 
 governor of the proposal, who took measures accord- 
 ingly. Three of the Imperial soldiers were allowed 
 to come secretly to inspect the spot of intended 
 entrance, and retired well satisfied, not dreaming 
 of the counter-plot which was to defeat them. 
 
 Although, however, du Bellay had obtained cor- 
 rect information of the enemy's intention, the plan 
 might have succeeded, owing to the jealousy he felt 
 of Boutieres, whom he was obliged to leave in com- 
 mand, while he hastened to Paris, having received 
 suddenly news of his brother's death. All that he 
 condescended to name to Boutieres was, that he 
 suspected a plot, and cautioned him to examine all 
 the hay-carts which might enter the town. 
 
 The Imperialists, meantime, under cover of a thick 
 fog, advanced towards Turin, and at a short distance 
 awaited the success of their ruse. They then sent 
 six carts laden with hay, and driven by men wear- 
 ing the dress of peasants, into the city. They pre- 
 sented a passport, purporting to be signed by Bou- 
 tieres, at the first gate, and were permitted to pass. 
 Raimonet, a French officer, who was on guard at 
 the second barrier, asked the price of the hay, and 
 on hearing an exorbitant sum demanded by the car- 
 ter, suspected there was some treachery. He bade 
 his lieutenant thrust his pike into the cart, the 
 weapon was withdrawn covered with blood, and at 
 the same time six soldiers well armed issued from 
 beneath the hay. Each of the other carts produced a 
 
THE CATHEDRAL. 35 
 
 similar load — the drivers threw off" their disguises, 
 and flew to arms. A contest then ensued, and the 
 moment was perilous for the French, for the soldiers 
 without, hearing the tumult, were ready to force 
 their entrance. At this juncture a farrier with in- 
 finite presence of mind, broke with his sledge-ham- 
 mer the chain that held the portcullis, and so gave 
 time to the troops of the garrison, who hastily 
 flocked to the spot, to shut the gates : and thus, for 
 this time, was Turin saved to the French. 
 
 The Cathedral is in a style by no means uncom- 
 mon in this part of Piedmont : the decorations struck 
 me as singularly paltry : all the pillars are painted 
 like a French cafe : bunches of grapes and vine 
 leaves in wreaths spreading over the whole. The 
 ceiling and walls are painted and gilded, but I could 
 not admire the glare of colours in the frescoes, which, 
 however, are considered to possess merit ; the whole 
 style seemed to me far inferior to that of the modern 
 churches in Paris, although in the same taste, which 
 I have not yet learnt to delight in. There is a great 
 display of silver plate on the grand altar, and the 
 royal tribune is excessively ornamented. In the 
 sacristy is a large Virgin, begirt with glitter, and 
 there is much wealth displayed throughout the 
 edifice. 
 
 Turin, although the government was, and is, by no 
 means favourable to innovation in the Catholic reli- 
 gion, has always afforded a dwelling to those of 
 the reformed creed, albeit this circumstance may 
 
 D 2 
 
36 CLEMENT MAROT. 
 
 have been " forc-doom'd the soul to cross," of the 
 ruler for the time being. 
 
 In Turin that daring spirit Clement Marot, died 
 in 1544, having fled from place to place to avoid 
 the consequences of his impertinent wit. When 
 obliged to leave Paris, owing to the enmity of La 
 belle Diane, he fled to the pearl of all Marguerites, 
 the gentle Queen of Navarre, in Beam, after which 
 he was transferred to the care of Renee Duchess of 
 Ferrara, where he oflended the Duke and went on 
 to Venice. His friends there procured his recal to 
 Paris ; and then it was that he translated the Psalms, 
 and set the rage of singing them to all the piovs 
 court, who, finding out at length that they were 
 thus becoming involuntary Reformers, closed their 
 music books in anger and terror, and drove away 
 the wicked poet who had seduced them to such a 
 deed. He then fled to Geneva, but the austere and 
 moral Calvin found him too gay and careless for an 
 ally, and the saucy minstrel retired to Turin, where 
 his last lay was breathed, and Francis the First had 
 no more reason to be offended with his " cher et 
 bien ame valet de chambre ordinaire Clement 
 Marot," whose part he was so often obliged to 
 take. 
 
 We made an excursion of a few days from Turin, 
 to visit the neighbouring valleys of the Vaudois, 
 where the remnant of those persevering Protestants, 
 whom no persecution could shake, yet remain. La 
 Tour or La Torre, is the chief town of the valleys, and 
 
THE PRETTY GUIDE OF PINEROLA. 37 
 
 it was to that place there that our course was directed. 
 The route lay along one of the long avenues leading 
 from Turin to Pinerola : this is before the Protes- 
 tant land is reached, and here we remained a short 
 time to rest the horses, and during that pause pro- 
 posed to see all that the little town offered of interest. 
 This was comprised in a very small space, but we 
 were assured that if we would take the trouble of 
 walking about half a mile, we should be rewarded 
 by beholding one of the finest views in the country. 
 The church of St. Maurice, we were told stood on a 
 height which commanded the country for leagues, 
 and nothing could exceed its beauty. Our host was 
 loud in its praises, our hostess echoed his boast, and, 
 to prove the truth of the assertion, they summoned 
 their youngest daughter to attend us to this land of 
 promise. 
 
 Our guide was, as she told us, sixteen and a 
 half, for at that age months are of importance ; her 
 general costume was not remarkable except for its 
 neatness, but she wore a pearl necklace of great pre- 
 tension, the beads arranged in a pretty pattern round 
 her throat. Her long, thick hair was black and 
 shining, without ornament, but carefully smoothed 
 and plaited : she had a grave serious expression, 
 which in a very few minutes disappeared, and gave 
 place to a charming smile, dimpling her soft round 
 cheek, whose colour was of the most delicate rose : 
 her mouth was almost too small till she smiled and 
 showed the pearly teeth within, her eyes were of 
 a rich brown, with very dark long lashes, and her 
 
38 THE PRETTY GUIDE OF PINEROLA. 
 
 penciled brows nearly met over a somewhat low 
 forehead : her skin was dark but clear, and the 
 shape of her head very graceful : she was below 
 the middle height, and her figure seemed scarcely 
 formed, her feet, a frequent fault with Italians, were 
 large, and disfigured by huge white boots, but alto- 
 gether she was as interesting and pretty a creature 
 as ever I beheld. Her soft gentle voice was in 
 curious contrast to the somewhat uncouth language 
 she spoke, a mixture of French and Patois, but 
 her native politeness accorded well with her pleasing 
 manners. 
 
 She led us through a grand square of arcades, 
 which she acknowledged did not equal Turin, where 
 she had lately spent two days as a great treat, and 
 we climbed up very steep alleys, where a clear 
 current rushed down, cleansing as it flowed, to the 
 height so vaunted, the beauty of which we hardly 
 considered worth toiling so far to get acquainted 
 with : however, our pretty guide's prattle was 
 amusing enough to repay us, and we gratified her 
 by our expressed admiration of the extensive flat 
 cultivated vale beneath, watered by the river Volta. 
 She pointed out to us an isolated house on a mound, 
 which had the reputation of being haunted, and, 
 though a place of great capability, was always de- 
 serted after a time by any tenant, who had been 
 hardy enough to dare the adventures it afforded. 
 She showed us the church of St. Maurice, and re- 
 lated the popular belief that it had been built by 
 miracle, but when we asked her if she thought the 
 
THE BROTHER. 39 
 
 tale true, she smiled, and said-—" Ah, that is what 
 my brother asks me, and says, it is not in the Bible, 
 which he is always reading." 
 
 On this she launched out into praises of this be- 
 loved brother, who she told us was so clever, so good 
 and so amiable ! 
 
 *' You love him very much, then ?'* I inquired. 
 She paused, and turned her large sparkling eyes 
 upon me, as if to give more effect to her words, as 
 she answered with much emotion — " Si je Taime ! — 
 je I'aime comme mes yeux !" 
 
 We sat down in the edge of a field while my 
 companion was sketching the church, and she went 
 on to tell us that this dear brother, her only one, 
 was studying medicine at Turin, which was the rea- 
 son her father had removed from his former resi- 
 dence in the Val de Suza, where he had still an inn, 
 " He is everything to us," she continued, " and as 
 he is so clever, it was necessary he should study and 
 improve himself. He draws too," she added, sud- 
 denly producing from her bosom two small sketches 
 of heads on paper, really well done. Pleased with 
 our praises, she resumed her conversation : " He 
 gave me these before he left us, and 1 have never let 
 them out of my sight." Nothing could exceed the 
 joy with which she accepted an English pencil for 
 her brother, and the blush and flashing glance as 
 she put it carefully away, spoke volumes of delight, 
 not diminished by a little present for herself. 
 
 We went back to the inn, excellent friends, and 
 
40 THE INN. 
 
 left her to tell her tale to her pretty sister, who was 
 sitting at work at a window on the landing place, 
 and whose vocation was to be a nun ; but her parents 
 and her brother opposed her wish by all the argu- 
 ments of affection, and had hitherto succeeded. 
 
 The hotel was a more curious sight than any we 
 had discovered in our walk. The lower floor was 
 occupied with kitchens and parlours, and the upper 
 consisted in a range of neatly furnished bed-rooms, 
 opening one out of the other, to the number of four- 
 teen or more. The light was carefully excluded 
 from each, as the weather was extremely warm, and, 
 at first, we could scarcely see how elaborately painted 
 both the walls and ceilings were. There were two 
 and sometimes three beds in each of these rooms, 
 and we were lost in wonder as to where occupants 
 could be found for so many in a mere road-side inn, 
 only four hours from the capital. It would seem a 
 great many travellers were expected, and, as the 
 host seemed a man of substance, probably there is 
 no lack of custom in the hostelry of Pinerola. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE VAUDOIS VALLEYS. 
 
 " A spirit, stronger than the sword. 
 
 And loftier than despair. 
 Through all the heroic region pour'd. 
 
 Breathes on the generous air. 
 
 " A memory clings to every steep 
 
 Of long-enduring faith. 
 And the sounding streams glad records keep. 
 
 Of courage unto death." 
 
 Felicia Hemans. 
 la torre — mystery and wrongs — casteluzzo — anghogna 
 
 — BAF AND BIF — THE CAVES — BOBI THE PASTOR's DWEL- 
 LING SILK-WORMS — HISTORY — PERSECUTION PATRIOTS — 
 
 THE GLORIOUS RETURN — THE CHIEFS — BARBES. 
 
 The fine mountain of the Col de Viso had been 
 conspicuous all along our route through the avenue 
 from Turin, and at Pinerola the road, which had 
 been hitherto rather monotonous from its straight- 
 ness, improved extremely : festoons of rich vines 
 appeared, hanging over trelliced avenues amongst 
 the corn, or from pole to pole, like hops ; on each 
 side of the road all was riches and cultivation ; the 
 mulberry trees were growing with all their leaves, 
 
42 LA TonuE. 
 
 from a cause which did not, however, speak of pros- 
 perity : the cold spring had killed all the silkworms 
 in this part of the country. The women whom we 
 met looked neat and picturesque in their large straw 
 hats trimmed with dark blue ribbon, and a bow of 
 the same on the edge. 
 
 Though La Torre, the capital of the Vaudois valley, 
 is a sad shabby, slovenly looking town, there is an ex- 
 cellent inn there, extremely large and commodious, 
 where the beds are admirable, the mattrasses being 
 filled with the elastic leaves of Indian corn, which 
 rustle most rurally, as if one had made a couch 
 beneath the blue canopy of heaven in Arcadian simpli- 
 city: a fancy I did not find destroyed, when, on waking 
 in the morning, I saw the luxuriant vines peeping into 
 my room, from a balcony which extended all round 
 this part of the house. I have seldom beheld so enor- 
 mous a stem as the patriarch vine presented, whose 
 huge branches twined round the timbers of the house, 
 and half supported this pretty balcony. 
 
 The Pane grisino, which I here first saw, amused 
 me extremely. It is made in long thin pipes, and 
 was brought up at breakfast by the attentive and 
 good tempered damsel who waited, in a long basket 
 which she set on a chair near the table. These pipes 
 are a 3^ard or more long, as thin as a tobacco pipe, and 
 are quite insipid, but not unpleasant; an armful seems 
 cosidered merely a moderate supply, and I believe it 
 is in general thought extremely good. The people at 
 La Torre seemed full of courtesy and cheerfulness, 
 
MYSTEUY AND WRONGS. 43 
 
 anxious to oblige, and remarkably civil : we had 
 seen an instance of this on our route ; for, having 
 paused in a village, and sent to a house to beg a 
 glass of water, it was immediately brought out by a 
 neat-handed Phillis, on a tray in great form, nor 
 could any entreaties induce her to accept a reward 
 for her trouble. The master and his family, during 
 the transaction, had remained gazing from their 
 balcony, and took leave of us with unnumbered bows 
 and good wishes, in which he was imitated by the 
 whole village, bullock drivers and all. The latter 
 class have a picturesque charge, for here those beau- 
 tiful, white, classical-looking oxen appear, which 
 look as if they had stepped from some antique frieze 
 or altar, and become animated in order to embellish 
 the scene, as they pace majestically along between 
 the upward -curved shafts of the simple carts they 
 draw. 
 
 I asked a stable boy at the inn of La Torre if he 
 was a Protestant, and received for answer, " Yes, I 
 have that honour." It was plain that the once 
 oppressed race were now conscious that they had 
 powerful friends to protect them ; though the im- 
 portance of having wrongs is not forgotten either, 
 and the ill-nature and grudging spirit of the Jesuits 
 of Turin is sufficiently felt. I inquired of a young 
 man who pointed out to us the new college, why 
 the entrance was left half finished, without rails or 
 gates. He looked extremely mysterious, and said 
 in a half whisper : — 
 
44 CASTELUZZO. 
 
 " It is tlie Jesuits ; we are not a free people — tliey 
 will not allow us gates/' 
 
 I afterwards found a less romantic reason for the 
 fact, in the failure of the funds to complete the 
 building. 
 
 Above the town of La Torre rises a very remark- 
 able mountain, the summit of which is crowned by 
 a rock called Casteluzzo, so like a ruined keep, that 
 it is hardly possible to imagine it other than the 
 work of man. A castle did in fact once stand there, 
 which was demolished by Francis the First, when 
 he made his entry into Italy through these valleys, 
 by the Durance, having surmounted the opposing 
 difficulties of the mountains on the side of Guil- 
 lestre, levelling rocks, and cutting down forests on 
 his way, in a manner only equalled by the sur- 
 prising attempts and successes of Napoleon's army, 
 in their Alpine adventures. 
 
 The mountains round crowd together with their 
 snowy crests, as if to guard the entrance of the 
 valleys, of which La Torre is the key : they have 
 all high sounding names, and many a great act 
 has been performed amidst their fastnesses, when 
 the hunted Vaudois fled from rock to rock, and 
 cave to cave, disputing every inch of ground, and 
 battling for existence in the caverns of Cavour, in 
 the heights of Taglioretta, of the Pra del Tor, the 
 Cornon, the Alps de Julien, of Prali, of Perosa, 
 Pornaretto and Riclaretto. 
 
 The Catholics have lately built an enormous 
 
 li 
 
AGREEABLE SURPRISE. 45 
 
 church and seminary in the very centre, blocking 
 up the valley as the town of La Torre is entered : 
 their view and object is to induce the Protestants to 
 forsake their long cherished faith, but they have sig- 
 nally failed. The King of Sardinia came to the con- 
 secration of this church, and carried a lighted taper 
 himself with great ceremony. Nothing could exceed 
 the distress of the Protestants at this demonstration : 
 visions of auto-da-fes, faggots and stakes rose to their 
 terrified imaginations, and all the old persecutions 
 seemed to them terrors likely to return. Instead how- 
 ever of ill, good came from this visit ; for the King, 
 who when he judges for himself appears kind and 
 just, was struck with the simple loyalty and duty 
 show^n him by this unknown portion of his subjects, 
 and expressed himself highly satisfied with the man- 
 ner of his reception amongst them : so much so that 
 he set about inquiring into their wants, and they 
 now augur much advantage from the event. The 
 Jesuits are extremely mortified in consequence, and 
 grumble at his tolerance of these heretics, whom 
 they dare not oppress as much as they desire. 
 
 The Protestant church is about a mile from La 
 Torre, and the pastors of all the villages round have 
 excessive hardships to sustain in the discharge of 
 their duties, during the cold season, which lasts a 
 great part of the year. 
 
 The people do not appear to be very poor, but are 
 dreadfully dirty and slovenly : goitre prevails fear- 
 fully amongst them, and their intellects seem con- 
 
46 SUPERSTITION. 
 
 siderably blunted, so that the task is liard to bring 
 them to a proper tone of mind, and it is extremely 
 difficult to persuade them out of old habits and pre- 
 judices. It is possible that this obstinacy may be 
 as much the cause, amongst the lower classes, of 
 their adherence to their ancient faith, as conviction 
 of its superiority to the Catholic belief. A peasant 
 woman, who led the donkey on which I made a pil- 
 grimage to Angrogna amongst the wild hills, told 
 me of several marvels which had occurred respecting 
 persons who, for gain, had forsaken their church ; 
 these were so startling, that the barrier between 
 this credulity and Roman superstition, seemed to 
 me singularly slight. There is much supineness 
 and carelessness about the people ; as an instance, 
 I inquired of our landlady, if the priests, who, 
 I observed, wore green crosses, were of any par- 
 ticular order : she was surprised, and said she had 
 never noticed that they wore one at all, although 
 she had always lived in the valley, and had seen 
 them every day of her life at her threshold : again 
 she was not aware that the college was left unfinished, 
 and exclaimed, when I spoke of it, — " Ah, mais a 
 present que vous parlez de ^a je m'en souviens que 
 je ne Vai jamais remarquL** 
 
 Considering the very few objects that exist worthy 
 to look at in the town of La Torre, the insensibility 
 of our hostess was certainly remarkable. 
 
 I had already been amused at Turin, but here the 
 circumstance was more apparent, by the singularity 
 
ANGROGNA. 47 
 
 of all the clocks striking the hour twice : the chari- 
 vari which is created by this eternal sound is any- 
 thing but agreeable, and I was kept awake almost all 
 night at La Torre, as I had been before in the great 
 city, by the ceaseless clang of bells, reiterating their 
 information in the most confusing manner. 
 
 Our ride through the deep defiles which lead to the 
 wretched village of Angrogna, was extremely pretty, 
 but rugged in the extreme : a chorus of cuckoos, 
 nightingales and blackbirds, accompanied us through- 
 out the way, and a scarcely less musical undersong 
 of grasshoppers, made the very air ring, as we passed 
 the newly shorn meadows, whose hedges were crim- 
 son with wild roses, and banks all enamelled with 
 wild hyacinths and forget-me-nots. Every now and 
 then an opening in the thick woods, disclosed some 
 shining snowy peak, piercing the clouds, and tower- 
 ing far above the green hills in their front. The 
 houses in all the villages are as miserable as can be 
 conceived : they are generally of stone, rudely put 
 together, with square holes for windows, painted 
 white round, after the Irish fashion — alas I anything 
 miserable recals that unfortunate country to mind. 
 But before every door, climbing over every balcony, 
 and each cottage has one, and a ladder for stairs 
 outside, a beautiful luxuriant vine, throws its mantle 
 of beauty, changing squalid deformity into grace. 
 
 We found the pastor of Angrogna absent from 
 home on his duties to some distant community 
 far over the hills, and his wife, a mere simple 
 
48 VEGETABLE BAROMETER. 
 
 peasant civilly received us, regretting his absence. 
 As the sky began to look overcast we thought it 
 safe to retrace our steps from the heights, and return 
 to La Torre, before a storm overtook us. We there- 
 fore decHned the minister's wife's hospitality, and 
 turned the heads of our donkeys back again down 
 the stony and precipitous descent. 
 
 As we threaded our way through the vocal groves 
 and past fragrant fields of newly made hay, I en- 
 deavoured to converse with my female guide, who 
 plodded patiently on, assisting my cautious steed in 
 the rugged descent. It was not an easy matter to 
 do so, for her patois was almost unintelligible, and 
 her French little less so. 1 asked her if they were 
 still in the habit of judging of the weather by the 
 opening and shutting of a sort of artichoke, which 
 I had heard they hung up in their cottages. She 
 smiled, and assured me they did so, and that it was 
 an infallible guide. This plant is said to open its 
 leaves round the centre if it is about to be fair, and 
 close them if rain is to be expected. 
 
 I had met with this account in a curious old book 
 on the valleys of Piedmont, printed at Leyden in 
 1669, and I understood on inquiry, that in general 
 the details it gave of manners and customs, would 
 quite as well apply now as then. 
 
 The author there describes an animal, whose pro- 
 perties appear in his relation somewhat marvellous, 
 but my guide at once recognized it by the names 
 given. It is called Jumarre, and is said to be su- 
 
BAF AND BIF. 49 
 
 perior to the mule : the largest size is denominated 
 Baf, and a smaller Bif, by which appellation it is 
 still known, though, as the Jumarre, it is not so. 
 I imagine it to be merely a mule of superior strength 
 and appearance, of which there are many throughout 
 the valleys^ both of Piedmont and Savoy. 
 
 Angrogno is one of the spots where the Protestant 
 faith has continued from olden time — it would 
 be incorrect to say it still flourishes, but it exists. 
 At Roras, La Torre, and all between St. Marguerite 
 and Villars and Bobi, the Protestants have had their 
 strong-holds, and though driven from them by per- 
 secution from age to age, they have resolutely fough^ 
 the good fight of faith, and kept their ground to the 
 last. Their enemies dare no longer say of them as 
 they once did : 
 
 El es Vaudes, e degne de murir. 
 He is a Vaudois and worthy of death. 
 
 Nor are they at liberty, if they had the desire, to carry 
 those edicts into effect, which are still unrepealed, and 
 which give fearful odds against the heretics. Even 
 lately, when new laws were made at Turin, and the 
 Vaudois petitioned to have these edicts revoked, a 
 refusal was given. I looked over some of these, 
 which are most cruelly severe against the Protestants, 
 and restrict them from promulgating " loro falsa 
 Religione :" the necessity is there pointed out of 
 curbing them, and it is shewn " quanto fosse necess- 
 ario di troncare il capo a quest' Idra." The eight 
 
 L 
 
60 THE CAVES. 
 
 liundrod Protestants in Turin, and the twenty-five 
 thousand scattered in the valleys, still " stand within 
 the danger" of their foes, if they dared use the power 
 still left them, but all the Protestant powers of 
 Europe extend their protection to this remnant, and 
 they have nothing now but petty annoyances to 
 dread. 
 
 The time was, when men, women and children 
 were forced to fly from the fury of their persecutors, 
 and to conceal themselves in caves, of which the 
 most remarkable is La Roche de Vandelin, which is 
 one of Nature's marvels, formed as if on purpose to 
 afford shelter to the distressed multitude. It is capable 
 of holding from three to four thousand persons, and 
 is naturally divided into chambers, with apertures in 
 the rock wdiich serve as windows ; it has a fountain 
 of pure water in the midst, and places which can be 
 used as ovens if required, and to crown all, has but 
 one entrance by a single hole, so Imall that only 
 one person can enter at a time, so that a deter- 
 mined individual could defend a whole community 
 against a powerful enemy, as was done in the days 
 of the perilous struggles which the Vaudois had to 
 go through. 
 
 We were anxious to see some of the other spots 
 famous in the annals of Vaudois history, and one 
 fine morning set out for Bobi or Bobbio high in the 
 valley of La Torre. A carriage can drive without 
 difficulty as far as this village, beyond which passes 
 lead far into the mountains, over the Col Julien and 
 
BOBI. 51 
 
 the Serra le Cruel to Pralis. There is some monotony 
 in the road from the narrowness of the gorge and 
 the continual recurrence of the same scenery: hills 
 are here piled on hills, with openings giving a view 
 of threatening snow mountains, woods of luxuriant 
 trees clothe the steeps, rugged villages stop the way 
 with their precipitous, broken, dilapidated streets, 
 through which it seems impossible to pass, but pre- 
 sently a long vista appears, and the traveller finds 
 himself driving under an arcade of treliced vines, 
 neatly and carefully trained : the only evidence of 
 industry, which is presented to his eye. Nothing 
 can be more beautiful than these continued arbours, 
 and they seem the more delightful in contrast with 
 the wretched hovels before which they run, and the 
 savage villages to which they are the approach. 
 
 Wherever these occur, the path beneath is clear 
 and smooth : the props are firm and good, and the 
 graceful foliage is attended to with all the neatness 
 that might be seen in an ornamental garden : but these 
 once passed, all again is dirt and carelessness: pigs 
 and poultry and children are pell-mell together in the 
 muddy road, and the houses are mere dens of dis- 
 comfort and misery. 
 
 The roaring mountain streams of the Pelice and 
 Liossa echo far below the hills, leaping over rocky 
 beds and foaming through the ravines. A long wall 
 is still to be seen which forms an embankment made 
 to protect the village of Bobi from the incursions of 
 the Pelice : it was built by a grant from Oliver 
 
 E 2 
 
62 VILLAR, 
 
 Cromwell, who was moved by the distress of the 
 
 remnant of those 
 
 " Slaughtered Saints whose bones 
 Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold," 
 
 when, in a severe season, the angry torrent, emulat- 
 ing their destroyers, burst its bounds and devastated 
 their fields in a most terrific manner. 
 
 Though much alike in character, the higher 
 mountains here are very grand, and their stupendous 
 character increases as the valleys are penetrated 
 further. Towards Finestrelle, the scene of the 
 pathetic little story of Picciola, and near Perosa, the 
 scenery is wild and wondrous in the extreme ; and 
 it is quite worth while for travellers to visit these, 
 who do not meditate " more fierce and far delights" 
 in the unapproachably sublime vale of Chamouny, 
 the magnificent Grindelwald, or the stupendous 
 passes of the Tyrol, to all of which our ambition led 
 us. 
 
 At Villar, we paid another unsuccessful visit to 
 the house of a minister, who was absent, like many 
 of his brethren, on a pastoral excursion : his house- 
 keeper did the honours of his simple cottage most 
 cheerfully, and seldom could a picture be presented 
 of less sophisticated habits and manners. Here was 
 no evidence of comfort or luxury, no easy chairs and 
 velvet sofas, no elegant curtains and commodious 
 study tables, like a parsonage house in England. 
 The general arrangement of the Barbels abode 
 was more resembling the scanty conveniences of a 
 
THE pastor's dwelling. 53 
 
 Welsh curate of the Established church in neglected 
 Wales. 
 
 We were shewn into the parlour, a boarded apart- 
 ment, without carpet, furnished with three coarse 
 hard chairs, and two deal tables, much marked with 
 ink, but very clean ; on one of these some German 
 and French books, and a pile of papers, were placed. 
 There were shutters to the one window, but no cur- 
 tains ; and there were large drawers to the largest 
 table, which appeared to serve as cupboards, from 
 the articles produced from them, namely, salt and 
 knives. A tin tray, with sparkling water and glasses, 
 was brought us, which was all we required, and all, 
 probably, that could well have been given ; and I 
 imagined I detected a sigh of regret, and something 
 like mortified hospitable feeling, as the good-natured 
 housekeeper placed this refreshment on her absent 
 master's table. The kitchen and sleeping rooms of 
 the establishment were extremely neat, but as bare 
 as economy could desire ; yet there was an air of 
 cheerfulness about the place, which shewed that the 
 good clergyman, who bears a very high character, 
 for benevolence towards the poor, was content in his 
 simple domicile. 
 
 Villar is beautifully situated amongst the heights, 
 with towering mountains above it, and a fine plain 
 below, for the valley here widens out : the village is as 
 rugged and wretched as its neighbours, and its impos- 
 ing appearance at a distance, is strangely contradicted 
 by the reality of ruin it presents on a closer view. 
 
54 SILK-WORMS. 
 
 Throughoift the valleys, the name of Bert is vene- 
 rated, though the venerable pastor is no more ; his 
 family, however, who seem to have inherited his 
 excellence and piety, are still scattered over this part 
 of the country. I was surprised to find in the secluded 
 retreat of Santa Margarita, near La Torre, in the 
 wife of one of the sons, an accomplished and beauti- 
 ful countrywoman, who, having settled there with 
 her husband, has become a Vaudoise. The air of 
 the valley, however, does not agree with the health 
 of the amiable Englishwoman, and 1 saw, with sor- 
 row, that she was suffering grievously from its 
 effects, and pining for her native sea-breezes. I saw 
 an establishment of silk-worms belonging to her 
 mother-in-law, a very agreeable, cheerful old lady, 
 whose whole mind seems wrapt up in the judicious 
 management of these wonderful animals, which are 
 more precious and useful than pleasing to one who 
 has no personal interest in their success. I was 
 unfortunate enough to express a dislike to the smell 
 of the chambers where they lie on mulberry couches 
 in countless rows, awaiting their mysterious trans- 
 formation, when, clothed in gorgeous silk, they 
 acquire their Pysche wings, never in these dwellings 
 allowed to expand, but where they are destined to a 
 scalding deaths while their riches are claimed by 
 others. 
 
 The tender mistress of all these cherished slaves 
 was evidently shocked at my want of consideration 
 for her useful pets ; and taking up one of the ugly 
 
SANTA MARGARITA. 55 
 
 insects to show me, exclaimed, caressing it, as I drew 
 back, "Ah ! le joli, le charmant petit bete — si bon, 
 si genereux !" 
 
 Excellent and amiable as these creatures are, their 
 vicinity is by no means pleasant, and the villages 
 where they are nursed do not invite to saunter ; 
 every cottage is full of them ; and so precious are 
 they, that it is not uncommon in cold, rainy seasons, 
 for the peasant women to carry them in their bosoms, 
 to shield them 
 
 " From the bitter piercing air." 
 
 In Santa Margarita, there is a fabrique of cloth, 
 which employs many hands. Its steam engines seem 
 strangely out of place in this remote spot, but all of 
 industry and occupation there is found in their 
 vicinity. 
 
 A hospital has been established at La Torre by 
 funds raised amongst the zealous and benevolent 
 Protestants of England, and the Continental Pro- 
 testant states ; and the college I before alluded to» 
 which is all completed but its gates,* and is a spacious 
 and airy building. It has a library, more than 
 half of which is composed of English books, which, 
 when it is recollected that not one professor, or any 
 person connected with the establishment, understands 
 a word of English, is amusing enough. Those who 
 make donations of books, which many have done 
 largely, would do well to remember this circumstance. 
 
 The devotion shewn totheVaudois by Colonel 
 
 * The munificence of an Enghsh lady, who was my companion, 
 has suppUed the necessary funds for their completion. 
 
56 THE WOODEN WALL. 
 
 Beckwith, who resides amongst them, and by Dr. 
 Gilly, who has written much respecting them, is 
 highly appreciated ; and much do both these bene- 
 factors deserve at the hands of the people whom they 
 have so zealously served. 
 
 San Giovanni is out of the valley, and we visited 
 it on our return to Turin. The churches stand well, 
 and their position is singular : a very large Pro- 
 testant temple, of a semicircular form, extremely 
 striking from its high square towers, occupies the 
 highest ground : on the opposite side of a little 
 stream is the Catholic church, of a much humbler 
 character ; but humility or tolerance formed no part 
 of the feeling of its occupants, for they saw with 
 vexation their ambitious neighbour, and resolved to 
 mortify the pride which offended them. 
 
 The priests, accordingly, represented to their 
 bishops, that the sound of the nasal singing of the 
 heretics was carried across the water, and greatly 
 disturbed them at their devotions ; add to which the 
 sight of so many unbelievers distressed their minds. 
 It was therefore decreed that a wooden wall should 
 be erected in front of the Protestant place of worship, 
 which should effectually conceal the abomination, 
 and deaden the voices of the singers of the detested 
 canticles. No part of this wall now exists, and it is 
 to be hoped the uncharitable feeling of the opposing 
 Christians disappeared with the last plank which 
 divided them from their brethren. 
 
 There has been much contention amongst the 
 learned respecting the origin of the appellation of 
 
THE VAUDOIS. 57 
 
 ** Vaudois," which has never" been satisfactorily 
 settled. From very early times, the inhabitants of 
 these valleys seem to have differed from the Church 
 of Rome, and to have long professed the same faith 
 which they now exercise, without opposition : but 
 they shared the ill fortunes of their brethren, the Al- 
 bigenses, and, though more peaceable subjects, could 
 not escape suspicion and ill-treatment, at the time 
 when Crusades were not confined to the realms 
 where existed 
 
 " The foul Paynim 
 Who beheveth on Mahound." 
 
 Before the middle of the thirteenth century, how- 
 ever, it does not appear that the Vaudois of the 
 valleys were molested, nor forced to petition any of 
 their princes for redress of wrongs ; but about that 
 period. Piedmont fell under the dominion of Thomas, 
 Count of Savoy, and this prince, who had been 
 leagued with many other chiefs under Simon de 
 Montfort against Raymond 6th of Toulouse, on his 
 return from Languedoc, after having severely chas- 
 tised the refractory Albigeois, began to look about 
 him at home, and to consider whether he could not 
 find, amongst his own subjects, more victims to his 
 awakened zeal. He could not, however, discover 
 that they deserved his religious ire, and desisted 
 from injuring them, on their humble representations. 
 But the eyes of Rome were not closed upon their 
 heterodoxy, and opportunity alone was wanting to 
 attack them. 
 
58 THE DUCHESS YOLANDE. 
 
 In the next century, Pope Paul the Second 
 roused himself, and resolved to ascertain at once the 
 exact state of the simple souls in these quiet valleys. 
 He sent the inquisitor, Aquapendente, with a ful- 
 minating bull against all who did not instantly 
 embrace Catholicism. The Duchess Yolande had 
 been persuaded to accompany this bull by an edict 
 to the same purpose. 
 
 Yolande was the sister of the Virgin-loving Louis 
 XI. whose policy at that time led him to persecu- 
 tion, in order to please the church of Rome : and, 
 to the grief of the Duchess, who was then regent 
 for her son Philibert, she was obliged to use this 
 severity against her unoffending subjects. The 
 Protestants, did not tamely submit to the injus- 
 tice, and were obliged to repel force by force, till 
 the death of Louis XL relieved them, for a time 
 from their difficulties, which recommenced in 1534 
 in consequence of the hospitality which the Vaudois 
 had granted to their distressed brethren of Languedoc, 
 who fled into their valleys for refuge. 
 
 Duke Charles III. of Savoy stood their friend 
 against the persecutors, for he counted on their 
 loyalty to assist him when he disputed the entrance 
 of Francis the First into the Milanais. But the 
 superior forces of Francis triumphed over the feeble 
 obstacles which Charles could offer, and the Vaudois, 
 together with Turin, and a part of the Duke's 
 possessions, became subject to the French monarch. 
 
 Ii 
 
CASTROCARO. 59 
 
 For some cause or other, Francis spared his new 
 subjects, and when, afterwards, Emanuel Philibert 
 married Marguerite, the sister of Henry the Second, 
 his rights were restored to him, and the Protestants 
 treated kindly by the princess and her husband. 
 Then came the war against the Huguenots, and the 
 ambitious and cruel Guises insisted on Duke 
 Emanuel's extirpating heresy in his dominions. 
 
 The terrible Castrocaro was commissioned to 
 visit the peaceful valleys of the unfortunate Vaudois ; 
 and by his orders, the fort of Mirabouc, of which 
 remains still exist, was erected in the valley of 
 Lucerne. The amiable Duchess Marguerite en- 
 treated him to be lenient towards her subjects, but 
 he had the art to represent them as turbulent and 
 unruly ; and she saw with sorrow the impossibility 
 of protecting them. The fatal 25th of August, 1572, 
 revealed to all Europe the mistake its governors had 
 made in trusting to the clemency of the house of 
 Medici ; and Emanuel Philibert, trembling for his 
 devoted people of the Reformed religion, hastened 
 to restrain the furious zeal of the fanatic Castrocaro: 
 he even permitted the Vaudois to extend protection 
 to the fugitive Huguenots, and for a space they had 
 no reason to complain of severity : for if their rulers 
 were occasionally unjust for a time, they allowed 
 their natural indulgence to preponderate. 
 
 But the Inquisition and the Society de Propa- 
 ganda Fide became weary of seeing " Mordecai sit- 
 
60 
 
 PERSECUTION. 
 
 ting in the king's gate/' and, more successful " ad- 
 versaries and enemies," they brought about the 
 destruction which they had long meditated. 
 
 It was represented to the Duchess Marguerite, 
 sister of Louis the Thirteenth, and to her son Charles 
 Emanuel the Second, that the Vaudois were not 
 only rebels, but capable of the most appalling crimes, 
 and that it was incumbent on them, as faithful fol- 
 lowers of the true faith, to extirpate them, even to 
 their very names. 
 
 Annoyed by these constant representations, the 
 Duke and Duchess weakly allowed themselves to 
 consent to a reform being worked amongst these 
 outcasts from salvation ; they shut their eyes to the 
 truth, and permitted all the acts of horror which 
 desolated the valleys of the Vaudois, in April 1655. 
 In the old book, to which I have before alluded, are 
 the most hideous representations of the dreadful 
 scenes which took place : these frightful pictures are 
 engraved most delicately, and with the utmost care, 
 'as if their subjects were of the most attractive na- 
 ture, instead of monstrosities which freeze the blood 
 to think of. The Protestant powers came to the 
 relief of the sufferers, and obtained an edict called by 
 the insulting title of Patents of Pardon, as if the 
 victims had really been guilty of any crime towards 
 their oppressors. They accepted however this con- 
 cession, and, protected as they were, contrived to 
 enjoy some tranquillity for a time. 
 
 Cromwell bestirred himself in their behalf, and 
 
PATRIOTS. 61 
 
 obtained them some privileges, as well as assisting 
 them with considerable sums of money. 
 
 The revocation of the Edict of Nantes, which in- 
 flicted so deep a wound upon the prosperity of France, 
 was deeply felt in the Vaudois. The bigoted orders 
 from Versailles, were obeyed by the overawed court 
 of Turin, and in spite of the representations of the 
 evangelical cantons of Switzerland, the Piedmontese 
 Protestants were sacrificed. Commanded by their 
 sovereign to embrace the Catholic religion, or to 
 quit his dominions, the Vaudois did not hesitate 
 which to choose. They departed, and were received 
 with open arms at Geneva, throughout Switzerland, 
 in Wirtemberg, in the Palatinate, in Hesse and 
 Brandenberg, many also took refuge in Holland, 
 and elsewhere. Here they remained in exile for a 
 short time, but there were spirits amongst their 
 number, who could not brook the injustice under 
 which they groaned, and who resolved, at all hazards, 
 to regain their abandoned homes. 
 
 A determined body of about nine hundred assem-^ 
 bled, with this intent, in the woods of Noyon, on the 
 beautiful borders of the lake of Geneva, and crossing 
 the lake, whose clear surface is a mirror to the eter- 
 nal snows of the most sublime of all mountains, 
 these patriot pilgrims of faith, crossed the mountains 
 of Savoy, regardless of danger and fatigue, and 
 reached at length the valley of Oulx, where their 
 progress was arrested by a band of French troops. 
 A violent struggle ensued, but those who fought for 
 
62 THE ATTACK. 
 
 their homes were not to be driven back, and a glo- 
 rius triumph crowned their efforts at the bridge of 
 Salabertran. 
 
 It was on the tenth day after they had left the 
 wood of Noyon, that they reached the Val St. Mar- 
 tin, and once more trod their native soil : but from 
 this moment their hardships may be said to have 
 begun, they were hunted from place to place, and 
 winter came with great inclemency to harass them 
 still more. They concentrated their forces, and, con- 
 cealed amongst the rocks of La Balsille, they for- 
 tified themselves as in a citadel, and subsisted on 
 the scanty provisions they were able to procure in 
 the neighbourhood. 
 
 M. de Catenat, who commanded the French in 
 Piedmont, came in person to the valley of Saint 
 Martin, and attacked, but without success, the for- 
 tress which the patriots had erected. Disgusted at 
 his failure he abandoned the enterprise to his general 
 the Marquis de Feuquiere, who, with twenty-two 
 ^thousand men, after battering the fort for fourteen 
 days with cannon, succeeded in becoming master of 
 it. He entered in triumph, but found to his disap- 
 pointment and amazement, that the besieged were 
 fled to a man. 
 
 Profiting by the darkness of night, the Vaudois 
 had contrived to escape, and almost miraculously, 
 had crossed the most frightful precipices, and placed 
 insurmountable barriers between them and their 
 foes. They retreated to the heights, and concealed 
 
THE GLORIOUS RETURN. 63 
 
 themselves in the hamlets of Rodoret and Pralig, 
 where they found for their subsistence a considerable 
 quantity of corn, which the snow had preserved 
 during winter, and which had never been reaped, 
 owing to the war which disturbed the country. 
 
 This was the dawn of their good fortune, which 
 the next summer became still brighter, for a differ- 
 ence having sprung up between France and Savoy, 
 the Duke was delighted to find so determined a 
 reinforcement of his subjects already on the frontier. 
 He lost no time in offering them his protection and 
 welcome, incorporated them into his own troops, 
 consented to, and invited their return, and by his 
 Edict of 1694, declared frankly that the persecutions 
 they had met with were only submitted to by him, 
 because he was compelled to give way to the superior 
 force of a greater power. 
 
 Then arrived that epoch in the history of the 
 Vaudois, proudly called by them, 'The Glorious 
 Return ;' the narrative of all those events is attributed 
 to their heroic leader Henry Arnaud, surnamed the 
 Great. But it was probably written by the Pastor 
 Montoux, his equally celebrated companion and asr 
 sistant in the work so bravely performed. Both 
 were ministers of the Reformed religion, and both 
 had devoted their hearts and their arms to the just 
 cause, in which they so signally succeeded. 
 
 Arnaud's remains repose in Germany, where he 
 died at the age of eighty years, full of honours and 
 of fame. His tomb may be seen in the church of 
 
64 THE CHIEF 
 
 Schoenberg near Durrmenz. The following- is liis 
 epitaph : 
 
 " Beneath lie the remains of Henri Arnaud, the pastor of the 
 Vaudois, and the commander of their troops. Though you here 
 behold his tomb, no one can depict to you his exalted deeds, or 
 his great heart, which nothing could subdue. Alone, the son of 
 Jesse fought against a host of Philistines, and alone he put to 
 flight their armies and their chief. 
 
 " He died the 8th September 1721, and was buried in the 
 eightieth year of his age." 
 
 The pastor Montoux belonged to Pragelat, and as 
 this valley was in the possession of the French, he 
 could not return to it, and therefore went back to 
 Wirtemberg, where he established a new colony of 
 Vaudois. 
 
 The return of the Protestants to their valleys was 
 the cause of new hostilities from France to Savoy, and 
 Victor Amadeus was forced to fly from his capital, 
 which with much of his possessions, had fallen into 
 the power of the French : he shewed his confidence 
 in his subjects of the Vaudois, by throwing himself 
 amongst them, and found them full of loyalty and 
 devotion, and ready to defend him as they had de- 
 fended their own rights. 
 
 In a family at Rora is still preserved a silver goblet 
 used by the prince in his journeyings, and which 
 was left by him with his hosts, the family of Durand- 
 Canton, as a souvenir, when he quitted their hospita- 
 ble roof. 
 
 From this time the Vaudois were allowed the free 
 exercise of their religion: the number of their churches 
 
THE BARBETS. 65 
 
 was however reduced to fifteen, and thirteen pastors 
 were appointed to serve them, but their poverty pre- 
 venting their supporting themselves, for the expenses 
 incurred for public instruction, they were obliged to 
 depend on the aid of those of the Reformed Church 
 w^ho were capable of assisting them. Queen Mary 
 of England, wife of William the Third, granted a 
 royal subsidy to supply salaries for the pastors of 
 the Valleys, and even for those of Wirtemberg. The 
 States-General of Holland contributed greatly to 
 their support, and Switzerland was not behind in the 
 benevolent work. 
 
 England still contributes annually considerable 
 sums in aid of the Vaudois, and there is no lack of 
 interest for this interesting remnant of the early 
 Reformed religion. 
 
 The pastors of the Vaudois were called in 
 derision by their enemies Barbets, as the Protes- 
 tants of France were called Huguenots. This 
 epithet came from the patois word barbe, uncle, by 
 which name the clergy were called : old men are 
 still so addressed, and formerly it was a title of re- 
 spect : it was the custom also to designate a woman 
 magna, aunt. This title of Barbets was chosen from 
 disrespect by the Catholics, and in order to throw 
 still greater contempt on the ministers, the same 50- 
 briquet was applied to a band of robbers, who for 
 some time infested the mountains of Coni.* 
 
 * For this brief account of the Vaudois, I am chiefly indebted 
 to a very interesting pamphlet, wiitten by the late pastor of La 
 
 F 
 
66 
 
 THE HYMNS. 
 
 The late M. Bert, pastor of Torre, who watched 
 over his flock with the most paternal care, wrote for 
 them a scries of hymns, which he wished them to sing 
 on pubhc occasions, rather than the popular ballads of 
 the country : his was like, with a difference, the ver- 
 sion of the Psalms by Marot, set to fashionable tunes, 
 and which was adopted by the Court of Henry II. 
 of France. The peasants of the Valleys now sing to 
 Psalm tunes, lines on " the pruning of the vine," at 
 the " gathering of the cocoons,*' at the " hay har- 
 vest," on the ** departure of the herds for the Alps," 
 at the " reaping season," and the " sowing of Indian 
 corn," — " the vintage," —on the " potatoe crop," that 
 of " hemp," of "chesnuts," and other periods of 
 rejoicing and expectation. These simple verses are 
 suited to their capacity, and are extremely good of 
 their kind. I heard some of them sung by the 
 school-children with all the force of their lungs, but 
 I confess I did not perceive much melody amongst 
 the rosy-faced crowd who lifted up their voices with 
 such perseverance. 
 
 Torre, M. Bert : it is called " Le Livre de Famille," and is written 
 in a familiar style for the use of his flock, in order to give them a 
 general knowledge of their own history. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE ROUTE RESUMED. 
 
 STUPINIGI — NAPOLEON — THE GARDENS —THE IMPROVISATOKE 
 
 POETS — MUSEO EGYZIO — PIAZZAS — THE STRANGER AT THE 
 GATE— THE FUGITIVE — THE CULPRIT— THE HOSPITAL. 
 
 We paused on our return to Turin in order to 
 pass an hour in the gardens of the royal hunting 
 palace of Stupinigi, a pretty retreat at a short dis- 
 tance from the capital, very little visited by its 
 owners, though apparently commodious and very 
 agreeable. The palace has rather an imposing effect, 
 with its long range of building, stables, menagerie 
 and outhouses. All was so silent and deserted be- 
 neath the fine avenues, that it was with some diffi- 
 culty we were able to discover any one to admit us 
 to the gardens, and wandered about in the shade, 
 watching for the appearance of some one who might 
 chance to emerge from the closed doors. Our patron 
 at last appeared in the shape of a little boy, who 
 having volunteered to find for us, 
 
 **01d Adam's likeness set to dress this garden," 
 
 we followed him beneath the shadow of a long 
 wall flanked by a grassy ditch, till we reached an iron 
 grate. Having arrived there he suddenly recollected 
 
 F 2 
 
68 NAPOLEON. 
 
 that he had no key and that the guardian of the 
 hidden treasure must be sought elsewhere. We 
 retired beneath the trees till we were assured that 
 ingress was possible, as the heat of the day was in- 
 creasing every moment, and at length were admitted 
 amongst the pots of orange trees, and the charming, 
 though formal walks of the Stupinigi gardens. 
 
 A glittering stag surmounts the palace, indica- 
 ting its dedication to the pleasures of the chase, and 
 the garden front is extremely elegant. 
 
 In this palace Napoleon rested when he was on 
 his way to Milan, to be crowned King of Italy, and 
 here he received the magistrates and deputies, who 
 crowded to do him honour. Instigated by his artful 
 and hateful Egyptianiscd favourite, Menou, whom 
 he had instituted tyrant of Piedmont, he treated the 
 cringing deputies with insolence and severity, for 
 the first time shewing his real character, which it 
 had hitherto been his policy to make the Sardinians 
 and Milanese believe was mild, peaceful and indul- 
 gent. 
 
 The silly ' Shallows' of Milan started to hear him 
 utter threats instead of soothing words, and exclaimed 
 to each other as they retired from the stormy audi- 
 ence which the future Emperor accorded them : 
 
 *' And fall these sayings from that gentle tongue. 
 Where civil speech and soft persuasion hung !'* 
 
 But it was at Stupinigi that Napoleon first began 
 to lay aside the mask he had assumed, and hence- 
 forth to adopt the triumphant tone of a conqueror. 
 
THE GARDENS. 69 
 
 We remained for some time beneath the shade of 
 the formally cut trees, wandering along the fine ave- 
 nues and in the maze, which reminds one of Hampton 
 Court. I never heard such a chorus of nightingales 
 and thrushes : from every brake their lovely voices 
 sounded, till the groves re-echoed with melody : 
 there were but few flowers in the gardens, but the 
 gardener seemed anxious that we should think well 
 of his skill, which was exerted apparently to culti- 
 vate little but pretty bunches of sweet-william, 
 which, under the musical name of garofalo, we ac- 
 cepted as a treasure. The heat was at this time 
 extreme, and the sun streamed with unclouded 
 radiance, from a sky of intense blue : nothing could 
 be more enjoyable than the soft air beneath the 
 shade of these bowers, and I was sorry to re-enter 
 Turin and cross the blazing piazza to our hotel. 
 
 The weather continued the same for several fol- 
 lowing days, and the genial climate of Italy seemed 
 assured to us. J began to think there was here sta- 
 bility, and the absence of that humidity from which 
 we suffer so much in England : but though it re- 
 mained hot, the clear blue sky suddenly lost its 
 radiance, fleeting clouds obscured its face, and a 
 violent storm of thunder and lightning altered the 
 front of heaven on the same night we returned. 
 
 Nothing, however, could exceed the brilliancy of 
 the next day, and a fine air gave relief to the over- 
 powering force of the sun. I was extremely enter- 
 
70 THE IMPUOVISATORE. 
 
 tained watching the effect produced on the crowd in 
 the square, from my customary station at my win- 
 dow in the hotel, in the exhibition of his powers, by 
 an improvisatore, who stood at least two hours de- 
 lighting his audience. I was too far removed above 
 the scene of action, to hear his words, but, to judge 
 by their success, they must have had merit, for every 
 now and then, bursts of laughter and clapping of 
 hands rewarded his efforts. He seemed to take 
 advantage of any passing circumstance around him, 
 and to introduce allusions to it in his address, for he 
 occasionally pointed to individuals in the crowd 
 which action never failed to excite mirth and ap- 
 plause. 
 
 The time was once when Turin fostered poets, 
 and it may be that her old taste still clings to her 
 modern walls, perhaps the lays of my friend in the 
 Piazzo del Castello, might have vied with those of 
 his brethren of the lyre, in the 12th century, when 
 Turin was the scene of a poetical fete at the time 
 that the Emperor Frederick the First met Raymond 
 Berenger, 2nd Count of Provence here, and bestowed 
 on him the investiture of his fiefs. The Count 
 brought w^ith him a distinguished suite of nobles, 
 all poets, and the accomplished Emperor, to whom 
 every language was famihar, heard with delight 
 lays and poems, 
 
 "Able to draw man's envy upon man." 
 
 Frederick, in return for the pleasure thus afforded 
 
POETS. 71 
 
 him, addressed the poets in the following frequently 
 cited lines :* 
 
 I joy to meet a knight of France, 
 
 A Catalonian fair to see, 
 For honour, Genoa I'd advance, 
 
 And in Castile my court should be. 
 
 Sing me the songs of gay Provence, 
 Let Trevisana's damsels dance. 
 And Aragon's fine forms be seen. 
 With Julian's pearlf of priceless sheen : 
 Bold England's hands and features fair. 
 And Tuscan youths of graceful air. 
 
 I was entertained in observing the scene I have 
 described, as it proved that the old fame enjoyed by 
 Northern Italy for her improvisatore is not altogether 
 worn out. The tone of the poet I listened to was 
 precisely that usually described as adopted in the 
 olden time, something between speaking and singing. 
 I know not if he spoke in the rustic language known 
 as Lingua Contadinesca, adopted by Lorenzo de' 
 Medici in his ' Nencia da Barberino' as appropriate 
 and novel, and followed up by several poets, who ad- 
 mired its simplicity, but at all events, his allusions 
 and the witty turns given to his discourse highly 
 gratified his audience. 
 
 As the time we could spare at Turin would not 
 permit of lingering, we contented ourselves with visit- 
 
 * Plas mi cavalier France z, 
 
 E la donna Catalina : &c. 
 
 t The poet's meaning in this line is obscure. 
 
72 MUSKO EGYZIO. 
 
 ing only one of the sights of the town. 1 was 
 attracted by the fame of the celebrated Isiac table at 
 the Museo Egyzio. The museum, like all others of its 
 kind, requires time and attention, and is more valu- 
 able to the learned than interesting to a hurried 
 traveller. It is a work of no little perseverance and 
 labour to reach the rooms where the chief treasures 
 are lodged, in the upper story of an immensely high 
 Palazzo. Few persons in Turin seem inclined 
 to disturb the solitude of the custode, an old soldier 
 of Nai)oleon's, who appears thoroughly ennuye with 
 his post, and who, delighted to have an opportunity 
 of breaking silence, poured fortli for our edification 
 a history of his own hair-breadth 'scapes in Egypt, 
 which was I suppose to serve instead of other infor- 
 mation, as no catalogue or indication of any sort 
 assists the ignorance of the stranger. 
 
 This belligerent guide, who was very loud and 
 violent, and what with patois and energetic expletives 
 startled the museum from its propriety, gave credit to 
 Dr. Young for his discoveries, as well as Champollion, 
 probably with a view of pleasing his English auditors. 
 Every mummy and engraved stone seemed to revive 
 his recollections of eminent deadly breaches, and he 
 paused before many a grim seated statue, menacing 
 it with his hand, and recounting the firings and de- 
 solations which he had witnessed in the country of 
 the mute culprit. 
 
 The wonderfully preserved Isiac tablet of engraved 
 bronze is certainly as great a marvel as its meaning 
 
PALACES. 73 
 
 is a secret : it is as fresh and bright as if it had never 
 been removed from the temple of Isis, which it 
 adorned. If Egyptian deities could think, they might 
 have cause for the derisive smile which is settled on 
 the features of many of them, as they sit in awful 
 rows, cold and watchful, with their stony eyes fixed 
 on the contending and turbulent savans, who have 
 so long disputed about this singular relic of antiquity, 
 which, if not older than the age of Adrian, is a mere 
 mushroom wonder, worthless of consideration in the 
 presence of dark gods, whose unchanged forms have 
 crouched upon their pedestals for thousands of un- 
 counted years, and yet whose heavy features are as 
 sharp in their outlines as if they had just started into 
 the shape they chose to assume. 
 
 Ifthe magnificent palaces of Turin were completed, 
 the town would be one of the finest in Europe, but 
 as it is, scarcely a single building is finished : many 
 of them are decorated in part, as if to show what 
 the intention of the architect was, while the greatest 
 portion is left rough and rugged, waiting till some 
 lucky accident shall cause it to be put an end to, ac- 
 cording to the first intention of the designer. Thus 
 it is, amongst many others, at the Palazzo Carignano, 
 designed by the architect Guarini, which exhibits 
 great profusion of finish on one facade, while the 
 wingsremain in an unfinished state. Half the houses 
 round the great squares are in a similar condition, 
 so that the city has the air of having been suddenly 
 arrested in the midst of its construction. 
 
74 PIAZZAS. 
 
 Most of the squares are large and fine, and from 
 that of Vittorio Emanuele the view of the Po and the 
 Cohna is extremely animating. San Carlo is the finest : 
 it is adorned by a splendid statue, full of life and 
 truth, of Emanuele Filberto, called Tete de Fer, the 
 husband of Marguerite of France, the daughter of 
 Francis the First. It was at this marriage that the 
 fatal tournament took place, where the brother of the 
 bride lost his life from the unlucky spear- thrust of 
 Montgomery, a cause of enmity which the vindictive 
 Catherine de' Medici would never forgive. 
 
 Turin, in spite of its modern improvements, cannot 
 even yet divest itself of numerous recollections of 
 old time, which continually recur in the midst of 
 the admiration one feels of recent beauties. 
 
 Late at night, for not till that period is there any 
 quiet in Italian or German towns, I looked across 
 the large square where our temporary domicile was 
 situated, where every object was uncertain in its form, 
 by the light only of numerous stars, and the antique 
 portion of the castle then appeared to resume its for- 
 mer consequence: those lofty towers, with long pierced 
 loop-holes, rising proudly against the dark but still 
 clear sky, spangled with glittering lights, looked like 
 spirits of another time, which at that hour had their 
 turn to preside over the fortunes of the city. 
 
 It was perhaps " on such a night," that the war- 
 dour of the gates of Turin, then strong and me- 
 nacing and defying attack, was startled by a voice 
 without, which demanded admittance. The sulky 
 
THE STRANGER AT THE GATE. 75 
 
 wardour roused himself from his slumbers, and re- 
 paired to the wicket with his keys, but without the 
 intention of using them in favour of the disturber, 
 if he could avoid it. 
 
 " Who knocks so loud at this late peaceful hour?" 
 was his querulous question, as he reconnoitred the 
 stranger on the other side of the grate. 
 
 " Open quickly," said a hurried voice ; "I am 
 pursued and in peril. I have roamed from town to 
 town, from village to village, and weary, faint and 
 heartless, I come for protection to the Duke of 
 Savoy against my enemies ; they are close at hand 
 — delay not an instant. 
 
 ** A parole stolte orecchie sorde," replied the 
 porter ; " who are you that clamour in this way, 
 as if you were a prince in disguise : how am I to 
 know whether the Duke cares for your danger or 
 yourself?" 
 
 " Admit me, I entreat," exclaimed the stranger, 
 in accents of extreme agitation ; " I hear their 
 horses following me — I see lights gleaming and 
 spears shining— I have no one to defend me, and 
 am lost if 1 obtain not shelter." 
 
 " Who are you, friend ?" returned the porter, 
 rather startled by the earnestness of the stranger's 
 entreaties ; " can't you tell your name, at least, that 
 I may judge if you are fit to be admitted into 
 Turin, — I may get the worst for letting some mad- 
 man in upon the Duke, for what I know. ' Al credulo 
 grandi spalle.' " 
 
76 THE FUGITIVE. 
 
 " I am one," replied the stranger, " who was once 
 honoured and caressed, whose name had a spell, the 
 power of which would have made the gates of palaces 
 fly open throughout all Italy, — now they are closed 
 against me. I am Torquato Tasso. Go to the 
 Duke, — tell him I fly from Ferrara, and come to his 
 hearth for protection and pity." 
 
 " Tasso !" exclaimed another voice, as a young 
 officer of the guard, attracted by the altercation, 
 approached the spot, — "does Tasso stand at the 
 gates of Turin and entreat hospitality in vain ? 
 Throw the doors open wide, and admit the greatest 
 poet of Europe— the glory of my native Sorrento." 
 
 Tasso entered the city, travel-worn, faint and 
 exhausted in body and mind ; but no sooner had 
 the Duke of Savoy learnt that he desired an audience 
 than he was joyfully admitted to his presence, and 
 assured of protection and welcome. He had neither 
 money nor attendants, had wandered alone from 
 one end of Italy to the other, and like the moth 
 circling the light, had once more returned to the 
 north and to the danger he dreaded. 
 
 Tasso was at this period, 1577, thirty -three years 
 of age, in the full bloom of youth and fame, but al- 
 ready the fatal fire of genius had began to consume 
 the mind it illumined : his passions were violent, 
 his temper uncontrollable, he could not brook offence 
 or slight, and he magnified impertinences into in- 
 juries, until he wearied those who would have shielded 
 him. He had deeply offended the Duke Alfonso 
 
THE HOSPITAL OF SANTA ANNA. 77 
 
 the Second, by intemperate fury on more than one 
 occasion, and if rumour spoke truth, by a too daring 
 demonstration of attachment to the sister of the 
 sovereign. His own panic at the consequences likely 
 to ensue from his presumption, had, it appears, been 
 the cause of his present flight, and he wandered, 
 imprudently proclaiming at every court in Italy, 
 his wrongs and his provocations, until the wrath of 
 Alfonso grew as fearful as the poet's terrors and his 
 conscience had imaged it to be in the beginning. 
 
 Discontented and restless, longing to return to 
 the dangerous presence of Leonora D'Este, and 
 again to dare the anger of her brother, or perhaps, 
 hoping to find it appeased, Tasso allowed himself to 
 become mistrustful of the Duke of Savoy, and soon 
 quitted Turin, in the same state of agitated terror of 
 his enemies as he had entered it. 
 
 Alas ! he fled to his doom ! for Alfonso, as a 
 fitting accompaniment to the rejoicings on his 
 own marriage with Margaret of Gonzaga, assigned 
 the hospital of Santa Anna at Ferrara, for the 
 abode of the supposed lunatic. Here the enthu- 
 siastic, impetuous, irritable and imprudent poet 
 expiated by frightful suflering, the breach of eti- 
 quette, which had angered, and the complaints which 
 had enraged, the proud prince who once cherished 
 and boasted of the friendship of the first poet of the 
 age. Horrible were the agonies of mind and body 
 which Tasso must have endured, when he composed 
 those appeals to his supposed friends, which stood 
 
78 TASSO'S ADDRESS. 
 
 him in so little stead. Alas ! the fair and thought- 
 less sisters to whom he appealed, and whose 
 interest with their stern father he supplicated, pro- 
 bably threw aside his despairing verses with con- 
 tempt, and braided their hair with flowers for a fes- 
 tival, while he still groaned in prison. 
 
 Affecting beyond expression, are those sad lines 
 of his " O figlie di Renata !" less known, perhaps, 
 than some of the exquisite verses which have crowned 
 him with fame. 
 
 TASSO'S ADDEESS FROM PRISON TO THE TWO DAUGHTERS 
 OF ALFONSO THE SECOND. 
 
 Oh, daughters of fair Renata,* attend ! 
 
 To you I cry, who once have called me friend — 
 
 You, gracious, gentle, beautiful and high. 
 
 To you I dare recount my misery : 
 
 Dare tell a part of my distressful tale. 
 
 Dare hope that ancient mem'ries will prevail. 
 
 And years of past enjoyment still recal — 
 
 Before my banishment, before my fall. 
 
 And you will think, while sorrow shades each brow. 
 
 On what I was — on what I suifer now ! 
 
 Who keeps me barr'd and chain' d in dreary shade. 
 
 In whom I trusted — and by whom betray' d. 
 
 Remember this, daughters of regal race. 
 Behold me with'ring in this dismal place ; 
 
 * Renata or Ren^e, the mother of these sisters, had favoured 
 the Protestants, and was, in consequence, long an exile and a 
 prisoner. It was dangerous to mention her name at Alfonso's 
 court, but Tasso ventured to do so, hoping to excite the com- 
 passion of her daughters. 
 
FUGITIVE POETS. 79 
 
 Words are too faint to tell my load of grief, 
 
 Tears are my eloquence — my sole relief. 
 
 Where are the joys I knew when in your bowers. 
 
 The lutes, the songs, the wreaths of perfumed flowers ? 
 
 Tears in their place, sad tears for me alone. 
 
 To whom such transient, blissful days were known. 
 
 Where are the sports that I was wont to share. 
 
 The glories, and the cherish' d studies — where? — 
 
 Where are the palaces, the bright arcades. 
 
 The festal lay, the mirth, the gay parades ? 
 
 Gone — past — and I, in every pleasure crost — 
 
 Lost to all human hope — for ever lost ! 
 
 Along the plains of Lombardy has wandered 
 many a poet ; this part of Italy indeed seems conse- 
 crated to the misfortunes of men of genius. Dante, 
 Petrarch, Tasso, have fled from town to town in this 
 region, and left the memory of their passage as a 
 relic. 
 
 When Petrarch was seven years old, he saw the 
 immortal Dante, then a fugitive, and over the same 
 ground he had himself to fly in after years, when 
 the chords of the great poet's lyre were hushed, for 
 faction was still abroad, and strife continued to disturb 
 the repose of genius. The Count of Mastini, the 
 wicked nephew of the great Can, received the poet 
 for awhile at Verona ; at Milan he sojourned with 
 the Visconti, with the Este at Ferrara, and in the 
 Universities of Padua and Bologna, he occasionally 
 forgot the vexations of party. At Venice the poet 
 ambassador, called by the Venetians " The Doge of 
 the Republic of Letters," negociated with Dandolo, 
 
80 BOCCACCIO. 
 
 and to Venice he gave a precious library — not a 
 vestige of whicli remains at this day I and it was 
 near Milan that he concealed himself awhile from 
 pomp and the world's glory, to live in his own world 
 of books and poetry, and to converse on literature 
 and taste with his frank and true friend and admirer, 
 the poet of the Decameron, who sought him in his 
 retreat with a mission of peace from Florence. 
 
 Boccaccio, much as he loved Petrarch, was more 
 satisfied no doubt to see him in his seclusion than to 
 have met him at the court of Milan, for he thus 
 writes to him in 1354, reproaching the poet on his 
 companionship with tyrants :* 
 
 " I would be silent, but I cannot : reverence restrains, but in- 
 dignation compels me to speak. How could Petrarch so far forget 
 his own dignity, the conversations we held together concerning the 
 state of Italy, his hatred for the archbishop, (John Visconti) his 
 love for soUtude and independence, so far as to imprison himself 
 at the court of Milan ? Why did not Petrarch obey the dictates of 
 his conscience ? Why did he, who called Visconti a Polyphemus 
 and a monster of pride, place himself under his yoke ? How could 
 Visconti win that which no pontiff, which neither Robert of Naples 
 nor the Emperor himself, could ever obtain ?" 
 
 When the lover of Fiammeta, the minstrel of the 
 maligned Queen Joanna, fled in disgust from the 
 unworthy treatment he received at the hands of a 
 noble patron, who herded him with menials, it was 
 at Venice that Petrarch's welcome made amends for 
 the indignity; and doubtless the canals and lagunes 
 
 * Mariotti. 
 
LAURA AND SIGISMUNDA. 81 
 
 for many a moonlight night, the melodious confidences 
 of the friends, while laments for Laura mingled with 
 the sorrows of Sigismunda, one heroine perhaps being 
 as fabulous as the other. There was but a year 
 between the deaths of these great men, whose friend- 
 ship lasted to the end. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 "Tlie population of the vales of the Po and the Adige, of all 
 that vast tract which lies betveeen the Alps and Apennines, down 
 to the Adriatic sea, and which is still distinguished by the vague 
 appellation of Lombardy, the fairest, as well as the richest part of 
 the country, preserves evident marks of its northern origin. 
 
 " This beautiful plain, fenced as it were by its two snowy ridges, 
 smiling like a garden, spreading like an ocean, with a thousand 
 rivers rushing from the hills, a thousand tovms glittering on the 
 plains, crowded with ten millions of human beings, blessed with 
 a severer but a healthier climate, dividing the vaunt of being the 
 best cultivated land in Europe only with England and Holland, 
 exhibits all the vigour of an eternal youth." 
 
 Mariotti's Italy. 
 
 superga — chivasso — m ahquises of montferrato — vaauieras 
 crusading song — vercelli — the legate — the tea-ket- 
 TLE— RANZA— THE KNITTER OF LOMELLINO— ALBERGO DE' TRE 
 Rife — NOVARA — CHURCHES — IL MORO — COSTUME — CANAL. 
 
 I LEFT Turin much impressed with its beauties, 
 and admiring to the last the imposing avenues 
 which render every approach to the city fine. The 
 Superga looks proudly over the extended plains, 
 and towards the encircling mountains. This monu- 
 ment was erected to the Virgin by Vittorio Amadeo, 
 in gratitude for the success of his arms against the 
 invading French in 1706. It is a magnificent 
 object in the landscape, and nobly crowns the 
 
CHIVASSO. 83 
 
 exalted height, where it stands supreme between the 
 Alps and Apennines. 
 
 The roads are excellent and perfectly flat, nor is 
 there any beauty to rouse the traveller for many 
 miles. We passed through several slovenly looking 
 towns, where high brick towers and portions of for- 
 tified walls tell of former consequence and ancient 
 warfare. We changed horses at Brandizzo, as the 
 pilgrims of old time did when on their way to the 
 Holy city. 
 
 Chivasso is a large but insignificant town, though 
 once of much consequence, and considered the 
 key of Piedmont. The powerful family of Mont- 
 ferrato made this one of their places of residence, 
 and, for several ages, bore sway over the surround- 
 ing district. As we drove rapidly through it, above 
 the market place, I observed a huge red brick 
 tower, of great antiquity, rearing its turrets far into 
 the blue sky. On its summit waved the branches 
 of several large trees which have there taken root, 
 and flourish in that exalted position. They nod 
 over the town like the plumes of the crusaders on 
 their helmets, and recall strange memories of the 
 time when this battered ruin stood proudly forth, 
 the highest of its fellows of the castle of 
 Montferrato.* 
 
 * William of Montferrato (1292) had extended his sway nearly- 
 over the whole of Piedmont, and was at length taken prisoner by 
 his subjects of Tortona and Alexandria, and shut up in an iron 
 cage nor could his near relationship to the Greek Emperor and 
 
 G 2 
 
84 MARQUISES OF MONTFERRATO. 
 
 In this now neglected spot, wliich the careless 
 traveller, who does not trouble himself with old 
 recollections, and does not care to be disturbed by 
 them, hurries through, was once held the splendid 
 court of the Marquises of Montferrato, powerful 
 tyrants of the country, whose castle turrets inspired 
 terror in the neighbourhood. At Chivasso, and at 
 Casale, they alternately resided ; and when not 
 busy in making warlike outbreaks and chastising 
 those who had offended them, they passed their time 
 in listening to the effusions of the troubadour poets, 
 whom their munificence attracted around them. 
 
 Here the famous Rambaud de Vaquieras some- 
 times sang his lays when he had attached himself 
 to the service of Bonifacio III., Marquis of Mont- 
 ferrato, who led, with Baldwin and Dandolo, the 
 fourth crusade, and who became sovereign of 
 Thessalonica. Vaquieras was made a knight by his 
 patron, for with his sword he was as distinguished 
 as with his lute : and the Marquis, unlike the proud 
 Alphonso, who punished the daring love of Tasso, 
 was gratified by the poet's attachment to his sister, 
 the beautiful Beatrice, with whom and her lover he 
 reconciled a love quarrel, which had threatened to 
 deprive him of the society of his friend and minstrel. 
 This fair lady was called in the poet's verses his 
 
 the king of Castile avail him against the fury of the fierce repub- 
 licans, who dragged him from town to town, exhibiting him like 
 a wild beast. His sufferings were at length closed in a dungeon, 
 where he had lingered two years. — See Maeiotti's Italy. 
 
CRUSADING SONG. 85 
 
 Bel Cavalier, because he had seen her in sport 
 managing a sword with great grace. 
 
 His lays excited the valiant Marquis to the expe- 
 ditions in the Holy Land, by which he gained so 
 much renown ; nor was the poet forgotten in his con- 
 quests, for he gave him ' islands,' and districts to 
 govern, even such as the hero of La Mancha pro- 
 mised his faithful squire. Many such songs as the 
 following echoed through those towers of which I 
 obtained a passing glance. 
 
 CRUSADING SONG. 
 
 God deliglits the good to raise. 
 
 And to Montferrato gave 
 Fame beyond the minstrel's praise — 
 
 He- the highest of the brave. 
 
 France, Champagne — all Europe calls - 
 
 " Drawn is Montferrato' s sword ! 
 Hie we to the Holy walls. 
 
 To the rescue of the Lord ! 
 
 " Montferrat' has vassals bold, 
 Heaps of treasure and of gold. 
 All his stores in aid are thrown, 
 For the cause of God alone." 
 
 He who made the skies above. 
 
 He who formed the land and sea, 
 "Wills that we should, for his love. 
 
 Go where all the brave should be. 
 
 Raise thy warlike voice Champagne -- 
 
 * Flanders !' let Count Baldwin cry — 
 Sound the battle-shout amain, 
 
 Montferrat' — and victory ! 
 
86 DORA BALTEA. 
 
 The feithful troubadour, when he became master 
 of rich possessions in Greece, sent back liis tender 
 thoughts of regret to these turrets where dwelt the 
 lady of his love. 
 
 TO MY BEL CAVALIER. 
 
 Glory, conquest, power and gain — 
 
 All the vain world seeks— is mine. 
 Yet my heart shrinks back in pain. 
 
 And for ever I repine. 
 What avail my riches now — 
 Absent from that lovely brow ! 
 
 I was richer far, and blest 
 
 In those transient moments flown, 
 When, the slave of love confest, 
 
 I could boast thy love my own : 
 Then I knew no joy but one. 
 Living in thy sight alone. 
 
 What to me are lands and towers. 
 
 Triumph's shouts and notes of glee. 
 Since I dwell not in thy bowers. 
 
 And have all — bereft of thee ! 
 Vain the glory of my lot — 
 All is void where thou art not ! 
 
 When the impetuous Dora Baltea is crossed, the 
 hitherto flat country undulates a little,, and a range 
 of snow-covered Alps comes proudly into view ; 
 light feathery clouds were lying in the valleys, and 
 filling up the gorges of the hills with their transpa- 
 rent forms, which rose gently upwards towards the 
 
THE LEGATE. 87 
 
 snowy summits, threatening to return in rain before 
 long. The sun, however, was brilliant, and the air 
 balmy, as we entered the ancient territory of Lom- 
 bardy, and rested at Vercelli. 
 
 I was struck as we approached the town, with the 
 numerous small turret towers which surmount St. 
 Andrea, one of the principal churches ; it is very 
 grand, and there is much beauty of detail in the 
 fine circular arches of the fagade, in the cloisters and 
 the ranges of grey and white marble columns which 
 adorn the interior. This church was built by Car- 
 dinal Guala, who played a conspicuous part in the 
 wars of King John of England and his barons, at 
 which time he was the Pope's Legate ; he is the pre- 
 late who is represented by Shakespeare as urging on 
 the quarrel between France and England, and ex- 
 claiming to Louis of France ; 
 
 " All form is formless, order orderless. 
 Save what is opposite to England's love. 
 Therefore to arms ! he champion of our church. 
 Or let the Church, our mother, breathe her curse, 
 A mother's curse on her revolting son." 
 
 There is a Norman character about the round 
 doors and pointed arcades which I at once recog- 
 nized and hailed with a feeling of affection, as if one 
 of the venerable abbey churches of Caen had sud- 
 denly appeared before me : but the square turrets 
 which surmount the whole are quite unique and 
 more remarkable than admirable in my opinion : as 
 well as the diapered tiles of the roof, which offended 
 
88 THE TEA-KETTLE. 
 
 my eye, and which reminded me of the same at 
 Dijon, the floor-cloth effect of which is always so 
 distressing, when observed on the fine but dilapidated 
 churches there. 
 
 The Duomo of Vereelli is much less striking than 
 the church of St. Andrea, but is lofty and majestic, 
 filled with fine pillars of a rich coloured marble, and 
 chapels adorned with more than usual taste, the 
 altars and shrines exhibiting more grey and black 
 marble than gilding and artificial flowers. 
 
 Our breakfast apparatus, at the large rambling 
 inn of the Leone d'Oro, entertained me exceedingly. 
 The waiters seemed very proud of understanding 
 the mysteries of tea making, and, for kettle, brought 
 and placed on a table near the long board where we 
 sat, an enormous brass cauldron seated on a fiery 
 br aster 0, in whose depths the water boiled and 
 bubbled in a manner to leave no doubt of its capa- 
 bilities ; main force was requisite to move this 
 Vesuvius of tea-kettles when water was wanted, 
 and our zealous attendant returned more than once 
 to our assistance on the occasion, proud of his skill 
 and of the commendations bestowed on its results. 
 
 Vereelli was the birth-place of an eccentric genius, 
 who played a conspicuous part in the commotions of 
 his country, during the period when -Europe was 
 torn by the contentions between Democrat and Aris- 
 tocrat, as fatal watch- words as those of Guelf and 
 Gibeline. 
 
 Ranza, the satirist, author of " The Catechism 
 
RANZA. 89 
 
 of Tyrants," was born and studied here, and some of 
 his family are said still to reside in the town. His 
 wit, talent and learning, and the readiness with 
 which he caught at all that could render his poli- 
 tical opponents ridiculous, made him the darling of 
 his party. He attacked all ranks and classes, gover- 
 nors, priests, and people ; now turning the arrows of 
 his wit against the abuses of one, now of another, 
 sparing none, and bitterly castigating every abuse 
 which came under his observation. It became at 
 length expected that Ranza would speak, and speak 
 to the purpose, on all occasions ; and so accustomed 
 were both sides to his severities, that his violent truths 
 were heard without exciting the anger they at first 
 inspired, for it was found that imprisonment and 
 persecutions only rendered the sharpness of his satire 
 more keen. 
 
 Day after day, pamphlets, eagerly looked for, 
 appeared, and he himself was accustomed to stick his 
 placards, announcing them, on the walls of Turin, 
 while the amused crowd flocked in a torrent to catch 
 a glimpse of the daring jester who shrunk not to 
 tilt at all he met. His pasquinades were relished by 
 the million, and those who winced beneath his biting 
 reproof were obliged to endure it as they might. 
 " It is only Ranza" became a common expression, 
 and however severe or seditious, Ranza's wit passed. 
 
 One day he appeared in the great square at Turin, 
 and kindling a large fire, he fed the flames with the 
 writings of a friar to whom he was inimical, amidst 
 
90 RANZA. 
 
 the shouts and applause of the multitude. When 
 he died his funeral was attended witli extraordinary 
 pomp and ceremony, and followed by a great con- 
 course of his admirers : when the cortege reached 
 the gate Madarna, through which funerals are not 
 allowed to pass except on occasions of great solem- 
 nity, an attempt was made to resist the body passing, 
 but the well known cry of ''it is only Ranza" ob- 
 tained egress for it at once. 
 
 This was at the time when Napoleon was amusing 
 the Piedmontese with his ambiguous treaties with 
 Charles Emanuel, and while he kept both prince 
 and people in uncertainty as to his real motives. 
 
 Vercelli witnessed the march of the successful 
 hero's troops on their way to Milan, and had reason 
 to remember their passage. Our route lay on the 
 track of Napoleon's army, and it was not a little 
 startling to reflect that this now quiet smiling scene 
 once swarmed with a rude soldiery, intent on mischief 
 and conquest, and what is called glory, whose loud 
 voices deafened the hoarse murmurs of the Dora, the 
 Sesia, and the Tecino, to which we now listened 
 amongst their solitary rocks. 
 
 Soon after leaving Vercelli, we crossed a bridge 
 of boats over the Sesia : the country is pleasing ; 
 fine walnut trees adorn the corn fields, and good- 
 looking chateaux here and there give a cheerfulness 
 to the scenes. 
 
 At a ruined town with a musical name, Lomellino, 
 I first met with the beautiful head-dress of which I 
 
THE KNITTER OF LOMELLINO. 91 
 
 had often seen representations, and heard descriptions. 
 Two peasant women were sitting at a dirty hut on 
 a stone bench, knitting in the sun, and talking to 
 the stable people who were preparing our horses : both 
 were striking in their appearance, and I could not 
 sufficiently admire their madonna-like heads, as they 
 reclined carelessly and languidly against the ruined 
 wall of their domicile. One of them, who was in 
 a dark dress, wore over her shining black hair a 
 scarlet handkerchief, with a white border, kept out 
 by concealed pins, which gave it a square form. The 
 other, who had fine commanding features and mag- 
 nificent eyes, with long black lashes, wore a halo 
 round her plaited dark hair of those long silver pins 
 terminated by large round balls, which are disposed 
 so as to form a sort of nimbus to the head of the 
 pretty saint who thus adorns herself. This elegant 
 head-dress contrasted singularly with the poverty of 
 the wearer's domicile, and the slovenliness of the rest 
 of her dress, which was however made up of colours 
 just such as a painter would choose : the stained 
 stone of the back ground harmonized well, and the 
 bright blue sky and clearly defined shadows round, 
 lying prone in the rich yellow sun, all combined to 
 make a charming study of the graceful knitter of 
 Lomellino. 
 
 Monte Rosa had hidden his head in gathering 
 clouds, and as we advanced on our way through the 
 rice grounds the aspect of the sky became more and 
 more threatening. Livid gleams burst over the vast 
 
92 ALBERGO DEI TRE RE. 
 
 irrigated fields, where the weeders were busy amongst 
 the golden-green rice, and presently loud growling 
 thunder echoed amongst the distant Alps, whose 
 summits were concealed in increasing mist. The 
 hitherto sauntering pace of the postillion was sud- 
 denly changed into a gallop, as the big rain came 
 thick and violent, and the sky grew every instant 
 darker and more portentous. At length the deluge 
 descended without mercy : nothing could resist its 
 fury, and we drove rapidly into the stony street of 
 Novara, with a stream of water running out at both 
 doors of the carriage, for the flood had entered at 
 every coign of vantage, and we were almost drenched 
 in a few moments. 
 
 A fine antique palazzo, now the Albergo de' 
 Tre Re, received us, and the storm raged on with- 
 out intermission for several hours in all the ungo- 
 verned fury of a tempest in the neighbourhood of 
 the Alps. 
 
 Other travellers, arrested as we had been, came 
 thundering into the inn yard, in diligences and post 
 carriages, glad to find shelter from the overwhelming 
 torrents of rain, and to escape the savage glee of the 
 demons of the storm : for several hours the thunder 
 never ceased for an instant moaning and roaring 
 over the town, and dying off in low echoes at a dis- 
 tance, and continued flashes of lightning illumined 
 the pretty arcades of the picturesque Albergo with 
 unnatural day. 
 
 This was the first of the many storms I afterwards 
 
NOVARA. 93 
 
 witnessed in these regions, and whose violent beau- 
 ties I so much enjoyed. 
 
 Our spacious apartments at the inn at Novara, 
 had still the remains of much former brilliancy of 
 painted ceilings and walls : the bedsteads were of 
 cast iron, beautifully wrought, a pleasing improve- 
 ment on wooden ones, and infinitely more likely to 
 be clean and inoffensive. Round the inner court of 
 the house ran an elegant richly carved stone balcony, 
 the arches of the doors and windows, and the pillars 
 which supported the stories, all were graceful and in 
 refined taste, though considerably injured by time and 
 change. No doubt this was once a handsome palace. 
 
 We had time in the morning to visit the Duomo of 
 Novara, a lofty and handsome cathedral of early 
 Lombard architecture. The fine pillars were dis- 
 figured by coverings of red cloth half way up: there 
 is here some perfect tessellated pavement black and 
 white, the work of Byzantine artists, but the bold pat- 
 terns are Roman, and the figures introduced in the 
 medallions are very singular bird-like creatures, with 
 griffin claws, holding sprays in their beaks, storks 
 and grotesque animals fill the compartments. That 
 part of this remarkable pavement near the entrance 
 is a good deal worn, and the colour of the black 
 marble has become nearly grey with age and friction. 
 There is one very interesting and curious chapel or 
 baptistery, which presents all the appearance of a 
 pagan temple : it is circular and supported by an- 
 tique pillars : opposite the door of entrance, rather 
 
94 CHURCHES. 
 
 sunk in the floor, stands a circular altar or tomb, 
 liollow in the centre, and now used as a font. It is 
 very remaj'kable and curious, as is the whole edifice, 
 the walls of which, between the ancient columns, are 
 covered with nearly effaced figures by Gaudenzio 
 Ferrari, to which I had too little leisure to do justice 
 by examining. On the walls of a cloister of the 
 cathedral are placed numerous inscribed stones and 
 carved monumental relics, in the same manner as 
 those in the entrance of the Bibliotheque Royale at 
 Paris. This is perhaps a safe way of preserving 
 them, but they lose all their dignity by being thus 
 plastered up with brick and mortar, pell-mell, one 
 with the other, without connexion. 
 
 The church of St. Gaudenzio is spacious, and pro- 
 duces a noble effect, even though much of the de- 
 coration is stucco imitating Oriental breccia : there 
 is however some delicate pink and white marble on 
 the walls and altars. The mosaic pavement, similar 
 to that in the cathedral, is well preserved and fine, 
 and the works of Gaudenzio Ferrari which adorn the 
 chapels are said to be of the highest order. The 
 light was too dim to allow me to see their merits, 
 and I strained my eyes in vain to catch the beauties 
 of a celebrated picture in compartments over the 
 high altar, some few figures of which^ being more 
 enlightened than others, gave me a grand idea of 
 the whole. 
 
 I had in a former journey seen at Loches the dun- 
 geon of the ill-fated Ludovico Sforza, called II Moro, 
 
THE KEY OF THE MILANESE. 95 
 
 had looked through the double bars of his prison, and 
 endeavoured to trace the drawings which his despair- 
 ing hand had scrawled upon the walls; and atNovara 
 I had perhaps unconsciously lodged in his palace, for 
 it was here, by Swiss treachery, he was betrayed into 
 the hands of the French, and after being dragged 
 from prison to prison, expired in that horrible con- 
 finement, the same where Cardinal Balue had lin- 
 gered, within a short distance of the chamber where 
 the fine monument of the beautiful Agnes Sorel still 
 delights the eye with its lambs and angels I 
 
 Novara was often the scene of contention in the 
 wars between France and Italy. There Louis of 
 Orleans, the husband of Valentina of Milan, under- 
 went a terrible siege, which Brantome calls " Le 
 souffreteux siege de Navarra ou il (Louis) mangea 
 jusques aux chats et aux rats ;" and here the Swiss 
 gained a great victory over the French when fighting 
 for the Emperor Maximilian, to revenge which 
 Francis 1st resolved again to invade Italy. 
 
 To regain Novara was a main object with the sol- 
 diers of Francis Ist's army, who considered them- 
 selves disgraced by its loss. It was therefore a great 
 triumph when, after their successful return to Italy 
 by Piedmont, they found themselves again masters 
 of this disputed town, the key of the Milanese. 
 
 There are remains of the Spanish dominion 
 in Novara in the Eastern looking arches and pillars, 
 of which some are seen in the streets : one range 
 struck me particularly by the beautifully involved 
 
96 COSTUME. 
 
 pointed lines of its ornaments, and the lotus shape 
 of its capitals. The boulevards are fine, with a splen- 
 did view of the snowy mountains from one of their 
 terraces : whole streets of new buildings are replacing 
 the old, and if the projects of building are comple- 
 ted, the town will be a handsome one in a few years. 
 
 The weather continued cloudy and our view of 
 the snowy range was by no means clear, as we drove 
 out of Novara along a flat road, without other inter- 
 est than that it is bordered by fertile fields of lupins 
 and corn, and that the vines depend from high trel- 
 lices in graceful wreaths in every direction. We 
 came shortly, however, to a long tract of desolate 
 heath, beyond which the snowy heights were glitter- 
 ing in the sun, though their bases were involved in 
 cloud and gloom. A high levee conducts across the 
 marshy land towards the Tecino, and here we crossed 
 the magnificent straight bridge of eleven arches, 
 which ushers the traveller into Austrian Lombardy, 
 and Piedmont is left behind. 
 
 The dress of the female peasants which I saw on the 
 road was only remarkable as to the head-dress, appa- 
 rently the sole vestige left of national costume. Two 
 long pins confine the hair, which is always luxuriant, 
 and these are here terminated by knobs as large as 
 a goose's egg, by no means so graceful as the smaller 
 ones atLomellino : sometimes the head is covered with 
 a handkerchief of brilliant colours, which held out by 
 these pins, forms a not inelegant arrangement, the em- 
 broidered corners hanging down on the shoulders with 
 
€ANAL. 97 
 
 much grace : but in general the heads which they 
 decorate were not pretty, and the children at the 
 miserable cottage doors were the dirtiest, most squa- 
 lid-looking little creatures I ever saw. The windows 
 of most of the houses in the villages are defended 
 from the sun by shutters covered with thatch or 
 boughs, which have a characteristic effect, and, when 
 the leaves are fresh, seems cool and pleasant. 
 
 The grand canal which connects the Tecino and 
 the Po was now on our route : it is said to be the 
 earliest in Europe, and was begun in the twelfth 
 century. Not an inequality relieved the monotony 
 of the straight road through Indian corn-fields, bor- 
 dered by mulberry trees denuded of their leaves and 
 holding up their desolate arms as if to excite pity. 
 Orchard after orchard succeeded, and vineyard after 
 vineyard, and the beautiful city of Milan beckoned 
 us forward. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 MILAN — THE DUOMO — THE TWO CAPITALS OP THE EMPIRE — 
 BEAUTIES — COUSO — LAUNCE AND HIS DOG — TABLE d'HOTE 
 — BREAD — SANTA MARIA DELLE GRAZIE — THE CENA — XL 
 MORO— THE SFOaZA— THE VISCONTI— VALENTINA OE MILAN — 
 CHARLES OP ORLEANS — LORENZO DE' MEDICI — LOUIS 12TH. 
 
 We arrived at Milan about the middle of the day, 
 and took up our quarters at the hotel de Gran' Bre. 
 tagna, where from our pretty balcony covered with 
 cushions and sheltered by striped drapery adorned 
 with embroidery, we could reconnoitre the opposite 
 mansions. Here, as at Turin, but even in greater 
 perfection, the paving of the streets is remarkable, 
 the manner in which the granite lines cross and re- 
 cross each other is quite admirable, and the extreme 
 cleanliness of the neat streets puts to shame both 
 Paris and London. Indeed it is more agreeable to 
 walk in the streets of Milan than in any city 1 know ; 
 not that one is altogether secure, for the foot pave- 
 ment is not raised above the road, but the ranges of 
 houses and shops, all adorned with the most beautiful 
 balconies and graceful awnings, are so extremely at- 
 tractive; and though most of the streets are narrow, all 
 are clean. The prevailing colour of the draperies I so 
 much admire is a rich orange- tawny striped, or em- 
 broidered in rich purple in some elegant pattern ; 
 others are of green, lilac, blue or yellow, with fringes 
 
THE DUOMO. 99 
 
 and vandycks and ornaments of some suitable tint, 
 and these projecting from every window along a 
 street, form the prettiest vistas imaginable : round 
 the square of the Duomo they extend their rainbow 
 hues in great beauty, as if to enhance the brilliancy of 
 the dazzling fairy edifice at whose feet they present 
 their many tinted pennons. 
 
 The Duomo itself! — wondrous is its effect on the 
 beholder, who stands before it day after day in fresh 
 admiration and astonishment at its mazes of magni- 
 ficence, and it must be acknowledged generally re- 
 proaches himself for not having done this beautiful 
 creation of the genius of ages, entire justice at the 
 first glance. 
 
 The truth is, that like some of the restorations in 
 the beautiful gothic churches in France, the incon- 
 gruous additions to the facade of the Duomo wound 
 the eye and distress the mind. What business have 
 those clumsy ten, those unsightly doors and windows 
 with blunted heads, in the midst of the graceful three, 
 whose tracery seems worked by the fingers of fairies ? 
 Why should such deformities exist side by side 
 with those exquisite canopies : that elaborate taber- 
 nacle work : those fretted pinnacles and lace- work 
 borders ? 
 
 As the building rises it seems to have left all of 
 earth beneath, for its original character is only inter- 
 fered with below, next to the red granite steps which 
 lead to the chief entrance. 
 
 The form of the facade also rather disappoints the 
 
 H 2 
 
100 THE TWO CAPITALS OF THE EMPIRE. 
 
 eye ; the height of the centre is grand and beautiful, 
 but the sides of the angle slope so suddenly, and run 
 down so near the ground, that the idea is involun- 
 tarily suggested of the long gable end of a Swiss 
 cottage rather than the front of a majestic cathedral. 
 I could not but wish that two large and lofty towers, 
 as light as the rest, stood sentinels at the side to sup- 
 port the centre, arresting the angle about half-way 
 and yet preserving the peculiar character which I 
 found is common to the antient churches in this part 
 of Italy, though no where is the favourite form car- 
 ried to such an extreme as at Milan. This defect, 
 for such I cannot help considering it, is chargeable 
 on modern artists, who have nevertheless most beau- 
 tifully followed the antique in the three charming 
 windows which redeem the intruding Roman pro- 
 jections of Pelligrini, an apology for whose executed 
 designs is inserted in one of the buttresses, but as 
 this remorseful notice is not observed by the gazer, 
 he must continue still to stand before the facade, if 
 not " for ever silent," yet " for ever sad," and still 
 lamenting that a work so perfect, in many respects, 
 should, like the face of the sun, be obscured by spots. 
 As long as the traveller's good fortune permits him 
 to remain at Milan, not a day will pass without his 
 discovering new charms in the gorgeous Duomo, 
 the cherished favourite of so many monarchs in so 
 many ages, from the magnificent Visconti to the all- 
 conquering Emperor, who erected the grand gate- 
 way of Milan, as a pendant to that of his other capi- 
 
BEAUTY OF MILAN. 101 
 
 tal of subjected Europe in Paris, intending in his 
 gigantic thought to hew a straight road over Alps, 
 and across rivers, from one end to the other of his 
 dominions. 
 
 No wonder Napoleon's ambition was to connect the 
 two cities, for Paris, in his day, was not so grand as it 
 now stands, preeminent amongst the heads of nations, 
 and beautiful Milan must have indeed delighted his 
 southern imagination. Milan, like Paris, it is true 
 has greatly improved within the last twenty years, 
 and is certainly one of the most attractive of capitals. 
 The surrounding boulevards are strikingly fine, per- 
 haps more so than can any where be met with, the 
 corsos and palaces are magnificent, and the churches 
 interesting in the extreme. 
 
 Along the noble streets, shaded with carved bal- 
 conies and graceful draperies, trip pretty women 
 in Spanish mantillas or light black lace or silk veils 
 over their shining hair : all provided with a fan to 
 protect their faces as they cross the piazzas, and it 
 struck me that the men at Milan and in Lombardy 
 in general, were a finer race than elsewhere. Cour- 
 tesy is universal, and though the Milanese dialect is 
 said to be harsh and unmusical to southern ears> to 
 mine the language even of the lower orders sounded 
 melodiously. 
 
 The shops are by no means handsome : almost all 
 are small and insignificant, and the dilierent trades 
 have quarters appropriated to them : but the ranges 
 of palaces in the corsei are very splendid, and those 
 
102 C0R80. 
 
 throughout the whole extent of the Corso del Porta 
 Orientale are so extensive and grand, that to an un- 
 accustomed eye there seems no end of their splen- 
 dours. The fashionable drive at Milan is along this 
 fine street and for some distance following the charm- 
 ing boulevards in this quarter, from whence the 
 whole city appears as if enclosed in bowers and gar- 
 dens : nothing seems close or confined throughout ; 
 all is verdure, and shade, and space, and brilliancy. 
 A continual movement and cheerfulness exists, which 
 struck me as remarkable ; what the city may be 
 when all the gay crowd have sought their villas on 
 the Lakes I know not, but at the moment I saw 
 Milan, it was full of bustle and gaiety, and nothing 
 could be pleasanter than an evening drive on the 
 Corso, terminated by a pause to take ices before the 
 white pinnacles of the Duomo. 
 
 The beautiful Corso is a street worthy to have 
 been the scene of the serenade of Sir Thurio before 
 the Duke's Palace, where the false Proteus and the 
 love-sick Julia are near each other without knowing 
 it ; and where, from her window, Silvia plans with 
 Sir Eglamour to fly to Valentine at Mantua. 
 
 It was impossible not to see Launce and his dog, 
 as at Verona, in many a passer by, and the lovers 
 and their mistresses, creations of the Poet, amongst 
 the gay cortege that crowded the street. 
 
 I did not, I confess, recognize the " ale house" 
 where Launce and his friend Speed agree to adjourn 
 to talk over home news, and where they assure 
 
TABLE d'hote. 103 
 
 each other of " five thousand welcomes/' for one 
 " shot of five pence, ' but there would be no difficulty 
 in identifying the palaces. 
 
 At the table d'hote of the Hotel at which I stayed 
 we found numerous English, German, and American 
 guests : one elderly Italian gentleman had devoted 
 himself to a shy Englishman, who appeared anxious 
 to improve his own knowledge of the beautiful lan- 
 guage of his companion : but probably the same 
 view actuated the latter, for he persisted in replying 
 to every question in English. One remark he made 
 apropos to a dish at table, entertained me, — " You 
 English," said he, '' must always feel interested about 
 sheep and mutton, for you depend greatly on wool: 
 your Chancellor, you know, sits upon a wool-sack 
 to shew the importance you attach to it." 
 
 The English amateur of wool now resolutely chan- 
 ged the conversation to an eulogium on home, in- 
 toning the lines quoted by Lady Morgan, and some- 
 what familiar to most wanderers, beginning " Casa 
 mia," in an accent which must have rendered them 
 almost unintelligible to his friend, who however, 
 after a time, caught their meaning, and subjoined in 
 English, of similar quality : " Ah yes— you have got 
 your song of ' Sweet Home,' just as appropriate." 
 He then with much gesticulation went on to favour 
 his mortified pupil with his version of the popular 
 song, accompanying the words sotto voce with an 
 improvised air. 
 
 Several of the guests at table were perseveringly 
 
104 BREAD. 
 
 talking Murray^ and an English family, consisting 
 of a father, mother, and six daughters, from five to 
 fifteen, were recounting the adventures they had met 
 with, d uring a sojourn of three years in Italy. Taken 
 in general, however, it appeared that there had been 
 fewer travellers on the Continent this year than usual, 
 owing to the coldness of the spring, and in Switzer- 
 land it was rare, we afterwards found, to meet with 
 any adventurous enough to dare the perils of repub- 
 lican discontent. 
 
 The profusion of ice handed round at dinner to 
 cool the water, announced the habits of a southern 
 climate agreeably, and the weather at this time ren- 
 dered such a luxury peculiarly grateful. Both at 
 Milan, and at every other Italian town I visited, I 
 observed that the style of living is equal, and in some 
 respects superior to that of Paris, and far beyond 
 that in the provincial towns of France. The bread 
 is admirable, approaching the best in England, and 
 better than that of Spain, which it resembles, but is 
 closer though as white, it is even superior in some 
 places to the Swiss bread, of which the natives of 
 the Cantons are so justly proud. 
 
 Although every church in Milan is full of interest 
 and teeming with beauties both of painting and 
 sculpture, yet that which must absorb all attention 
 for a time, is Santa Maria delle Grazie. I had been 
 struck with the peculiar exterior form of this church 
 on first arriving at Milan : its ornaments of moulded 
 brick and terra-cotta were unlike anything I had be- 
 
SANTA MARIA DELLE GRAZIE. 105 
 
 fore seen, and appeared to me singular and admirable. 
 The fine cupola is grand and imposing, and the 
 whole church is curious and remarkable ; but I could 
 not fix my attention on the valuable frescoes of 
 Gaudenzio Ferrari, nor enter into the merits of the 
 works of other great artists, dimly visible in a gloomy 
 light, so anxious was I to arrive at the refectory 
 where the greatest marvel of art, the immortal Cena- 
 colo of Leonardo da Vinci is still fading from the 
 sustaining walls. 
 
 So delicate, so shadowy, so fragile appears this 
 vision of a picture, that one is awed on entering the 
 silent hall which contains it, and cannot help fearing 
 that, like a faint rainbow in the clouds, it will disap- 
 pear from sight while the eye is yet seeking to trace 
 its evanescent forms. I was fortunately alone in the 
 large apartment, at the end of which the divine 
 company look through the veil of time and destruc- 
 tion from their throne. 
 
 I placed myself on a chair in the centre of the 
 room, and fixing my gaze attentively on the marvel- 
 lous group, waited patiently till its realities should 
 become apparent. At first all is indistinct, except 
 the general drawing of the groups, the architecture, 
 and the faint sky beyond, but in a short time the eye 
 gets accustomed to the effort of deciphering, and at 
 length all appears sufficiently intelligible. 
 
 One head, one face, one attitude, one expression 
 then comes forcibly upon the sight and sinks deeply 
 into the mind till every thought and feeling is ab- 
 
106 THE CENA. 
 
 sorbed in wonder at the power which could represent 
 so sublime a figure in so sublime a manner. Little 
 less than inspiration seems requisite to have produced 
 such a result as the great painter's dreams and aspi- 
 rations at last achieved. I had heard and read all 
 that has been said on the subject of this picture, but 
 when I found myself before it, I recollected nothing, 
 I was aware of nothing but the deep feeling of en- 
 grossing admiration which took entire possession of 
 my mind. 
 
 I cannot believe that any attempted restoration, 
 any retouching or cleaning or scraping can have ma- 
 terially injured this magnificently beautiful head : 
 whatever may have been done to it, no trace remains 
 but of the original idea ; it is true, it is only a shadow 
 gleaming through the cloud of decay ; there are no 
 vivid colours, no marked features, no striking cha- 
 racter ; all is calm, and cold, and pale, and even : 
 the faintest tints in the sky as the last gleam of sun- 
 set fade into transparent grey, are all that pourtray 
 that heavenly countenance, full of benevolence, ten- 
 derness, pity and sorrow : the latter feeling is per- 
 haps the most vividly expressed, but so delicate is 
 the combination, that it is hardly possible not to ima- 
 gine that a momentary change comes over the face 
 as one gazes, and that the perfect features are now 
 more tender, now more pitying, now more full of 
 regret for the incorrigible wickedness and ingratitude 
 of man. 
 
 In the glorious serenity of that countenance is 
 
THE CENA. 107 
 
 beheld the history of the pardoned Magdalen, the 
 reproof of the self-sufficient Pharisee ; there may be 
 read, as in a scroll, lessons of charity and peace so 
 ill followed, though so often cited by erring men, 
 who, while they respect the gentle words of that 
 divine tongue, allow the spirit to evaporate. There 
 are patience, and forbearance, and endurance — there 
 are knowledge, and power, and prescience — there 
 is deep grief for treachery and crime, and, above all, 
 there is pity and forgiveness. I should have 
 thought it impossible that any picture could convey 
 such wondrous meaning, and could express so start- 
 ling a history, but it is no exaggeration to say that 
 such is its effect. No one can gaze on it without 
 awe and tears ; no one, having once seen it, can 
 forget the strong impression that inspired work 
 created — that face will haunt the memory for ever, 
 and the recollection of it will inspire consolation 
 and hope. 
 
 If all the pictures in Catholic churches were 
 painted in so miraculous a manner, one might 
 excuse enthusiasts for believing that there was more 
 in them than mere human art, but I never beheld a 
 head that produced an equal admiration in my 
 mind ; all other pictures seem of earth, but this of 
 heaven itself. 
 
 Even the very humble, unadorned hall, on the wall 
 of which it is seen, is pleasing : such a work requires 
 no adjunct, should have no adornment. The picture 
 is defended by a wooden gallery, which is approached 
 
108 THE CENA, 
 
 by a ladder : the curious can therefore see it 
 closely, but the effect is then almost lost. Here and 
 there partial daubings can be detected in the minor 
 figures, but I think most of the heads have been 
 respected. One circumstance struck me, namely, 
 that no copy or print I have ever seen gives me so 
 much as an idea of the original. Most of these 
 make the long board and white table cloth con- 
 epicuous, and this had always distressed my eye, 
 and caused me to question the great artist's judg 
 ment, if such were really the case. Instead of this, 
 you may look for some minutes at the picture before 
 you observe these minor details, conspicuous as they 
 might naturally be from filling up the front of the 
 piece. The chief personage in the group attracts 
 the attention at once, and when the eye can quit 
 that object it takes in the other heads in succession, 
 and at the last, in observing the ensemble, you 
 become aware that there is a table covered with a 
 white cloth, over which a grey shadow is thrown, 
 which keeps it completely under, but the transparent 
 white, thus shaded, serves to render more etherial 
 the character of the scene. 
 
 It is thus that I was impressed while I looked on 
 this immortal work of art, (would it were so indeed !) 
 and I really believe that I gained nothing from 
 enthusiasm; for, surprised into oblivion, I had so 
 entirely forgotten all I had ever heard of its beauties, 
 that it burst upon me as a thing unknown before : 
 I do not imagine either that its indistinct appearance 
 
THE CENA. 109 
 
 caused me to fill up defective portions with 
 imaginary beauties ; but I believe that I saw the 
 picture as it was, and as Leonardo intended it should 
 appear. I can even credit the assertion that he 
 never entirely completed the glorious head of the 
 Saviour, not having reached his own ideas of the 
 required sublimity, but I think he went as far as 
 mortal pencil could, and has nearly arrived at the 
 acme of perfection and truth. 
 
 I do not feel the least inclined to doubt the truth 
 of the tale which represents Napoleon sitting on the 
 ground before this picture, and writing in his 
 pocket book, which he placed on his knee, an order 
 for the removal of the military from the place where 
 the Cenacolo made the walls holy. 
 
 The paint is still scaling off in some parts of the 
 picture, but the faces are in general clear : aas the 
 monks cut a door through the wall, no doubt much 
 damage was done which could not be repaired ; but 
 I am inclined to hope that the medium employed 
 by Leonardo for the faces was not the same as that 
 he used for the draperies, and that, although these 
 may be effaced, the chief beauties of his picture 
 may remain. If the whole has really been repainted 
 the modern colours must have faded or scaled off, 
 while the original imperishable shadow still stains 
 the favoured wall, and defies the efforts of ignorance 
 and presumption. 
 
 Santa Maria delle Grazie was begun in 1464, but 
 
110 IL MORO. 
 
 not completed till thirty years afterwards. Ludovico 
 Sforza, called il Moro, and his wife Beatrice were 
 liberal contributors to its revenues. Her device 
 was a sieve held by a hand on either side, and the 
 motto, ** Ti oi mi, e mi d, ti :" this unpoetical emblem 
 was embroidered on some splendid hangings with 
 which she adorned the high altar. These and her 
 tomb have long since disappeared, together with all 
 the glories of the last Sforza, which ended in the 
 dungeons of Loches. 
 
 Sad were the contrasts he experienced between the 
 splendours of his ducal reign, his flight, his disguises, 
 his capture and the sad journey to his prison home, 
 when, it is recorded, many of his subjects whom he 
 had injured, followed the train of his exulting 
 enemies, shouting and reviling him at whose 
 frown they once trembled. His hair is said to 
 have turned grey in a single night " with sudden 
 fears." 
 
 The Sforza and the Visconti governed Milan for 
 two centuries, and it is diiOficult to decide as to which 
 of those powerful families deserves the palm of 
 superior tyranny. II Moro's fate was richly merited : 
 his young nephew was but seven years of age when 
 his father was assassinated, and the savage uncle in- 
 stantly resolved to appropriate his dukedom. He 
 invaded the territory of Milan, got the young Duke 
 and his mother, Bona of Savoy, into his power and 
 kept them prisoners for the remainder of their lives, 
 
THE SFORZA. Ill 
 
 till the usual close by poison released the young 
 Duke, after eighteen years confinement ; he breathed 
 his last in the castle of Pa via, and II Moro was un- 
 disputed sovereign. 
 
 Galeazzo Maria, the father of this ill-fated young 
 Prince, was guilty of cruelties even unknown to his 
 brother : his heart was puffed up with pride, and he 
 foresaw not the early downfall of his race. At a 
 grand banquet, given at Christmas, the Duke, ex- 
 ulting in his state and power, looked proudly round 
 upon his assembled nobles, and arrogantly observed, 
 as he counted eighteen members of his family all 
 young and stronga nd flourishing and gay : *' The 
 House of Sforza will last for ages to come." 
 
 The next day the assassin's dagger told another 
 tale, and the proud Sforza lay in his palace mur- 
 dered. 
 
 There is a fanciful derivation of the name of Sforza, 
 which supposes it to have arisen from the following 
 circumstance. The name of the first chief was 
 Muzio Attendolo, who fought under the banners of Al- 
 berico da Barbiano : on an occasion when he thought 
 his share of the booty gained was unjustly with- 
 held, he shewed great violence, and his captain ex- 
 claimed : " Ha ! are you going to use force with 
 me, as you have done against others ? — the name of 
 Sforza would methinks suit you better than that of 
 Muzio." From this time he adopted the appellation. 
 Probably, however, the name arose from the strength 
 and valour of the man who first ennobled the family, 
 
112 VISCONTI. 
 
 the same Muzio or Giacomuzzo, as he is indifferently 
 called, who is said to have been ploughing in a field 
 of Cotignola, when some troops marched by. His 
 spirit was roused at seeing the French adherents of 
 the Duke of Orleans— no other tlian Charles the 
 Poet — treading the soil of his native land. He cast 
 his plough, some say * his hatchet,' up into a tree 
 and waited for an omen : * if,' he thought, * this re- 
 mains where I have thrown it I will take it as a 
 proof that I am destined to a career of arms, if it 
 falls I will resume my agricultural labours.' 
 
 The plough or hatchet was entangled in the 
 branches and did not descend, and Attendolo aban- 
 doned his fields : his courage and promptitude, his 
 talents and energy won him a way to fame, and 
 the name of Sforza. 
 
 The Sforza had been preceded by the Visconti ; 
 the first of which family that reigned in Milan was 
 Matteo, called the Great : overcoming the enmity 
 of the Torriani, his ancient foes, Matteo established 
 his power for a time, but a struggle afterwards en- 
 sued in which the Torriani got the better, and Matteo 
 and his son Galeazzo were compelled to leave the 
 field to their foes. Matteo retired to Peschiera, and 
 his son to Ferrara. While the exiled prince was thus 
 reduced to a private station, Guido Torriani, who was 
 then lord of Milan, sent him an insulting message, 
 desiring to know how he passed his time and when 
 he hoped to return to Milan. The messenger found 
 him walking on the banks of the Adige, and on 
 
HENRY OF LUXEMBOURG. 113 
 
 hearing these questions he turned to him calmly 
 and replied : ** You see how I live, amusing myself 
 and accommodating myself to my fortune : with 
 respect to the time of my returning to Milan, I look 
 forward to it when the sins of the Torriani shall be 
 greater than those of the Visconti." 
 
 In 1311, Henry of Luxembourg was crowned 
 with the iron crown, and on the occasion summoned 
 the rival families to the foot of his throne, exhorting 
 them to live in friendship. A seeming reconciliation 
 took place but it wrought evil to the peacemaker, 
 against whom a conspiracy was formed, in which 
 both parties joined, and, in the end, Matteo Visconti 
 once more triumphed and became ruler as before. 
 His son succeeded him, but his health had suffered 
 so much during a confinement of five years, that he 
 died early, leaving a son who possessed more virtues 
 than those who had gone before him. He was so 
 much beloved by his subjects that when he died it 
 !S said three thousand persons put on mourning. 
 
 Another Galeazzo Visconti, lord of Pavia, married 
 his daughter Violante to Lionel Duke of Clarence, 
 and thus connected the family with England. 
 
 Napoleon's usurpation of the sovereignty of Milan 
 for France was only one of a series. The monarchs 
 of that ambitious nation had frequently endeavoured 
 to establish a claim to a country, which Nature 
 seems to have so removed by its rocky barriers from 
 all others, that it might seem secure ; yet the greater 
 
 I 
 
114 VALENTINA OF MILAN. 
 
 the obstacles the more resohite has been the attempt, 
 and the prize has for many ages been hotly con- 
 tested. 
 
 The marriage of the fair and faithful Valentina, 
 daughter of Giovanni Galeazzo Visconti, with the 
 Duke of Orleans, gave France a claim to Milan 
 through her, which Charles VIII. Louis XII. and 
 Francis I. enforced, but too resolutely. 
 
 The amiable Valentina's fate was most melan- 
 choly, her husband murdered, and her two sons 
 persecuted, good reason had she to adopt the mourn- 
 ful motto which afterwards distinguished her. 
 "Rien ne m'est plus — plus ne m'est rien !" 
 
 If fame could heal the wounds of the heart she 
 might have been consoled, but to that she was no 
 longer sensible, for death had closed her career 
 before her illustrious son Charles of Orleans, 
 the first poet of his time, made the world musical 
 with his deathless lays. She knew not of his cele- 
 brity, and she wept not his captivity in England 
 of twenty-five years. 
 
 Many a time has the beautiful city of Milan been 
 the scene of gorgeous magnificence, and many have 
 been the honoured guests which its mighty Dukes 
 have received with splendour. Lorenzo de Medici, 
 in the lifetime of his father Piero, came here in great 
 state to stand sponsor for him to the eldest son of 
 Galeazzo Sforza. 
 
 A letter from hence from Lorenzo to his wife 
 
115 
 
 Clarice is interesting in its extreme simplicity and 
 affection . 
 
 * I arrived here in safety and am in good health. This I be- 
 lieve will please thee better than anything else except my return: 
 at least so I judge from my own desire to be once more with thee. 
 Associate as much as possible with my father and my sister. I 
 shall make all possible speed to return to thee, for it appears a 
 thousand years till I see thee again. Pray to God for me. If 
 thou want anything from this place write in time. 
 
 From Milan, 22nd July, 1469. 
 
 Thy Lorenzo, de' Medici.* 
 
 When the sponsor departed his gifts were so splen- 
 did, that they excited the wish of the receivers that 
 he should perform that duty again. He gave to 
 the Duchess a gold necklace with a diamond that 
 cost about three thousand ducats. 
 
 Louis XII. of France in 1507 visited Milan in 
 state, after the reduction of revolted Genoa. He 
 was received with infinite honour and pomp, and at 
 a grand festival the King condescended to appear 
 in the character of a dancer, opening the ball with 
 the Marchioness of Mantua. Two cardinals kept 
 him in countenance, and laid aside their gravity on 
 the occasion : probably at the period such gaiety 
 
 ** was not held a stain." 
 Certainly these dancing cardinals were more inno- 
 cent characters than many churchmen, their con- 
 temporaries, for instance Caesar Borgia and his 
 father, Pope Alexander VI. ! 
 
 Louis however did not keep possession of his 
 
 I 2 
 
116 LOUIS xn. 
 
 Milanese possessions, being altogether driven out by 
 the Emperor Maximilian and the intrigues of Pope 
 Julius II. ; by whom the son of Ludovico il 
 Moro was restored to the Duchy : notwithstanding 
 all the exploits of the chevalier Bayard and so many 
 noble warriors. One of the causes, it is said, of 
 Louis's failure was owing to the defection of the 
 mercenary Swiss, who, always ready to sell their 
 arms, could never be depended on. The king had 
 offended them by an incautious speech which his 
 enemies had strongly impressed on their memories : 
 when they had demanded an increase of their pen- 
 sions, Louis had exclaimed contemptuously : " What 
 do these paltry mountaineers expect ? do they take 
 me for their tributary or their cashier ?" 
 
 Another glorious triumph over conquered Milan 
 was effected by Francis L, after the disastrous 
 battle of Marignan, which made him master of the 
 whole Milanese. This magnificent prince made his 
 entry into Milan in the ducal robes, at the head of 
 1 ,800 horse and 24,000 foot, accompanied by five 
 princes of the blood. To him the magistrates made 
 as many promises and shewed as many honours as 
 they had done to his predecessors, and as they 
 were ready to do to whatever conqueror entered 
 their walls. 
 
 David TEnfant recounts that the arts of magic 
 were employed on the occasion of the war in the 
 Milanese between Francis I. and the Emperor 
 Charles V., by which means all the king's 
 
 ' 
 
MAGIC. 117 
 
 proceedings were known at Paris the night aftei* 
 any remarkable event. This was effected by means 
 of one of those wondrous glasses which must at that 
 time have been as useful as an atmospheric railway. 
 They were said to be the invention of no less a 
 personage than the philosopher Pythagoras, and 
 their use is thus described : — 
 
 " The moon being at full, somebody writes on a 
 looking-glass any thing that he has a mind to, 
 with blood, and holds it against the moon : a person 
 at a distance who has been duly apprized, will be 
 able to read the communication in another looking- 
 glass, which also reflects the moon." 
 
 This absurd belief was encouraged for several 
 centuries : and believed like that account of a king of 
 Alexandria, who is said to have fixed one of these 
 glasses to a column, and by its means set fire 
 to all his enemy's ships, which, passing along the 
 seas, were reflected in it. 
 
 Nostrodamus, the famous astrologer, did not 
 neglect this means of deceit, and contrived to make 
 his dupes believe that they saw the future in his 
 looking-glasses. 
 
CHAPTER Vlll. 
 
 THE LAZARETTO — HOSPITALS — MILANO LA GEANDE — ARCO 
 BELLA PACE — SAN LORENZO— SAN AMBEOGIO— THE PALLIO — 
 THE BRAZEN SERPENT — SAN EUSTORGIO — SAN PIETRO MAR- 
 TIRE— THE DUOMO— NAPOLEON AND JOSEPHINE — EXTERIOR— 
 COPERTA DE' FIGINI — PIAZZA DE* MERCADANTI — AMBROSIAN 
 LIBRARY — MSS. — BEMBO — BRERA. 
 
 One of the most remarkable buildings belonging 
 to Milan is the Lazaretto, close to the Porta Orientale. 
 There is something exceedingly striking and impres- 
 sive in beholding this place, the refuge for hundreds of 
 unfortunate beings cast out of the great city, and 
 herding together, all under the ban of a frightful 
 malady which separated them from their kind. 
 Here extend for more than a quarter of a mile on 
 each side of the square, the long arcades where the 
 wretched creatures paced with mournful steps, 
 musing on past pleasures and past hopes, and 
 mourning the loss, perhaps, of all whom they held 
 dear. 
 
 The Lazaretto, still standing entire, is a strange 
 memento of the miseries of the middle ages, and 
 the sight of it takes one back to the times when the 
 ill-fated Ludovico il Moro and his Duchess Beatrice 
 with benevolent care provided an asylum for their 
 distressed and outcast subjects. 
 
HOSPITALS. 119 
 
 Close to the magnificent city, amongst the acacia 
 groves of its beautiful boulevards, removed but a 
 few paces from the brilliant Corso, where all the 
 gaiety of Milan is assembled evening after evening, 
 the gloomy Lazar-house rises, like a giant skeleton, 
 as if to remind the young, the thoughtless and the 
 vicious of their mortality, and of 
 
 " all the ills that flesh is heir to." 
 
 Before the fifteenth century had closed, this enor- 
 mous refuge was completed, and for several ages after, 
 it served as a receptacle of disease in its most appal- 
 ling form. Nothing material appears changed in it, 
 except that the ditch is dried up, and there are en- 
 trances to the ranges of houses from without, which 
 of course was a convenience carefully avoided in 
 the time of plague. The inner entrances, next to 
 the great square, remain, and the little tenements 
 thus enjoy thorough air. Artizans of various oc- 
 cupations now live in this quarter, which forms 
 a suburb to the city : all is clean and neat with- 
 in, and the once plague-tainted arcades now afford 
 a pleasant walk to the inhabitants. It is built chiefly 
 of brick, and is in excellent preservation. 
 
 There are several grand hospitals in the town : 
 that called the Ospedale Maggiore is magnificent. 
 It was founded in the middle of the fifteenth century, 
 by Francisco Sforza and his duchess Bianca Maria,, 
 and was formerly a palace of the Visconti. The ex- 
 terior is a fine specimen of antique architecture of 
 the richest kind : the fac^ade is covered with terra 
 
120 HOSPITALS. 
 
 cotta ornaments ; heads and flowers and foliage in 
 beautiful profusion adorn the lofty walls, and the 
 rows of fine pointed arches and windows. 
 
 We visited the kitchens of this fine establishment, 
 and listened to the boasts and exultation of the in- 
 dividual who exhibited every thing, and assured us 
 there was no such place for the sick in the world. 
 Although certainly convenient there might be less 
 slovenliness, and the arrangements are not as good 
 as in some more modern establishments of the same 
 kind, where there is greater space, and where expe- 
 rience has helped to improvement. A ward through 
 which I passed struck me as ill-ventilated and dark, 
 although the room was very large. 
 
 No less than fourteen hundred sick are accommo- 
 dated in this hospital, which is liberally supported 
 by the pious and benevolent Milanais. The por- 
 traits of benefactors are hung up under the porticos 
 of the interior square every two years for public ad- 
 miration, and at the time we visited the place they 
 were exhibited in full force. There is a singular and 
 rather invidious arrangement respecting these pic- 
 tures : the donor of a large sum of money has the 
 privilege of appearing before the world full length, 
 but if he have not opened his purse so widely as his 
 neighbours he is to be known only by his bust. 
 As works of art the portraits composing this gallery 
 do not rank very high. 
 
 The more modern hospital of the Fate- bene- Sorelle 
 is appropriated to females only, and is a beautiful 
 
HOSPITALS. 121 
 
 establishment, supported and endowed by charitable 
 ladies of rank. The wards are spacious and lofty, 
 and scrupulously neat and clean. I observed that 
 most of the sick were young, and there was some- 
 thing inexpressibly touching, and at the same time 
 consoling, in seeing these sufferers in their pretty 
 neat white beds attended by the quiet sisters : all 
 had circular green fans, but though the day was in- 
 tensely hot the long large apartment in which the 
 invalids lay was cool and pleasant. One very hand- 
 some girl followed us with her beautiful bright eyes 
 as we walked slowly along, the delicate colour on 
 her cheek and her fine complexion set off by pen- 
 cilled dark eyebrows, and luxuriant braids of shining 
 black hair, all seemed to speak of a brief existence : 
 she appeared in pain and uttered a groan of anguish 
 as I passed, which made me hasten away, heart-struck 
 from a scene of suffering which I had no power of 
 alleviating. 
 
 But there are sights in Milan able to chase away 
 sadness and afford amusement for many a day. The 
 churches alone are a continuous treat, for they have 
 both modern splendour to attract and antiquity to 
 interest. The palaces, the galleries, the public walks 
 have each peculiar attractions, so that a traveller Avho 
 is not hurried — and it is always a misfortune when 
 he is so — may pass several weeks most agreeably at 
 Milan. I was able to allow only days, and that 
 brief time was not sufficient to do justice to the beau- 
 tiful city: every hour, however, of my stay was 
 
122 MILANO LA GRANDE. 
 
 most excitingly filled up, and I beheld so much that 
 delighted me, that when I look back I can scarcely 
 believe that so many agreeable impressions could 
 have been crowded into a space so small. 
 
 " Only methought the time too swiftly past. 
 And ev'ry hour I feared would be the last." 
 
 Milano la grande no longer, as of old, echoes to 
 the sound of the smith's anvil, preparing those 
 famous hauberks and blades which many a knight 
 was proud to wear in honour of his lady love and 
 in defence of his sovereign lord. The huge defences 
 which once stood against her foes have disappeared, 
 and beautiful groves and gardens smile where they 
 threatened : what Milan was in times of yore is 
 seen in a few dilapidated towers, which still raise their 
 rugged heads above the glories of the French Piazza 
 d'armi.. These are the last memories of the magni- 
 ficent Ducal palace, which in the fourteenth century 
 a Visconti erected, and in the fifteenth a mob de- 
 stroyed, to be again rebuilt by a new tyrant, and 
 moulder gradually away in the course of time, which 
 " makes all things even.'* 
 
 The enormous square which this palace-castle oc- 
 cupied, with all its fortifications, to keep the enemy 
 at home and abroad in awe, was destined by the 
 French conquerors of Italy to be the scene of a re- 
 vival of antique customs. Here was to have been 
 a Forum, and Milan would have been a younger 
 Rome under the auspices of the classical republi- 
 cans, who panted to emulate the glories of the 
 
ARCO DELLA PACE. 123 
 
 ancients, whom they rejoiced to imitate both in 
 their virtues and their vices. Here is[still the arena, 
 the naumachia, grandly designed and imposing, even 
 though a failure. Thirty thousand spectators can 
 still assemble in its enclosure to gaze on some spec- 
 tacle, perhaps as worthy of regard as the shows which 
 pleased the ancients. 
 
 The Arco della Pace, was originally to have been 
 called The Arch of the Simplon, and was intended 
 by the Imperial and too ambitious projector, as the 
 second of the many which should give him entrance 
 from his chief seat at Paris into the Italian cities 
 which he had brought to his feet. It has a good 
 effect, and though much less lofty, is perhaps as fine 
 as that in the Champs Elysees : the details, if defec- 
 tive, do not intrude on the eye of the passer by, and 
 the whole is splendid, majestic, and in keeping with 
 the scenes around. 
 
 Of all the monuments which once filled Milan, 
 very slight vestiges remain : the most remarkable is 
 the range of pillars before the church of San Lorenzo. 
 I came upon them suddenly as we drove down the 
 street, and the appearance of sixteen tall, solemn 
 Corinthian columns, standing in the way, amidst the 
 bustle of a crowded street, and guarding the approach 
 to a temple dedicated to a worship which was foreign 
 to their day, is very startling. I walked between 
 them and round them, examined their mutilated 
 fluted surfaces and gazed up at their venerable capitals, 
 wondering how it was possible that " time, war, flood 
 
124 SAN LORENZO. 
 
 and fire** should have spared them to be " a marvel 
 and a secret** down to the present day. 
 
 The church still exhibits some columns which con- 
 nect the building with those without, but strangely are 
 they distributed : one fine frieze is turned on its side, 
 and forms part of a door- way ; capitals are reversed 
 and serve for pedestals ; pillars are placed across as 
 supports, and no regard whatever has been shewn to 
 the original destination of the carved stones, which 
 have been merely selected to save trouble and cost 
 in the reconstruction of the often destroyed edifice, 
 which replaced the temple of Hercules and the mag- 
 nificent baths named in his honour. 
 
 The great Basilica of St. Ambrogio is full of riches 
 and splendour : porphyry columns, gold, azure, 
 silver and enamel dazzle the eyes as these treasures 
 gleam through the dim arcades, and, touched by the 
 sun -light, shine like faith in the midst of gloom. 
 The cypress-wood doors, closed by the undaunted 
 Saint against a tyrant Emperor, are still to be seen, 
 or, if not the identical, still venerable relics which 
 represent the gates which once guarded the entrance 
 of the Duomo, and were transferred to this church, a 
 temple dedicated to the Saint whose noble action won 
 him immortal honour. They are defended from the 
 clamorous devotion of the pious by iron bars, and 
 present fine specimens of alto-relievo carving : much 
 of the iron work round appears as old as the date 
 given to them, and the whole is looked upon as 
 sacred and able to work miracles even now. 
 
THE PALLIO. 125 
 
 Strange is it, after all the fortunes of Milan, so 
 often lost and won, to behold the high altar still ra- 
 diant with that far famed ornament, wrought by the 
 most cunning hands that ever handled the delicate 
 implements of the goldsmith's craft. 
 
 Wondrous is it to stand on the steps of the altar 
 where the bodies of three saints repose, and to trace 
 by an imperfect light, the exquisite patterns, involved 
 and mazy, of the golden plates which case the 
 precious shrine. Countless are the gems of every 
 hue which lie embedded in their carved frames and 
 surround the pictured histories of the saints' lives, 
 minutely related by the inspired goldsmith Wolvinus, 
 who executed this unrivalled work in the beginning 
 of the ninth century. 
 
 This Pallio, held sacred for so many centuries, 
 and respected in times when gold, silver, and 
 jewels, were valued for "as much money as they'd 
 bring," escaped destruction from age to age, and 
 got through those perilous times when most of the 
 treasures of Italy were torn from their recesses, 
 and throughout Europe shrines and altars were 
 sought only to be stripped, in order to swell the 
 coffers of rapacious conquerors. It is as exquisite 
 in imagery and execution, as if the hands of the 
 cunning Aholiab and Bezaleel had been employed : 
 scarcely could those " wise-hearted men," have 
 shewn more skill in adorning the altar of the true 
 God, inspired as they were with understanding 
 and knowledge " in all manner of workmanship," 
 
126 BRAZEN SERPENT. 
 
 " to devise curious works, to work in gold, and in 
 silver, and in brass, and in the cutting of stones to 
 set them, and to v^ork all manner of work of the 
 engraver, and of the cunning workman." 
 
 The approach to the church is imposing, by a 
 vestibule bordered with antique pillars : on the walls 
 are crowded inscribed stones, saved from the wrecks 
 of the former fabrics, which stood through so many 
 ages on this spot, — some rude half effaced frescoes 
 still stain the surface, but their subject can scarcely 
 be traced : a sepulchral urn of a supposed warrior 
 of ancient fame stands close by the fine pillars of 
 the mysterious portal, which gives entrance into this 
 remarkable edifice, a perfect museum of marbles, 
 altars, chapels, tombs, and frescoes. 
 
 On a porphyry pillar, writhing in strange con- 
 tortions, the Brazen Serpent of the Desert attracts 
 the eye, long believed to be the identical image 
 named in Scripture as set up by Moses, according 
 to divine commandment, to stay the torments of 
 the people who had dared to rebel, and were suffer- 
 ing for their crime. 
 
 What must have been the effect produced on the 
 minds of those who, gazing on this piece of bronze, 
 doubtless a talisman of immense antiquity, could 
 allow their bewildered imaginations to credit the 
 fact that they stood before that fiery serpent, which 
 Moses made " of brass, and set it upon a pole, and 
 it came to pass that if a serpent had bitten any man, 
 when he beheld the serpent of brass, he lived." 
 
ST. SATIRO. 127 
 
 Some wise English traveller had insisted to the 
 exhibitor of this brazen serpent that it could not be 
 that of Moses, " because he had broken that image 
 in the desert," confounding it with the molten calf, 
 which the lawgiver destroyed ; and the poor custode 
 was, when I visited the church, in so much tribula- 
 tion at the recent information of this learned 
 Theban, that he did not venture to relate to us its 
 pretensions. 
 
 1 had heard our compatriot boasting at the table- 
 d'hote the day before of the notable manner in 
 which he had " put down" the guide of St. 
 Ambrogio, whose knowledge of Scripture history 
 not being probably superior to that of his critic, we 
 found so " chop-fallen." 
 
 Beautiful is the chapel of St. Satiro, where, 
 beneath a cupola of gold and mosaic, and surrounded 
 by full length figures of saints, wrought in the 
 same precious materials, are said to repose the ashes 
 of St. Ambrogio's brother, whose name of Satiro is 
 so startling to a Christian ear. 
 
 St. Ambrogio's marble chair stands in the centre 
 of the Byzantine choir, where gold and mosaic 
 glitter in beautiful profusion. All the other marble 
 seats, which formerly were ranged in order here, 
 have disappeared, and are replaced by fine carved 
 stalls of extreme delicacy. I was shewn some very 
 exquisite manuscripts by the youthful sacristan, 
 whose pleasing intelligent countenance spoke, I 
 thought, more of delight than devotion as he 
 
128 
 
 SAN EUSTORGIO. 
 
 exhibited the treasures of the church and pointed 
 out the beauties of the charming miniatures glow- 
 ing with gold and fresh colours, which he seemed 
 as much gratified to display as I to gaze upon. 
 
 It was not a little amusing to remark the plea- 
 sure evidently shared by the assistants who shewed 
 us the Pallio, as they removed plank after plank 
 which defended the sacred treasure, and exclaimed 
 in admiration at its glories, which, one after the 
 other, shone brightly forth : singular does it seem to 
 behold men leaping on the holy altars at these 
 exhibitions, turning their backs to sacred objects, 
 and irreverently dragging off coverings for the 
 edification of heretics who pay five francs to the 
 church funds for the treat which their curiosity 
 obtains. 
 
 An inexplicable monument is the pulpit with its 
 eagle's wings, and equally so the sarcophagus 
 beneath it ; both are extremely curious and interest- 
 ing, but the mind is puzzled to understand the 
 meaning of the figures and scrolls, and types and 
 enigmas in bronze and stone about them. 
 
 San Eustorgio is one of the most interesting 
 churches of the many in Milan, and is as old as the 
 fourth century. Here stands a large sarcophagus, 
 wliich once contained the bodies of the three Kings 
 whose throne of jewels is now at Cologne : and here 
 is a beautiful shrine of San Pietro Martire, who was 
 accustomed, from a pulpit on the outside of this 
 church, to preach to the people on the crimes of 
 
ST. PIETRO MARTIRE. 129 
 
 heretics and schismatics. I could not help smiling at 
 the mistaken zeal of one of my party who, confound- 
 ing this celebrated persecuting Saint with Peter 
 Martyr the famous divine of Florence, imagined it 
 becoming, as a good Protestant, to seek for his 
 picture and his chapel wherever they were to be 
 seen. 
 
 I was not at first aware of the cause of this en- 
 thusiasm, which a little surprised me, and on in- 
 quiry, discovered that the Romish saint, who was 
 one of the most furious enemies of new doctrines and 
 advocated every severity of the Inquisition against 
 those who differed from his own standard of belief, 
 and who moreover flourished in the thirteenth cen- 
 tury, was receiving honours and respect from a 
 good Protestant, in consequence of a blunder, which 
 turned him into his namesake of the sixteenth, 
 who adopted the appellation of Martyr, because the 
 church of the saint stood near his paternal mansion, 
 the name of his family being Vermilius : it was 
 not the fault of Queen Mary that this seceder from 
 Popery was not really a martyr, and he probably 
 would have been equally ready to inflict the same 
 fate on his persecuting compatriot, had the power 
 been given him, and had he lived in his time, so 
 far from Christianity is the rage of zealous reformers 
 on both sides of the important and ill understood 
 question. 
 
 This strange error once corrected, I heard no 
 more of San Pietro Martire, and even the famous 
 
 K 
 
130 THE DUOMO. 
 
 picture by Titian at Venice, was afterwards un- 
 noticed by his awakened admirer. 
 
 San Vittore al Corpo, its fine stucco ornaments, its 
 enamelled cupolas, and the bold bas-reliefs of its stalls, 
 offer much to admire ; some beautiful embroidery is 
 shewn worked by the delicate fingers of a lady 
 benefactress, and is worthy of the vociferous com- 
 mendations of the zealous custode. 
 
 The lightness and brilliancy of the Duomo, to 
 which the stranger again and again returns after 
 visiting the other churches, hardly prepares one for 
 the solemn grandeur of the interior, which, though 
 less impressive than some gothic cathedrals I have 
 seen, is yet commanding and splendid to an extra- 
 ordinary degree, from its great and uninterrupted 
 height. The restored windows of beautiful painted 
 glass, are so admirable that they can scarcely be 
 recognised as a work of modern art : all is grand 
 and large and appropriate in this cathedral, and if 
 there is something more antique required to satisfy 
 the mind in such a place, it is impossible not to 
 acknowledge the merit and beauty of all it con- 
 tains : the marbles, the bronzes, the pavement, the 
 roof, the pillars, the shrines, are all costly and 
 splendid, and in good taste and keeping. 
 
 In the fine subterranean chapel of San Carlo 
 Borromeo, is the most interesting exhibition of the 
 kind I ever beheld, though in general, the gorgeous 
 shrines of saints do' not excite any particular grati- 
 fication in my mind. Here, however, all is so rich, 
 
SHRINE OF THE SAINT. 131 
 
 SO beautiful, that it cannot but please. The walls 
 are blazing with silver and golden carvings, in 
 alto-relievo, representing incidents in the saint's 
 life, and precious are the gems which glitter in 
 profusion round each compartment of the bistory. 
 We witnessed the whole process of the exhibi- 
 tion of the saint's body : the talismanic number 
 of francs having rendered any pious scruples unne- 
 cessary, and San Carlo appeared to our eyes in his 
 crystal shrine, as hideous a spectacle of withered 
 and blackened humanity as could be seen, sur- 
 rounded as he lies with all the gorgeous vanities of 
 the world, in blazing robes stiff with jewels and 
 gold, with all the emblems of power and pomp, and 
 state, and wealth, that ambition could covet— there 
 grins the fleshless skull, there glare the eyeless 
 sockets, there moulder the darkened cheeks, and 
 there reposes the brainless head, mitered and 
 crowned, banded and starred — a thing to shudder at 
 and turn from with awe and disgust, in spite of the 
 blazing candles lighted in its honour (or rather in 
 honour of the money of the curious), and the heaps 
 of wealth spread out, above, below, and underneath 
 the body of the good man whom popular devotion 
 made a saint. 
 
 Round the chapel of the saint, in glass cases, are 
 innumerable treasures in silver and gold ; amongst 
 them is shewn a piece of workmanship of great 
 beauty, executed by Caradosso, of whom even the 
 jealous Cellini, who was his contemporary, speaks 
 
 K 2 
 
132 CARADOSSO. 
 
 with respect, when describing the fashionable medals, 
 which noblemen wore in their caps, and which were 
 fashioned by the first artists. " I made,** says 
 Cellini, " several things of this sort, but found 
 such jobs very difficult, the celebrated artist named 
 Caradosso would not take less than one hundred 
 crowns for one of them, because they contained a 
 variety of figures." He adds, that having made one, 
 which, being compared to the work of Caradosso 
 was preferred, he was so much gratified at " the 
 happiness of making an approach to the excellence 
 of so great a master," that the honour was remune- 
 ration enough for him, and he asked no other. 
 
 This work of Caradosso is a Pax covered with 
 figures of extreme beauty and delicacy. 
 
 Many and strange have been the scenes which 
 have taken place beneath the magnificent roof of 
 this beautiful cathedral, from the time that the 
 pious and resolute St. Ambrogio refused admittance 
 within its walls, to an emperor stained with recent 
 crime : but seldom was there one more extraordi- 
 nary or unlooked for than that which startled 
 Europe in our own times. 
 
 It was in this church that Napoleon, the great 
 soldier of Fortune, who then stood on the topmost 
 height of the wheel, and made it pause beneath his 
 powerful foot, was crowned king of Italy. 
 
 Glittering with countless diamonds, the centre of 
 a beautiful and brilliant group, the fascinating 
 Josephine and the enchanting EHza looked proudly 
 
NAPOLEON AND JOSEPHINE. 133 
 
 on the pageant, of which they formed a leading 
 feature, while the object of their love and exultation 
 paced along the majestic aisles of the Cathedral of 
 conquered Milan, wearing an imperial, and bearing 
 a regal crown. After him followed a train of nobles 
 and heroes with the regalia of the mighty Charle- 
 magne, his second in glory, and the respected 
 cardinal, whose mind was not allowed to wander 
 back to the time when priests commanded emperors. 
 No hand but his own was worthy to crown such 
 a. monarch, as then placed the miraculous iron 
 circlet on his own brows, and no words but those of 
 the legend attached to that circle itself were, he 
 thought, appropriate to the occasion : 
 
 " Grod has given, woe to him who touches it." 
 
 Leaving the unnumbered beauties of the interior of 
 the Duomo, I mounted the tower which led to the out- 
 side, and found myself soon climbing amongst flying 
 buttresses, pinnacles, fairy staircases, winding ways, 
 galleries, arcades, groves of statues, gardens of flowers 
 and foliage, cupolas, vistas, bridges and temples, like 
 a pilgrim wandering in an enchanted dream. Beau- 
 tiful faces, grotesque figures, angels, monkeys, saints 
 and bishops, seemed nodding to me from every pro- 
 jection ; the three thousand figures of the majestic 
 Duomo were round me : a forest of fretted pinnacles 
 shone out in the bright sunlight against a sky of 
 cloudless blue ; the mighty city with all its palaces 
 
134 COPERTO Dli' FIGINI. 
 
 and domes lay glittering below, and new boughs and 
 branches and arches and festoons of sculptured stone 
 still rose in pyramids above my head, till I became 
 dazzled and giddy with the wonderful profusion of 
 unrivalled beauty into whose mazes I had strayed. 
 
 All Lombardy seems spread out at the foot of this 
 unapproachably beautiful fabric, and it is fitting that 
 the eternal snows of the gigantic Alps should alone 
 bound the view. A sudden shower which began to 
 patter amongst the sculptured foliage shining in the 
 gleaming sun, made me pause beneath one of the 
 fretted arches, and a low growl of thunder at a dis- 
 tance warned me not to await our usual evening 
 storm in that exalted position. I therefore slowly 
 descended, revisiting the winged angels and dra- 
 peried saints who had greeted me on my upward 
 way, and found myself on the marble steps of the 
 Cathedral, opposite the piazza of the Coperto de' Fi- 
 gini, scarcely conscious where I stood or in what 
 company I had been. 
 
 The arcades which extend on one side of the ir- 
 regular square before the Cathedral form one of the 
 few antique remains of Milan, and it is to be hoped 
 that modern improvement will not do away with 
 those few venerable arches, even though they may 
 appear less gay and brilliant than altogether agrees 
 with the smart cafes near. 
 
 Another vestage of antiquity, mixed up with new 
 buildings, is the Piazza de' Mercadanti, where still 
 
PALAZZO DELLA RAGIONE. 135 
 
 stands, so beautified and remodelled as to be scarcely 
 recognizable, the Palazzo della Ragione, common to 
 most Italian towns, where the magistrates and 
 judges were in old times accustomed to meet. 
 
 When I first went into the square it was echoing 
 with the music of a military band, which veiled fair 
 ones and lounging beaux were pausing to listen to : 
 we stopped like the rest, and I looked round in admi- 
 ration of the singular scene. In the centre stood the 
 Palazzo, guarded at one facade by a mounted figure, 
 of a strangely accoutred warrior, who is no other than 
 the Podesta Oldrado Grosso himself, saved from the 
 wreck of ornament and rescued from amongst the 
 fallen pillars of the palace, to be placed amidst new 
 stone and brick in his original place of honour. I 
 could not read the inscription beneath his effigy, 
 which records his pious deeds in extirpating heresy 
 as far as in him lay : but his appearance is such as 
 I remember to have seen in an old manuscript 
 romance of his time, the thirteenth century, where 
 a knight is represented armed cap-a-pie, without a 
 vestige of humanity left to his figure or head, yet 
 the romancer assures his reader that his hero wore 
 a suit of armour " which became him mightily." 
 
 Opposite this figure is a building supported by 
 many pointed and circular arches, and very curious 
 in its construction : in the centre projects a heavy 
 stone balcony, called the ringhiera, and all along 
 are the shields of different magistrates of Milan : the 
 serpent of the Visconti is conspicuous, and the tra- 
 
136 siioi's. 
 
 (litioiiary lialf-jieecy sow* attacked by an eaglo is 
 dimly distinguished in one of the stone tablets. 
 
 This is called the Loggia degli Orsii, and is as old 
 as the fourteenth century. 
 
 On the other, side of the square is a very elegant 
 building of much more modern date, the Palazzo 
 della Citta. On the whole the appearance of this 
 square is infinitely more remarkable than any other 
 in Milan, and all its old recollections of the middle 
 ages are apparently concentrated in this spot. 
 
 I frequently returned to this ancient place, and 
 could not help wishing that Milan had preserved 
 elsewhere more of her original character : for there 
 is in general as much of French as Italian in the 
 manners and customs : the booksellers' shops are 
 filled with yellow paper- covered novels from Paris 
 and London, and Italian classics find no place upon 
 the shelves. The jewellers' shops are poor and mean, 
 and I was much disappointed at the display of 
 trinkets, which seem only fit for wearers of the 
 humblest class : the prices asked and taken of 
 an English customer are widely at variance, and the 
 presumptuous demands of the Jewish sellers are 
 really amusing in their impertinence. The immense 
 
 * On the walls of Milan formerly was seen frequently sculptured 
 the monster from which it is said to have derived its name, half 
 sow, half sheep. 
 
 Ad Moenia Gallis 
 
 Condita laniger(2 suis ostentantia pellum. — Claud. 
 Et quae lanigerae de sue nomen habet, — Sidon. Apoll. 
 
 Verri's History. 
 
AMBROSIAN LIBRARY. 137 
 
 quantity of painted fans on the stalls was all 1 
 observed which seemed characteristic of Italy ; as 
 every female carries one, the supply must necessarily 
 be extensive. 
 
 T could not quit Milan without asking to see at the 
 Ambrosian Library the handwriting of Petrarch on 
 the Virgil adorned with miniatures by Simone 
 Memmi. The notes are written with infinite neat- 
 ness and precision, and I endeavoured to decipher 
 them with great interest. 
 
 There are many pictures of value in the Am- 
 brosian Gallery, and a school of design containing 
 excellent studies. Several portraits by Leonardo 
 are admirable ; one in particular, a small head, struck 
 me as full of simplicity and truth. It represents a 
 young woman with features somewhat irregular but 
 very pleasing : fine full eyes, a short expressive 
 upper lip, round chin and delicate cheek. The soft 
 hair is negligently braided, and covered with a 
 transparent cap, trimmed with pearls and fastened 
 by a ribbon tied carelessly at the side, which goes 
 across the forehead, and is ornamented from space 
 to space by a rich jewel with a pendant pearl ; a 
 necklace of large pearls encircles the throat, and a 
 magnificent broach confines the rich robe. 
 
 I believe this to be a portrait of Beatrice d'Este, 
 the young Duchess of Milan, who died in giving 
 birth to an infant, and whose monument is in the 
 Certosa near Pavia. As there is no catalogue and 
 the custode was busily engaged in explaining a sa 
 
138 AMBROSIAN LIBRARY. 
 
 manihre, the other pictures to some gaping groups 
 of strangers, I could only guess at the subjects 
 of those before which I paused. 
 
 The pride of the collection is the famous cartoon 
 for the fresco of the School of Athens, by Raphael, 
 which it would be worth a young artist's while to 
 cross the Alps to study. 
 
 Some sculpture of considerable interest is 
 scattered in different parts of the building. In an 
 open corridor stand several fine casts of Rodolfo 
 Schadow's works, which exist in the magnificent 
 gallery at Chatsworth ; a winged spirit, angel or 
 cupid, crowned, is extremely lovely, and the exqui- 
 sitely beautiful Filatrice recalled my recollection of 
 the fine original at the Palace of the Peak. 
 
 A bust of Thorwaldsen, singularly like Cuvier, is in 
 one of the first rooms, and some copies of Canova's 
 delicate female veiled heads are charmingly exe- 
 cuted. The Chatsworth Laura is amongst them. 
 
 Amongst the numerous pictures are some glow- 
 ing heads by Giorgione, bold drawings by the 
 Caracci, and several specimens of minute beauty from 
 the hands of Breughel and Marchesino, the very 
 perfection of miniature excellence and graceful or- 
 nament. 
 
 A volume full of Leonardo da Vinci's drawings, 
 is one of the great treasures of the library, but I 
 could obtain a glimpse only of this and many others, 
 guarded by an envious glass case. An early Dante 
 tempts in vain to turn over the leaves; the Missal of 
 
BEMBO. 139 
 
 San Carlo Borromeo shines at a distance, and the 
 fair lock of hair of the too beautiful Lucrezia lies 
 beside her letters to her Cardinal lover. 
 
 Strange that such love as subsisted between the 
 gifted but unprincipled Bembo and the wife of Al- 
 fonzo of Ferrara should ever have inspired him with 
 delicate feeling and " real sensibility," which Sis- 
 mondi considers him to have shewn in the following 
 lines from a canzone of his * Asolani :' 
 
 Qualor due fiere, in solitaria piaggia, 
 Girsen pascendo semplicette e snelle, 
 Per I'erbaverde, scorgo di lontano, 
 Piangendo lor comincio : O lieta e saggia 
 Vita d'amanti, a vol nemiche stelle 
 Non fan vostro sperar fallace e vano. 
 Un bosco, un monte, un piano, 
 Un piacer, un desio, sempre vi tene. 
 lo de la donna mia quanto son lunge ? 
 Deh ! se pieta vi punge. 
 Date udienza inseme a le mie pene. 
 E'ntanto mi riscuoto, e veggio espresso 
 Che per cercar altrui, perdo me stesso. 
 
 I took up a book by oiiance from a pile, and 
 started to find, in so learned a retreat, a wretched 
 old French novel, apparently one of an extensive 
 series, evidently more in use than works of weightier 
 and more useful character. It is strange that libra- 
 ries intended for the improvement of the public mind 
 should be encumbered with so much trash as gene- 
 rally swells their shelves and pushes better authors 
 " from their stools." 
 
140 THE BUERA. 
 
 Petrarch, Dante, Boccacio unasked for, and * Betsy 
 Tatless* and her race always ready at hand ! 
 
 The palace of the Brera is full of riches, and there 
 is plenty to delight and instruct the arlist and the 
 amateur within its walls : the light is however 
 glaring and ill-disposed, and it seemed to me that 
 the young artists who were there studying, were 
 more intent on play than work. Two youthful 
 aspirants of fame, supposed to be copying a Gauden- 
 zio Ferrari, were playfully chasing each other round 
 their respective easels, with no stern monitor to re- 
 press their gambols. 
 
 The frescoes of Luini, ranged along a gallery of 
 entrance, are admirable and singularly fresh and 
 fine. One of the Presentation of the Virgin in the 
 Temple delighted me by its grace and simplicity. 
 The timid and modest young girl is mounting the 
 broad steps which lead to the temple, alone and un- 
 supported save by her conscious innocence, the ad- 
 miring gaze of those below following her steps, and 
 the benevolent welcome of the priests above are 
 admirably expressed and *exquisitely imagined. 
 
 The same subject, and the Salutation, by Gau- 
 denzio Ferrari are also extremely attractive. 
 
 I was, however, obliged to hurry through the 
 fine rooms, having unluckily deferred my visit to 
 this gallery till too late in the day, and could there- 
 fore only carry away a faint recollection of many 
 works of art. Several bright and fresh figures of 
 
THE BRERA. 141 
 
 Saints in flowing draperies by Moretto, struck me 
 as admirable, and attracted my eye by their peculiar 
 style, with which I was hitherto unacquainted. Bel- 
 lini also offered some of his wonderful truths to my 
 observation, but I was forced almost to disregard 
 him for the present, knowing that we should make 
 nearer acquaintance at Venice, and Bassano's mira- 
 cles of art I could only admire en passant, consoled 
 with the same hope, which was not disappointed. 
 
 Raphael's great picture of the Marriage of the 
 Virgin, in his early style, I dare not speak of, not 
 having had time to dwell on its merits. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MONZA — THEODOLINDA — THE CHIOCCIA — IL SACRO CIIIODO — 
 BROLETTO — THE CRYSTAL POOL — APPROACH TO COMO. 
 
 Through groves of acacias and long avenues of 
 Lombardy poplars, we quitted the charming city of 
 Milan, on our way to Monza : we had not chosen 
 the railroad, which now connects the great town with 
 that interesting spot where the celebrated cathedral 
 is a daily attraction to the curious. 
 
 The weather was bright and beautiful, and the 
 road presented a continued succession of cheerful 
 objects : pretty country houses bordered the way, 
 all with flourishing gardens full of roses. One in 
 particular was remarkable for its luxuriance and en- 
 joyable aspect. Above a wall garlanded with climbing 
 plants over which peeped crimson and pink roses in 
 charming profusion the house rose covered with its 
 trellice, all over purple and white clusters of flowers 
 and a pretty summer pavilion emulated its beauties 
 at the end of the garden walks, 
 
 " Both faire and fruitful, and the ground dispred 
 
 With grassie green of delectable hew. 
 And the tall trees with leaves unparelled. 
 Are deckt with blossoms dyed in white and red. 
 
 That mote the passengers thereto allure." 
 
 The blue mountains closed the distance and 
 
THEODOLINDA. 143 
 
 beckoned us on towards the city of Theodolinda and 
 the lovely shores of the most enchanting of lakes. 
 
 Monza, which formerly had a monastic character 
 of quiet silence, is now noisy and disturbative. The 
 moment a traveller stops at the Falcone, he is pounced 
 upon by rapacious guides and intrusive waiters, and 
 it is with difficulty he can make his way to any 
 quarter which he desires to see, so noisy and vexatious 
 are the interruptions that beset him. 
 
 Nevertheless it is worth while to endure some 
 annoyance in order to gain the opportunity of be- 
 holding the beauties and curiosities of the fine Duomo, 
 and to have antique memories renewed of the fair 
 and famous Queen Theodolinda, the heroine of the 
 Longobardi. 
 
 Her story is not altogether unlike that attributed 
 by the Poet to the lovely Lalla Rookh, although 
 her being a Bavarian does not suggest to the mind 
 any very romantic visions of 
 
 ** Eyes full of sleep, and cheeks all bright with roses." 
 
 She had however a great reputation for loveliness, 
 wit, wisdom and virtue, and Antharis the King of the 
 Lombards day after day sat listlessly in his palace, and 
 night after night wooed sleep in vain, so anxious was 
 he to behold the charms which poets sung through- 
 out his dominions. At length Antharis resolved to 
 satisfy himselfthat the bride he had already demanded 
 of her father Garibold, was really the paragon de- 
 scribed. He set forth therefore towards the Bavarian 
 
144 THE queen's fan, comb, and cup. 
 
 court, disguised and ill-concealed amongst his nobles 
 who were taking his message to the expectant King. 
 
 He saw the enchanting Theodolinda, and was at 
 once convinced that poetry falls short of the reality 
 of beauty. 
 
 Well might the charming princess wear by her 
 side the gorgeous fan which 1 held in my hand, and 
 examined amongst the treasures of the church, to 
 shade the glories of those 
 
 " occhi, stelle mortali !" 
 
 whose beams captivated all who fell beneath their 
 influence. The appendage is of painted leather, and 
 its handle is most massive, for it appears to have 
 been inserted, when used, in the case which now 
 encloses it : this is of gold thickly encrusted with 
 jewels ; a large ring is appended by which it must 
 have hung to the girdle. 
 
 The comb with which she was accustomed to 
 smooth her golden hair is also preserved, and proves 
 that her tresses must have been indeed redundant 
 to require so powerful an instrument. 
 
 The cup, perhaps the very same from which her 
 daring lover ventured to entreat her to allow him a 
 draught, when his boldness in kissing her fair hand 
 betrayed his rank to her discerning mind, aware 
 that nature forbade, 
 
 " to less than monarchs that she could be dear." 
 Her cup is a hollow sapphire, or rather something- 
 very like it, fabricated perhaps in the furnaces of 
 
THE CHIOCCIA— ;IL SACRO CHIODO. 145 
 
 Murano. Her cross is of fine crystal with gold 
 chains and pearls hanging from it ; her gospel-book 
 all set with gems and antique carvings ; her crown 
 full of jewels and rough with barbaric gold, but 
 what shall be said of her — hen and chickens ! 
 
 These singular figures, in a tray of silver gilt, are 
 called Chioccia or Chucky, and represent a hen and 
 seven chickens picking up grains of corn. The 
 learned are divided as to their meaning, and singu- 
 larly comic are they to look upon : the more so 
 from being produced amongst church relics, and 
 shewn with quite as much solemnity as the famous 
 Iron crown, // sacro Chiodo, which is supposed to 
 have been hammered into a thin plate from one of 
 the nails of the Cross. 
 
 The usual fee produced the usual alacrity in the 
 good sacristans of Monza, and the Crown, a most 
 sacred relic, was with the customary irreverent pro- 
 cess produced for our inspection : it is true that two 
 or three candles were lighted in its honour, as it was 
 placed on a pole and turned round and round in its 
 crystal case for vulgar eyes to look upon. 
 
 The iron circle is enclosed in one of ornamented 
 gold enamelled, and it is surrounded by small relics 
 equally authentic, and exhibited with the same libe- 
 rality " for a consideration." 
 
 The Gothic Cathedral is very impressive both 
 within and without, in spite of restorations and altera- 
 tions; Queen Theodolinda's sacred hen and chickens 
 appear in a bas-relief over the grand door of entrance 
 
 L 
 
146 DHOLUTTO. 
 
 and the interior walls are covered with dim frescoes 
 relating to her life. 
 
 The town hall or Broletto of Monza is in a very 
 dilapidated state, but still preserves the original cha- 
 racter of its architecture : it is said to be part of a 
 palace built by Frederick Barbarossa, and has the 
 ringhiera or projecting balcony from which it was 
 customary to address the people. 
 
 I first saw here the forked battlements peculiar to 
 this part of Italy : they occur on the tower of the 
 campanile, which is close to the Broletto. 
 
 We were literally driven out of Monza by the 
 crowding and clamouring of the boys and beggars 
 who come in shoals to beset travellers, but the most 
 annoying of all are the guides of all sorts who insist 
 on affording you their services, and quarrel with the 
 attendants whom, to save farther molestation, you 
 may have selected. 
 
 It is a curious fact that, if you take a guide to any 
 place, that individual makes it a point of duty ap- 
 parently to stand exactly in the way between the 
 spectator and the object he seeks to regard, in such 
 a manner as to mask the sight. There is a continued 
 struggle to escape from these cicerone, who appear 
 to think you come expressly for the pleasure of hear- 
 ing their remarks, and gazing in their faces, instead 
 of beholding the pictures or statues they are there to 
 exhibit. 
 
 From Monza all the way to Como, there is nothing 
 but beauty and fertility : the fields are highly culti- 
 
THE CRYSTAL POOL. 147 
 
 vated and bordered by pretty hedges and neat inelo- 
 sures, quite as well kept and as much in order as in 
 England : it is true the acacias instead of quickset 
 hedges, and the ranges of lofty purple mountains in 
 the distance, dispel the thought of similarity which 
 might otherwise arise, and the appearance of the 
 people, though more picturesque, is certainly not so 
 cleanly. For instance, I passed through one village 
 clean in nothing but its possession of an enormous 
 reservoir of sparkling water, round which, as at a fete, 
 sate numerous groups of women and children ; the 
 first washing linen, the latter paddling in the crj^stal 
 pool with naked legs and feet, and enjoying the 
 coolness as much as flocks of white ducks, their 
 companions. Some of the young girls who lay half 
 reclining on the edge of the basin, with hands list- 
 lessly employed with their linen, wore the pretty 
 circle of silver pins I had so much admired, with 
 the addition of two much larger, stuck across to 
 keep the luxuriant braids of hair in order. 
 
 The men who paused to gaze at us as we passed, 
 were good-looking and healthy, wearing high- 
 crowned hats and their coats hanging over their 
 shoulders in the approved brigand style ; but their 
 aspect was very peaceful and happy, as they leant 
 upon or supported their long light wicker baskets 
 destined to receive the mulberry leaves from the 
 neighbouring groves. The eflluvia from the houses 
 where silk-worms are kept made all the villages 
 unpleasant, and the stripped trees would have de- 
 
 l2 
 
148 APPROACH TO COMO. 
 
 stroyed all beauty but for the luxuriance of other 
 vegetation. 
 
 The country houses now began to assume a more 
 refined and less rural character : hanging gardens 
 filled with flowers, and terraces adorned with vases 
 and statues appeared at the sides of the road, and 
 soon the stately ivy-covered walls of the fine and 
 singular old town of Como came in view. 
 
 I know not why I had connected the idea of Como 
 with gardens and pleasure-houses and its lovely lake 
 alone, passing over the memory of its former import- 
 ance as the chief town of the powerful Comaschi ; 
 therefore, when for a considerable time we skirted 
 its grand old walls and saw its bristling towers rising 
 proudly and menacing from many a height, I was 
 quite surprised and most agreeably so, to find that 
 in the midst of scenes, unrivalled for refinement and J 
 beauty of the most graceful and elegant description, ^ 
 there existed a spot so grand, so severe, so strong, 
 and so antique as the shattered but still powerful- 
 looking town whose ancient gate we were now enter- 
 ing, one which had for many centuries braved its j 
 great and imperious neighbour Milan, and whose 
 sons were preeminent as the bravest of all the races 
 of the north of Italy. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 COMO. 
 
 " How stands Comum, that favourite scene of yours and mine ? 
 ivhat becomes of the pleasant villa, the vernal portico, the shady 
 3lane-tree walk, the crystal stream so agreeably winding along its 
 Eiowery banks, together with the charming Lake below, that serves 
 it once the purposes of use and beauty ?" 
 
 Pliny to Caninius Rufus. — Melmoth. 
 
 ::0M0 — THE DUOMO— THE BROLETTO — SAN FEDELE — ITALIAN 
 
 COURTESY MOONLIGHT — THE LAKE STEAMER — THE SHORES 
 
 — THE PALACES — THE OLIVE TREES— PLINY— THE VILLAS OF 
 TORNO— BALBIANO — THE LAKE — NESSO— THE MARGIN — THE 
 VILLAS— VAL del' INTELVIO — COLICO— STELVIO. 
 
 SiSMONDi fancifully likens the figure of the town 
 of Como to a crawfish, the mouth, being turned to 
 the extremity of the lake, forms its port, the two 
 Fauxbourgs of Vico and Coloniola spread forth their 
 arms on the two shores like the claws, the body is 
 stretched forth far into the plain but is kept in by 
 three heights, on each of which is placed a strong 
 castle, these are called Castelnovo, Baradello and 
 Carnesino, and to finish the resemblance, a long 
 suburb, curved between the eastern and southern 
 ends, will answer for the tail. 
 
 These details were not immediately apparent to 
 me as I entered the antique town, and found myself 
 on the little port crowded with pleasure-boats and 
 
150 
 
 COMO. 
 
 small fishing vessels. The sun shone with dazzling 
 brilliancy and every ripple of the blue lake glittered 
 with burnished gold— the pointed prows of the some- 
 what clumsy, but commodious boats bristled along 
 the shore and their gayly striped awning, shading 
 the seats and little table within, invited to an excur- 
 sion. Our inn, I'Angelo, was full of bustle, and all 
 wore an aspect of cheerfulness from the balcony of 
 our rooTn, which commanded a view of the small 
 harbour, guarded at its entrance by two pavilion- 
 towers and shutting out the rest of the beautiful 
 lake, as though the scenery beyond were too exqui- 
 site to be given to the view all at once. 
 
 The first sound I heard at Como was the music 
 of a bad guitar, accompanied by a very sweet female 
 voice, which soon drew a crowd beneath the hotel 
 window, and increased the noise and confusion oc- 
 casioned by the arrival of the diligence, bringing 
 fresh strangers to explore the beauties of these 
 shores. 
 
 I lost very little time before I set forth to explore 
 the curious old town, whose low arcades and antique 
 houses presented a more characteristic aspect than 
 that of any Italian town I had yet seen : most of 
 the streets are slovenly, and those near the quay ex- 
 tremely dirty, the best part is in the neighbourhood 
 of the Duomo, although there is no good row of 
 buildings anywhere, and but few mansions. Mean 
 little shops under shabby colonnades are the chief 
 feature, but nothing is remembered in the town, or 
 
THE DUOMO. 151 
 
 is worth notice before the strangely beautiful pile of 
 the cathedral and the singular fabric of the town- 
 hall clinging to its side. 
 
 New as this style of architecture was to me I 
 was puzzled to ascertain the date of the remarkable 
 construction before me. So many buildings in 
 France were formed on the models of Italian churches 
 and palaces in the time of Francis I. and Henry II., 
 that I was inclined, at first, to attribute no older a 
 date to all I saw, and to feel disappointed that all 
 was so modern. 
 
 The Duomo of Como was, however, begun in the 
 fourteenth and finished at the beginning of the six- 
 teenth century, although the cupola was not com- 
 pleted till 1722, and here may be seen much of the 
 original idea carried out by later architects and 
 sculptors. The facade is covered with ornament : 
 scrolls, inscriptions, figures, flowers, leaves, gar- 
 lands, vases are scattered up and down ; there is 
 wonderful variety, with a strange mixture of the 
 classic and romantic. Here the two statues of the 
 Plinys, erected by their proud fellow-citizens of 
 Como, are seated beneath lace-work canopies : here 
 the Magi are adoring the sacred babe in true Gothic 
 style : here crowd emblems of masonic mystery, and 
 here extend tattered scrolls of deep meaning. 
 
 The fine white marble pillars of entrance are of 
 various shapes, round and many sided, twisted and 
 fluted, some encrusted with wreathing flowers 
 springing from elaborately carved vases, some dotted 
 
152 THE DUOMO. 
 
 and scored witli involved j3atterns of eastern form : 
 others surrounded by cords and cables, and cut and 
 carved into a thousand zigzag and dentilated ap- 
 pearances, without being positively Saxon or Nor- 
 man. 
 
 The lateral doorways are beautiful, particularly 
 the northern, which is the very perfection of the re- 
 dundant Arabesque style, all birds and angels and 
 winged and twining things : but such doors as these 
 have parallels which can scarcely be said of the 
 effect of the grand facade, for it struck me as unlike 
 anything of its kind beheld elsewhere. 
 
 The pointed centre is surmounted by a fretted 
 turret ; at the two angles, edged with jagged orna- 
 ment, rise two little tourelles, tipped with figures 
 bearing flags. Other descending angles start from 
 these, and are terminated by new tourelles with 
 figures and pyramids. From these four towers 
 descend to the ground narrow square pilasters, 
 pierced in compartments with niches containing 
 figures about halfway down : the remaining niches 
 are filled with medallions and mystical shapes of all 
 sorts, fountains, vines, bouquets, castles, churches 
 and masonic riddles. 
 
 Above the principal entrance is a row of statues 
 in niches, surmounted with rich tabernacle work, 
 canopies and a fine bold medallion, all surrounded 
 by a corded circular arch. Above this is a fine and 
 very richly carved circular window, above and at 
 each side of which are canopies filled with statues. 
 
THE BROLETTO. 153 
 
 Some of the immensely long windows have blunted 
 extremities, some are slightly pointed, and the pat- 
 terns round all are very rich. 
 
 There is no counting the little towers crowned by 
 statues, which rise from every projection at the sides, 
 and the huge dome capped by its own peculiar tur- 
 ret, the largest of all, completes the building. 
 
 Strange as this mixed architecture appears, it is 
 still enhanced by the odd construction close beside 
 it. This is the Broletto, or town-hall, built of 
 striped dark red and white marble in layers. The 
 pillars which support the lower pointed arches seem 
 sunk into the ground, and it is so close to the cathe- 
 dral that it seems to form a part of its vv^alls. The 
 date is 1215, but it looks even older, and is a most 
 extraordinary edifice. The usual ringhiera appears 
 on the first floor, and the form of the circular arched 
 windows is the same as at Monza, but this Broletto 
 is of much greater extent than that of the palace of 
 Barbarossa as it now appears. There is no beauty 
 in its aspect, but it is extremely curious, and conse- 
 quently interesting. 
 
 The very acme, however, of the curious and gro- 
 tesque is to be found in the facade of the church of 
 San Fedele, a fabric of the time of the Longobardi. 
 There is one door of entrance so extraordinary that 
 I cannot imagine the odd ornaments could have been 
 originally designed to be placed there ; I rather 
 think the present pillars must once have been 
 friezes running along the tops of columns in a 
 
154 
 
 SAN FED KM 
 
 pagan temple. Beside a rudely formed door- way, 
 simple enough to have served the Druids, stands a 
 huge projecting block, forming one side of a kind of 
 porch. This is carved all over in compartments 
 apparently without connexion. Clinging to a pillar 
 is a writhing serpent* with wings, who is suffering 
 from the attack of a huge griffin with an eagle's 
 beak and a bear's body, who is mercilessly tearing 
 his prey. Elegant arabesques surround these 
 figures, and beyond sits enthroned under an antique 
 arch the figure of a monarch or hero, quite careless 
 qf the charivari which must be made close to his 
 ears by the belligerent monsters, his neighbours. 
 
 Altogether nothing can be more inexplicable, and 
 I longed for the riddle to be read by some modern 
 Benedetto Giovio, but found none. 
 
 Benedetto, the historian of Como, lies in the 
 Cathedral, where there are several other monuments 
 and a few good pictures, which the dim light does 
 not allow to be seen. The two animals, called lions, 
 which always adorn the entrances of Italian churches, 
 are placed in the interior of the Duomo, but it is 
 possible that they formerly stood outside, as it is 
 
 * Perhaps this is intended to represent the strange creature 
 which, tradition says, is to be found browsing at the bottom of the 
 Lake : or it may be, that the superstition itself arose from the 
 mysterious representation. It is said that fearfully shaped hzards 
 of enormous length are sometimes seen, by moonhght, in the 
 clefts of the hills above Como ; may not one of these animals of 
 San Fedele be a correct portrait of their grim figures ? 
 
ITALIAN COURTESY. 155 
 
 evident that considerable alterations have taken 
 place in the piazza beyond. 
 
 In the glare of a bright sun the little port of 
 Como, in spite of its glassy water and its tower- 
 crowned hills, is far from attractive, and any attempt 
 to walk along the margin of its pool is disappointing, 
 for sheds for boat-building, besides litters in- 
 numerable, prevent all passing beyond a circum- 
 scribed limit, although, from the inn, we had 
 imagined a stroll would be charming. My com- 
 panion wished to make a sketch of the harbour, but 
 it was found difficult to select a spot sufficiently 
 clean to allow of a few minutes' pause beneath the 
 ruined, antique arcades opposite the water. 
 
 Italian courtesy, which is always awake, would 
 not permit our standing in the street, and the baker, 
 his wife, and friend, at whose dingy portal we 
 stopped, all interested themselves to procure us 
 chairs. The action was the same as I had often 
 met with in France, but the manner was character- 
 istically different. There is none of that easy famili- 
 arity, mixed with wondering curiosity, amongst the 
 Italians, which one always meets with in the lively 
 French. They are equally courteous and obliging, 
 but have more dignity and shew more deference in 
 their style of offering a civility : they are graver 
 and more gentle, and do not intrude on those whom 
 they make their temporary guests. 
 
 We accepted the seats against our will, for we 
 soon found the neighbourhood of our civil friend's 
 
156 MOONLIGHT. 
 
 domicile, by which a black gutter ran from an alley 
 near, fiir from pleasing: we excused ourselves 
 therefore from further stay, as the evening was 
 drawing in, and parted from our hosts with a pro- 
 mise to return hereafter. 
 
 Moonlight soon entirely changed the scene, and 
 turned all the defects of the port of Como into beau- 
 ties: then rose the dark mountains, grand and 
 solemn, gemmed with silver light : then the high 
 antique towers and pointed arcades looked majestic 
 and palace-like : numerous gliding boats shot over 
 the transparent waves, the firefly lights they bore 
 glimmering in the blue depths : myriads of stars 
 appeared far and near, like a caravan of pilgrims 
 approaching the shrine of that enthroned saint whose 
 glories streamed along the clear sky, and touched, 
 like faith, every object it shone on with lustre and 
 beauty not their own. 
 
 The only drawback to this lovely scene was, that 
 there was no solitude there. Not a creature in 
 Como seemed to think it advisable to go to bed, and 
 throughout the night a chorus of voices was heard, 
 talking and singing, and laughing and screaming, 
 till I found my admiration give place to weariness, 
 and retired to a back room where, if there was no 
 moonlight prospect, I at least found quiet . and re- 
 pose. 
 
 The next morning w^e departed in the steamer, 
 which now renders the voyage of the lake easy : 
 though we did not intend returning to Como that 
 
THE LAKE STEAMER. 157 
 
 (lay, we took advantage of this pleasant mode of con- 
 veyance to become acquainted with the lake through- 
 out its whole extent, from Como at one end to Colico 
 at the other. Nothing could exceed the beauty of 
 the weather : warm, without being sultry, with a 
 soft gentle breeze, a cloudless sky, and a brilliant 
 sun, which was shaded from us by a pretty striped 
 awning, drawn over the graceful and commodious 
 steam -boat, in which we found many gaily dressed 
 passengers prepared for a day of enjoyment on the 
 most enchanting of all fairy seas in the world. 
 
 The motion of the pretty vessel was quite unfelt, 
 as we glided swiftly along the heavenly blue waters. 
 At first the shores are pressed together, and the moun- 
 tains are rather low, but are dotted with villas from 
 the utmost heights down to the water's edge. 
 Every ten minutes, as we receded from Como, the 
 town and its towers looked more picturesque, till it 
 disappeared, and new charms succeeded. I soon 
 discovered, beautiful as it first seemed, that the real 
 enchantment of the scenery was but begun in this 
 neighbourhood, and was becoming every moment 
 more and more powerful. 
 
 Marble terraces rose from the waters with their 
 trellices of grape vine extending in graceful lines far 
 up the gentle sloping hills. A soft feathery tree, 
 of a tender pale green, waved its boughs every here 
 and there above the emerald leaves of the rich vines, 
 and gave peculiar and contrasted beauty to the tints. 
 This I found was the olive, the first I had ever 
 
158 THE OLIVE TREES. 
 
 seen, and most agreeably was I impressed with this 
 earliest acquaintance, for I had prepared myself to 
 see a stunted ugly shrub with a hue of the sallow, 
 for so they are said to appear in the south of France 
 where I had not been. On the western side of the 
 Pyrenees, olives are not seen, except in the pages 
 of Mrs. Ratcliffe, who presses 
 
 " trees of all growth and flowers of every hue" 
 
 into her charming romances, those unrivalled pic- 
 tures, wonderfully correct to nature in general, but 
 mistaken occasionally in local descriptions. 
 
 Those who know Italy well may smile at my de- 
 light on first beholding the olive, but I imagine 
 every one must feel the same pleasureable sensations 
 on becoming acquainted with scenes and objects 
 familiar in idea, but, though long desired and 
 fancied, unknown before. I seemed now to have 
 entered Italy indeed : here were her orange groves, 
 her citron bowers, her festooned vines, her terraced 
 gardens, and her olive fields : here was her Paradise 
 of roses, for roses clustered on every bough, roses 
 blushed in every wave that rippled to the marble 
 stairs of her crowding palaces, roses twined over 
 every pillar of the delicate temples which threw their 
 snowy reflection on the waters : as in an eastern 
 garden, 
 
 " the cypress and the myrtle, like the lover and the beloved 
 grew side by side." 
 
 It seemed to me that the vale of Cashmeer, 
 
 ** with its roses, the brightest that earth ever gave," 
 
J3ALBIAN0. 159 
 
 was a fable to the gardens of the lake of Como, and 
 that all the delights that poets dream of were con- 
 centred in that delicious spot. 
 
 The beautiful world around me gained nothing 
 by association, for I was far from those who would 
 have entered into the delights of the scene with me, 
 and shared all the enthusiasm of the moment. I 
 was surrounded by strangers, to most of whom the 
 place seemed familiar and its charms habitual, and 
 no communicated reminiscence of poetry or history, 
 no indulgence in a passing vision of romance or 
 sentiment, such as are sure to arise between old 
 familiar spirits, enhanced the enjoyment of the time. 
 
 Nature produced her own unassisted eflfect, and 
 the grace of art shone forth in all its unaided re- 
 finement. 
 
 We continued to pass numerous beautiful bays and 
 terrace gardens, with their villas with musical names. 
 
 There is a dark, precipitous rock, rising boldly 
 from the waters in a secluded bay, sheltered from 
 the sun and wind, rugged with caverns and black 
 with cypress woods, here, it is said, Pliny, the clas- 
 sic spirit of the lake lived, and here he mused and 
 lingered out many a summer day in that charming 
 retreat which attracts the eye from the gayer spots 
 around. 
 
 The two villas of Torno are thus described by 
 their fortunate possessor. 
 
 " On this shore I have many villas, hut two as they please 
 me most, so principally engage me. 
 
 " The one, placed on rocks after the Baian fashion, looks over the 
 
160 VILLAS OF TORNO. 
 
 lake, the other, also in the Baian manner, touches its waters : 
 for which reason I am inclined to call the higher Tragedy, 
 because she is supported on buskins, the lower Comedy because 
 her feet are sandaled. Each has its peculiar charms, which, to 
 the possessor of both, from their very diversity, are the more 
 attractive. One enjoys the lake more closely, the other more 
 extensively : this embraces in its prospect one bay only of a soft 
 circling outline, that with its lofty promontory divides two. One 
 commands an extended line of coast which, stretching to a great 
 distance, appears like a school of equestrian exercise ; from the 
 other the gentle curve of the shpre forms a spacious and sheltered 
 portico for pedestrian recreation. The higher feels not the 
 waves, they break at the feet of the lower : from that above you 
 can look down upon the fishermen, from that below you can 
 partake the sport yourself and throw the hook from your chamber, 
 nay almost from your bed, as from a boat. 
 
 " These united attractions have induced me to make to each of 
 them additions in which they are separately deficient. 
 
 " How is my friend employed ? is it in the pleasures of study, 
 or in those of the field ? or does he unite both on the banks of our 
 favourite Larius. The fish in that noble lake will supply you with 
 sport of that kind, as the woods that surround it will aflford you 
 game, while the solemnity of that sequestered scene will at the 
 same time dispose your mind to contemplation.*' 
 
 Thus writes Pliny to his friend Caninius, who had 
 a villa on the lake ; and he continues, when absent, 
 to regret the ties which keep him far away from 
 those scenes to which both he and his companions 
 seem so much attached. 
 
 In another letter he says : — 
 
 " I was lately at Alsium* (now Alzia, near Como), where my 
 wife's mother has a villa which once belonged to Verginius Rufus." 
 
 * He was extremely fond of this retirement, and used to 
 call it " the nest of his old age." 
 
BALBIANO. 161 
 
 Virgil sings the praises of this beautiful spot, and 
 Claudian celebrates it. 
 
 The boat neared and passed the promontory of Bal- 
 biano, which may be called the guardian of the lake ; 
 after this point all its beauties are fully developed. 
 
 A cluster of temple-like villas crown the height 
 and descend by marble terraces to the extreme mar- 
 gin of the water, the last row of white columns dip- 
 ping their bases into the crystal mirror which sends 
 back their reflection. As we receded from it the 
 promontory took the resemblance of an island and 
 appeared to stand out directly from the shore. Bal- 
 biano is seen, a lovely and conspicuous object, from a 
 great distance, and formed the chief point in the 
 charming scene which afterwards delighted me from 
 the soft retreatof Bellaggio. 
 
 Villa after villa is pointed out as the bark glides 
 on, each with some striking charm of its own, each 
 inviting to land, each suggesting ideas of enjoy- 
 ment and happiness, such as few scenes can really 
 afford in the uncertain passage of human life. 
 
 '* The painted flowers, the trees, upshooting high. 
 The trembUng groves, the crystal running by," 
 
 continued the charming illusion, into which all 
 poets, both ancient and modern, might well fall, 
 while skimming the surface of such a lake in such 
 sunshine as I was favoured with, during the whole 
 time of my propitious visit to these fairy regions. 
 
 At the promontory of Bellaggio the lake divides 
 into three arms, one leading to Como,one to Lecco, 
 
 M 
 
162 THE VILLAS. 
 
 and one to Colico, whither our course was bent. 
 The beauty of the shore at Bellaggio is unspeakable; 
 the gardens of the villa Melzi and its groves slope 
 down to the water's edge, and the lofty terraces of 
 Serbeloni look far over the enchanting prospect : 
 the pretty inn, to which we were to return in the 
 afternoon, was pointed out to me amidst its blush- 
 ing roses and twining vines, and I rejoiced in the 
 prospect of such a sojourn. Meanwhile Bellaggio 
 was passed, and the broad arm which conducts to 
 Lecco, disclosing scenes which seemed to rival 
 even those we had already seen, as we glided swiftly 
 on. Nesso appeared in its fairy nook, half concealed 
 in perfumed shade, and the elegant villa of the 
 Queen of Song, the generous and noble-minded 
 Pasta, who delights to share the advantages she has 
 derived from her genius, with young aspirants for 
 the fame in which, as well as in worldly goods she 
 is so rich. The palace once belonging to a royal 
 exile, one of many of her class, whom misfortune, 
 imprudence, and the ills that wait on those born in 
 too high an aery to hope for quiet enjoyment, had 
 made a victim — her beautiful palace looked all joy 
 and sunshine, and there, perhaps, she was happy 
 for a time, in spite of evil tongues and civil traitors, 
 who filled her rose gardens with scorpions, and 
 watched her careless follies to turn them into 
 crimes ! — It is impossible to pass the villa d'Este 
 without a sigh of pity for her whose name must 
 
 " sleep in the shade, 
 Where cold and unhonoured her rehes are laid." 
 
VAL INTELVIO. 163 
 
 One point, where the rocks on that side the lake 
 are peculiarly rugged and of singular forms, is 
 remarkable as having a reputation for producing 
 from its neighbouring village of Argenio the most 
 learned persons of the country. I was gravely 
 assured, that the very shepherds of the valley, called 
 Val Intel vio, are never seen without a book in their 
 hands, and that most of the great men in various 
 departments of literature and art, have come from 
 this favoured spot. Certain it is that the place has 
 a desolate dreary aspect, suitable to the hardships 
 that wait on genius, and contrasted in a most 
 striking manner with the cultivated and beautiful 
 shore, exactly opposite the small creek that separates 
 the two promontories. 
 
 This valley stretches far away, and communicates 
 with the Lake of Lugano. 
 
 The higher mountains now rise in great majesty, 
 and a snowy range extend their white arms, em- 
 bracing the waters where the Adda enters their 
 bosom from the Valteline. 
 
 We reached Colico, a humble little town at the 
 foot of Monte Legnone, and as the steam-boat 
 pauses there for some time, previous to its daily 
 return to Como, we landed. 
 
 Amongst the snowy peaks and domes at the 
 extremity of the lake, numerous depressions may be 
 observed where the darker shadows indicate the 
 valleys which branch off in different directions. On 
 one hand, the opening mountains shew where far 
 M 2 
 
IGl STELVIO — THE VALTELINE. 
 
 beyond, but concealed by its crowding attendants, 
 the Stelvio rises in solitary magnificence, and the 
 deep clefts beneath point to the pass which conducts 
 to its glorious summit. On the other, the glittering 
 snows tell where the Splugen invites the traveller to 
 explore the charming valleys, and dare the bold 
 heights where he presides, and a whole army of icy 
 guards stand at the very edge of the summer waters, 
 strangely contrasted with its tranquil aspect. 
 
 This is 
 
 " the region, this the soil, the cHme," 
 where the almost magical achievement of Marshal 
 Macdonald, and his army, of the passage of the 
 Splugen, so amazed and scared the inhabitants of 
 Chiavenna and Sondrio, who thought the ice-covered 
 mountains and their snowy whirlwinds, sufficient to 
 appal the stoutest hearts, and keep the most daring 
 enemy from the valley of the Valteline, at such a 
 season as that in which the descent was accom- 
 plished. 
 
 "Achievements such as these," says a contem-^ 
 porary historian, " appear impossible, and more so 
 to the actors than the spectators : neither would pos 
 terity credit them, if our own age, (so fruitful ii 
 narrative) could not bring a host of witnesses t( 
 verify them, for neither ancient nor modern histor] 
 records any exploits more wonderful than this, or 
 truly Herculean." 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 RETURN — THE TRANCISCANS — THE BOAT — SOMARIVA— TRADI- 
 TION — THE GARDENS — THE INN AT BELLAGGIO— STORMS — 
 VILLA MELZI — BEATRICE — SERBELONI — THE BAMBINO— THE 
 
 CONCERT — EFFECTS ON THE LAKE THE ROCK OF COLUNGO — 
 
 VARENNA — THE PARADISE — THE GRIM CHATELAIN — STELVIO 
 PASS. 
 
 CoLico has no attractions in itself, and is a dirty 
 miserable little place, quite out of keeping with 
 the beauties near it. We therefore returned to the 
 vessel, where it was extremely agreeable to sit on 
 the deck while we waited till the passengers were 
 assembled, and, shaded by the pretty awning, to 
 take our pastoral refreshment of fruit and bread, 
 with the rippling waters at our feet, and the snowy 
 mountains heaped one on the other in our view, 
 and reflected in the blue transparent mirror, where 
 for thousands of years, they have bent over as if to 
 gaze into the secrets below. 
 
 Suddenly disturbing the extreme calm, a light 
 refreshing breeze sprung up and relieved the scorch- 
 ing effect of the sun's, rays, which for the last hour 
 had been too intense, and we set forth again on our 
 return. Like messengers sent out from the snowy 
 summits across the deep blue sky, delicate white 
 
166 UETURN -THE FRANCISCANS. 
 
 clouds came floating up, which thi'ckening, gathered 
 far along the peaks and remained stationary. A deep 
 sigh along the shore awoke the breathless stillness 
 that reigned, and then came a sudden flapping of the 
 canvass which was a warning attended to in an in- 
 stant. The awning was taken down without loss of 
 time, and the spirits abroad seemed to exult by a 
 long low growl, to see that their power was not dis- 
 regarded. 
 
 No storm, however, then came on, but we sped 
 swiftly along, pursued, as it seemed, by a host of 
 beautiful clouds, which now shaded and now were 
 dispersed by the struggling sun, the heat of which 
 was still intense. 
 
 Ma il vento e amore e il mar fede non ave : 
 Altri seguendo il lusingar fallace 
 Per notturno seren gia sciolse audace, 
 Che ora k sommerso o va perduto o pave. 
 
 On board I was entertained by observing two 
 Franciscan friars, in long and ample woollen robes 
 fastened with a cord from which their rosaries de- 
 pended. Their hoods were thrown back and dis- 
 played their shining shaven crowns and good-looking 
 faces. One was particularly tall and stout, with a 
 cheerful good-humoured expression, somewhat jovial : 
 he seemed full of jokes, to judge by the laughter at 
 his end of the vessel. The other sat apart, and was 
 silent and solemn : his head was fine and his features 
 expressive, and bore a singular resemblance to a head 
 1 saw almost immediately after of St. John the Baptist 
 
THE BOAT. 167 
 
 by Albano, in the Soraariva Palace. Such heads 
 are by no means uncommon in Italy and suit better 
 with the severe costume than the comfortable face 
 of the companion friar. 
 
 The breeze was very fresh as the steamer paused 
 a moment opposite to the shore of Cadenabbia, where 
 in the midst of the lake a little boat with hoops to 
 support awnings and with gay red cushions, lay 
 dancing on the waves awaiting our return by appoint- 
 ment. We hastened to enter it, and observed at a 
 distance several other public ones approachingin order 
 to take passengers ashore at this point. We found 
 however, to our surprise, that our boat was instantly 
 taken possession of, and numerous uninvited guests, 
 amongst whom were the jolly and the solemn Fran- 
 ciscans, had quietly seated themselves on the benches. 
 
 Our boatmen now intimated to the strangers that 
 this was a private boat, hired some hours before, and 
 we then found that the steamer, which was already 
 nearly out of sight, had taken advantage of our op- 
 portunity to get rid of its freight as soon as possible, 
 as the symptoms of a coming storm were not to be 
 mistaken. 
 
 We accordingly lingered a little, till the pubHc 
 boats came up, and we then saw, or seemed to see, 
 every one quit us for their own destination, and we 
 pursued our way towards a beckoning palace, whose 
 glittering marble steps dipped into the laving waters, 
 and seemed to invite us to hasten towards one of the 
 most lovely temples that art had ever placed amongst 
 the most enchanting scenes of nature. 
 
168 THE SOLEMN FRANCISCAN. 
 
 Our pretty bark glided gently to the land and 
 stopped at the foot of the marble steps of the Palazzo 
 Somariva. There was a perfect blaze of roses on 
 each side as I slowly ascended to the several platforms, 
 where fountains were throwing up their glittering 
 waters amongst a wilderness of sweets. The marble 
 balustrades were all draperied with over-hanging 
 rose-branches, crimson, white and pink, and nothing 
 could exceed the delight of resting awhile from the 
 still increasing heat on the brink of a fountain, with 
 the wild waters splashing and murmuring deliciously 
 all round, in the thick shade of the arching, luxuriant 
 shrubs. 
 
 As I looked down towards the lake, I saw to my 
 surprise the figure of the solemn Franciscan stealing 
 noiselessly along, beneath the lowest terrace of the 
 Palazzo ; whether he emerged from our own boat, 
 where he had been seated invisibly, or from some 
 other equally invisible, I could not understand. We 
 had apparently parted in the centre of the lake, yet 
 there he was, with his hood thrown back, his eyes 
 on the ground, and his solemn pace 
 
 "sober, stedfast, and demure," 
 
 giving not a glance to the upper world and its 
 roses, or tlie fountains warbling as they flowed— bv 
 which I was seated. 
 
 We walked through the fine halls, all marble and 
 with sculptured walls, shewing the triumphs of 
 Alexander in magnificent bas-relief: this fine work 
 of Thorwaldsen is as a whole too splendid to be 
 
SOMARIVA. 169 
 
 criticised, and I could not but be annoyed with my- 
 self for being disagreeably struck by the flocks of 
 ill-made sheep introduced into the subject : one 
 seems a model of another, and there is no sort of 
 variety in the attitudes of the silly multitude which 
 crowd the frieze. 
 
 Here is the last masterpiece of Canova. the Pala- 
 medes ; and his charming Cupid and Psyche with 
 all their ballet graces, which I had often seen before 
 in Paris. 
 
 The palace is built in exquisite taste, and there are 
 many fine pictures and statues in the elegantly 
 formed rooms, which have been long untenanted, 
 owing to the deaths of the last two proprietors within 
 a short time of each other. There are, it seems, five 
 claimants of the property, and these heirs, being 
 impatient for their respective shares, have hastily 
 concluded a bargain which has transferred this 
 lovely place to the Princess Carlotta of Piemont, 
 who will shortly take possession of her treasure, 
 acquired for the insignificant sum of one million of 
 francs, although five was thought an adequate price 
 for all the miracles of art that its walls enclose, and 
 which were accumulated in the course of years by 
 the Count de Somariva at incredible expense. 
 
 There is an old belief, darkly hinted at by the boat- 
 men of the lake, that this palace and domain have lain 
 under a ban since the period when money, suddenly 
 acquired, purchased the lordship. Always beautiful 
 the dwelling must have been from its position, and 
 
170 TRADITION OF SOMARIVA. 
 
 always charming must have been its gardens and its 
 prospects, but when the last scion of the ancient ruined 
 family who had called it theirs for centuries, lived 
 there secluded, it was not so grand, so gay, nor so 
 richly adorned as it now is, for the widow had little 
 left of her once large fortune, to enable her to keep 
 it up with proper dignity. 
 
 It is whispered that cunning lawyers made the 
 arrangements which gave over the right to the new 
 possessor, and that less than justice was done to the 
 daughter of a once powerful house, which was 
 extinct in her, when she retired into obscurity to 
 die. 
 
 The sun of royalty now shone upon Somariva, 
 for it will not change its poetical name, and it is to 
 be hoped all will be prosperous with the owners in 
 future : assuredly such an abode should not be as- 
 sociated with vexations or cares ; it seems rather the 
 summer residence of gentle idleness and pleasure. 
 
 The terraced groves and gardens are so delicious 
 that it is difficult to quit them when once entered, 
 and I wandered from one bower of pomegranate 
 and orange to another, from one jasmine-covered 
 trellice to the next inviting terrace, all flowering 
 myrtle and waving acacia, with a thousand nameless 
 shrubs bending down with blossoms, till I reached a 
 pine grove on a height surrounded by trees of the 
 most luxuriant growth, where a whole concert of 
 nightingales, concealed amidst the thickest shade, 
 made the air re-echo with their melodious rivalry. 
 
THE GARDENS. 171 
 
 I never beheld any thing so exquisite as this se- 
 cluded grove of tall pines, whose graceful stems were 
 twined to an immense height with clustering and 
 clinging crimson roses. As I lingered here in a 
 sort of enchantment, a sudden cloud came over the 
 bright blue sky above the pine tops, and a deep 
 long roar of thunder travelling up the cloudy 
 heavens, near and unmistakeable, proclaimed that 
 the threatened storm was coming. A bright flash 
 swept along the walk from end to end. A few large 
 drops fell clattering and clashing amongst the large 
 magnolia leaves, and the perfumes of the shaken 
 branches, which swayed to the awakened breeze, 
 loaded the air with overpowering odours. 
 
 On emerging from the grove to a more open ter- 
 race I came at once upon a magnificent scene. 
 From one mountain to the other, spanning the lake 
 entirely with its many-coloured girdle, appeared a 
 vivid rainbow. A hundred little fleecy white-clouds 
 rose from behind the heights and hurried up into 
 the sky, forming a canopy which grew darker and 
 darker, and sent down other clouds, messengers of 
 threatening aspect, obscuring the sapphire depths 
 which still shone in the bright sunlight. 
 
 Louder and louder growled the echoing thunder, 
 and, as if pleased with the deep base of the under- 
 song, the chorus of nightingales grew wilder and 
 more thrilling, as the pattering drops descended near 
 their sheltered nests at intervals. 
 
 Much to my regret I was warned that although 
 
172 THE INN AT BELLAGGIO. 
 
 the opposite shore appeared so near, it was two 
 miles across the lake to Bellaggio, and should the 
 storm increase and the wind rise there might be 
 some peril to our frail vessel. I would willingly 
 have run the risk, in spite of the many stories I had 
 heard of the effect of sudden squalls on these waters, 
 and would fain have delayed still longer amongst 
 the most enchanting scenes of a fairy land such as I 
 had never even dreamt of, but it was absolutely 
 necessary to attend to the warnings of the experienced, 
 and I re-entered the boat, whose little sail, before 
 we had reached the centre of the lake, was, as if by 
 magic, lowered in a moment, as a gust swept by us 
 which set the bark dancing and trembling on the 
 troubled waves. Purple and orange and crimson 
 lines now streaked the sky, and the rich bright 
 blue was nearly obscured ; flashes of lightning 
 played swiftly along the surface of the waters, and 
 darted from openings above the darkened rocks on 
 the shore. 
 
 But the little promontory of Bellaggio was gained, 
 and we disembarked amidst the affectionate greet- 
 ings of the hostess of the quiet rural vine-trelliced 
 inn, which had been chosen by the director of our 
 travels in preference to the hotel at Cadenabbia, 
 which is noisy, and whose proprietors have a repu- 
 tation for being somewhat imposing. 
 
 Whatever may be the merits or demerits of the 
 rival inn on the opposite shore, we could not have 
 chosen better than this charming retreat, where we 
 
STORMS. 173' 
 
 soon found ourselves installed for several days in 
 neat pretty apartments, looking on the lovely lake 
 and mountains. 
 
 We had reason to congratulate ourselves on 
 having reached the shore in time, for the long 
 threatened storm, slow but sure, now steadily took 
 possession of the sky. 
 
 " The mists boiled up amongst the mountains ;" 
 the 
 
 " big rain came dancing to the earth :" 
 
 the thunder woke a ceaseless echo from every height, 
 and broad and continuous sheets of lightning poured 
 from every laden purple cloud : still the sun shone 
 brightly, and gleamed golden on the lake on the 
 peaks and amongst the waving groves : for several 
 hours this commotion of the elements lasted, and 
 grand and glorious was its effect. So absorbed was 
 I by it that I was startled to find, on re-entering 
 the sitting room, after having for some time enjoyed 
 its beauties, that the shutters of that apartment were 
 closed, and the table covered with lights, in order 
 that the vivid flashes might be less visible. 
 
 It is certainly a sad infirmity to be so affected by 
 a storm as to be unable to profit by its splendours, 
 and enjoy the grandest sight in nature, when the 
 might and majesty of the jarring elements manifest 
 themselves in scenes so sublimely beautiful as these 
 lovely Italian lakes present. As we had one of these 
 storms almost every evening for a month, I was 
 
174 THE VILLA MELZT. 
 
 furnished with constantly recurring pleasure, savage 
 though it were, and those of our party who could 
 not take the same delight in such wild doings, were 
 as continually plagued, to their, no doubt, great 
 mortification. 
 
 From the terrace balcony bordered with vines at 
 the charming inn at Bellaggio, a most enchanting and 
 extensive view of the arms of the lake is obtained, 
 the promontory of Balbiano with its descending 
 palaces, comes clearly out of the blue waters and all 
 the outlines of beautiful mountains wave along the 
 sky in varied grandeur : a continual change of 
 beauty takes place in the scene, as sunlight, storm, or 
 moonlight affects it. Somariva's perfumed groves 
 and thick woods, climbing far up the hills, shine in 
 the waters opposite, and the gardens of the Villa Melzi 
 and the Serbeloni surround and skirt the delicious 
 spot. While on the other hand towards Lecco the 
 waters stretch away into scenes of singular beauty. 
 
 I passed one long silent sultry summer day in 
 the gardens of Melzi, under the shade of acacias as 
 large as oaks and spreading myrtles and magnolias, 
 amidst groves of tropical trees and plants all breath- 
 ing perfume. The orange trees do not however grow 
 in the ground, nor are they so fine here as many I 
 have seen in France : the odours they exhale are 
 always exquisite, and there are so many arranged on 
 the terraces in pots that the air is laden with their 
 charming sighs. 
 
 The grounds are beautifully laid out : 
 
 " Fresh flowers in wide parterres and shady walks between," 
 
VILLA SERBELONI. 175 
 
 and busts, statues, and temples, seem here natural 
 accompaniments to the groves. 
 
 The water ripples at the foot of these gardens, and 
 the ear is soothed with the soft sound of passing oars 
 as light skiffs move by. I sat in a pretty pavilion, 
 fitted up with sofas and chairs placed in one of the 
 many charming retreats, and enjoyed to its full ex- 
 tent the dolcefar Jiiente, which it is so easy to learn 
 to appreciate in Italy. Occasionally the silent leaves 
 would rustle with faint murmur, a few notes from an 
 awakened bird would startle the stillness ; 
 
 " While freshened from the wave the Zephyr flew." 
 
 A few straggling parties strolled into this lovely 
 retreat while I lingered there, and the graceful head 
 dress of the young girls, their silver pins glittering 
 in the sun, or a blossom of pomegranate placed 
 amidst their shining black hair, not a little em- 
 bellished the scene. 
 
 One resting place beneath the trees and close to 
 the rippling lake, pleased me particularl}^ ; a well 
 executed group representing Dante and Beatrice 
 adorned the centre of the walk, near which seats were 
 placed at distances, and as I took mine on the white 
 marble steps of the pedestal I read these lines of the 
 immortal bard engraved in golden characters : 
 
 " E quella donna ohe Dio mi menava 
 Disse muta pensier pensa ch'io sono 
 Presso a coivi ch'ogni torto disgrazia 
 lo mi rivolzi all amoroso suono del mio conforto.*' 
 
 It is equally enjoyable to wander in the groves 
 
176 GABRIEL SERBELONI. 
 
 of Serbeloni, where the view is finer, and the 
 terraces ** de toute beaute." 
 
 The family of Serbeloni is of great antiquity, and 
 is even derived from a knight of fame, Cerdiibellius, 
 who commanded the Spaniards in the time of 
 Scipio Africanus. It was divided into three branches, 
 the eldest of which flourished at Milan. A daughter 
 of this race, Cecilia, was married into the illustrious 
 house of Medici, and one of her daughters was the 
 mother of that excellent saint. Carlo Borromeo. 
 
 Several great warriors have proceeded from this 
 root : the Marquis of Marignan, son of Cecilia, was 
 the greatest captain of his age, and Gabriel Serbe- 
 loni his cousin, equalled him in fame and bravery. 
 Gabriel distinguished himself in the wars of Charles 
 the Fifth, and it was he who took Saluces in Pied- 
 mont for the emperor; he accompanied the Duke 
 of Alva in many of his expeditions, and being a 
 great engineer, was usually sent before the army to 
 make the roads ready. He was at the battle of 
 Lepanto, captain-general of. artillery — that battle 
 renowned in story, and the more renowned because 
 the immortal Cervantes lost his good left hand 
 there. He was, like the poet, made prisoner by the 
 Turks, and afterwards exchanged for thirty-six 
 Turkish officers who had been taken at Lepanto : 
 as he had given the infidels much trouble, repulsing 
 them no less than fourteen times before they took 
 the citadel he defended at Tunis, they resolved that 
 his country should buy him dearly. 
 
GABRIEL SERBELONI. 177 
 
 The return of Gabriel to his native city in 1575, 
 was a signal for public rejoicings, he governed there 
 for two years, braving the plague, from which the 
 actual governor d'Aimonte, fled. He joined Don 
 Juan of Austria in the Netherlands, with two 
 thousand brave Milanese. The heroic Don Juan 
 loved him extremely, and always called him father. 
 To Gabriel the prince gave the care of constructing 
 the citadel of Namur, and it was at that time that 
 they both fell sick, so that the works which Serbe- 
 loni superintended, could not advance. Don Juan 
 was then only thirty-three, and Gabriel past 
 seventy, yet the prince died and the old soldier 
 recovered, contrary to the predictions of all the 
 assembled physicians but one. 
 
 The citadel of Antwerp was built by him, and to 
 his great knowledge and valour may be attributed 
 most of the conquests in the Netherlands. 
 
 A brother of Gabriel was also a great warrior, 
 but remarkable for his excessive cruelty to the Pro- 
 testants in Piedmont and the south of France. In 
 the 'good work' of extermination and punishment 
 he was ably assisted by the Counts of Somariva 
 and Susa. 
 
 Who would imagine that those lords who owned 
 such lovely peaceful villas as Serbeloni and Soma- 
 riva, could know what cruelty and persecution 
 meant ! 
 
 The enchantments of Bellaggio, offer altogether 
 
 . N 
 
178 iHE spille. 
 
 the very perfection of beauty, and a whole summer 
 passed on the margin of that lovely lake would not 
 be long enough to enjoy all it can give. 
 
 As I was sitting at my window, on the terrace at 
 the inn of Bellaggio, a young girl came to bring me 
 a message, whom I detained in order to question 
 her about her beautiful hair and its ornaments. 
 I suggested that it must take a long time every 
 morning, to arrange those spille round the head so 
 carefully, but was answered that the event occurred 
 only once a week, when an artist visited all the 
 damsels who required his aid and decorated them for 
 the Sunday's fete. I exclaimed in amazement, that 
 they must surely be injured and displaced if they 
 were not removed at night, but my smiling infor- 
 mant assured me that they were very careful and 
 never lay down on them, resting their heads on 
 their hands while they slept. 
 
 Any thing more uncomfortable I could not con- 
 ceive, and could scarcely after this information look 
 at them without a painful sensation. This is indeed 
 the very triumph of vanity, to sacrifice sleep and 
 ease in a warm climate to appearance ! and when 
 one considers that every other part of the dress of 
 these women is slovenly, the fact is more re- 
 markable still. 
 
 The chief female attendant at this hotel was the 
 heiress of the property j her uncle and aunt are old 
 people, and shortly intend to retire, selling the 
 house, which it is to be feared will cease to be one of 
 
BAMBINO. 179 
 
 public entertainment ; we were told the damsel 
 would be worth seeking for : 
 
 " I tell you he that can lay hold on her 
 Will have the chinks." 
 
 She was tall and stately, very pretty but pale and 
 apparently in delicate health ; her hair was as luxu- 
 riant as that of her fellows, and the silver pins she wore 
 were particularly beautiful, being flat leaf-shaped, 
 and open worked in a graceful pattern, ending in a 
 point which gave still more the air of a glory 
 surrounding the head ; two much larger than the 
 rest finished the circle at each end. She was fond 
 of carrying about a bambino belonging to a friend ; 
 the fairest, softest, fattest, little thing that ever was 
 seen, it was swathed up in that unnatural manner 
 common to this part of the world, and was held as 
 if by a stalk or a porte-bouquet, as it was passed from 
 one person to another to be admired. I never saw 
 such patient endurance as it displayed, turning its 
 fine dark blue eyes about in innocent amazement : 
 one might have thought it was only alive at top, 
 so oddly were its lower limbs concealed, yet the 
 pretty philosopher seemed perfectly contented, and 
 I suppose finds room to grow in spite of the con- 
 finement it suffers. 
 
 Many were the singular and beautiful effects I 
 observed on the lake, during my stay here ; it is not 
 surprising that the dwellers in such regions are 
 impressed superstition sly with the sights and sounds 
 which meet the eye and ear so frequently : there i% 
 
 N 2 
 
180 THE CONCERT. 
 
 scarcely an hour passes without the waters, clouds, 
 or mountains disclosing some wonder, and assuming 
 some unexpected form. 
 
 One warm afternoon I sat watching the scene 
 from my terrace, when all was still and calm, while 
 a party in a neighbouring suite of rooms were 
 playing on a bad pianoforte and singing in parts, 
 somewhat carelessly, but with voices of considerable 
 melody : suddenly a silver laugh sounded at a short 
 distance, and it was evident that a new comer had 
 joined the circle; welcome she must have been, to 
 judge by the merry greeting given her, and young 
 and pretty I imagined her to be by her charming- 
 voice, which presently added to the music. Occa- 
 sionally interrupted by laughter and feigned mistakes, 
 she went on with sweet snatches, 
 
 " sung and carolled out so clear, 
 That men and angels might rejoice to hear." 
 
 The amateur concert continued some time, and 
 closed with applause and merriment, as the clatter 
 of plates and knives and forks told that another 
 occupation, not perhaps less pleasing to the party was 
 about to succeed. It was then that a few spoken 
 words reached me, and a little destroyed the illusion 
 I had been fond of indulging that none but Italians 
 could sing so well, for those words were German, and 
 I discovered that all the party were strangers, pro- 
 bably from Vienna, who seemed to have visited the 
 lovely lake for the first time, like myself. 
 
 While 1 mused upon the effect of prejudice on 
 
EFFECTS ON THE LAKE. 181 
 
 the mind, the usual evening indications of a coming 
 storm were heard, large drops fell on the paved ter- 
 race, from the Como end of the lake a crowd of 
 thin, ghost-like mists advanced slowly, veiling peak 
 and promontory one after another ; vivid flashes of 
 light attended their path, now disclosing a dark 
 mountain, and now gleaming on a broad expanse oi 
 snow, revealed for a moment, and then covered 
 again : grey, purple and black clouds gathered above, 
 and strugghng bursts of sun glanced only to dis- 
 appear : the lake, whose depths had shone all day 
 alternately with tints of the richest and most deli- 
 cately transparent green in the shifting light, now 
 grew gre}^ and turbid, and its surges beat hoarsely 
 against the little parapet wall of the inn garden 
 filled with roses, and the stone steps of the under 
 arcade beneath my balcony terrace. 
 
 Suddenly all was mist far and near, neither sky 
 nor mountain nor water could be seen, and one deep 
 long roar of thunder pealed along the range of 
 heights from end to end. A furious wind and tor- 
 rents of rain ensued, which, lasting only a few mi- 
 nutes, were succeeded by a brilliant evening, a 
 glorious sunset, and the moonlight which followed 
 made the night 
 
 " . . . .a day. 
 Such as the day is when the sun is hid." 
 
 The time came when we were to leave the de- 
 lightful retreat of Bellaggio, and a small row-boat 
 was accordingly hired, by means of which we were 
 
iNJ tmj: hock of colungo. 
 
 to explore tlie sli(>i(< wliicli lie between that point 
 and Varonna. The morning at six o'clock was bean- 
 tiful bright and warm, the waters calm, and the sky 
 as clear as if no disturbance had taken place the 
 night before. On we floated, pausing here and there 
 at the most striking spots, which occurred so fre- 
 quently that we were long before we could get to 
 Varenna. There is infinite variety in this part of 
 the lake, which turns its course here towards Lecco. 
 The rock of Colungo, part of the Serbeloni property, 
 rises out of the waves in great majesty : its deep, 
 dark caverns blackening the face of the cliff, and 
 its summit crowned with hanging woods : the morn- 
 ing breeze blew gently as we stopped to observe the 
 fine scene around, and the aspect of all nature at 
 this still but cheerful hour, was most inspiriting : 
 behind the rock, and partly concealed by the thick 
 foliage, gushed forth a cascade which throws its 
 sheets of foam from projecting ledges till it reaches 
 the lake. It is called, poetically, Fiumilatte — white 
 as the foam of milk. The boatmen spoke of the 
 virtues and benevolence of the brothers Serbeloni, 
 who spent their fortunes on their charming estate, 
 and did much good in their neighbourhood : they 
 are both very aged, and it is to be feared that their 
 career of useful kindness is nearly coming to a close. 
 Their neighbours of the Palazzo Melzi, where I had 
 spent so many pleasant hours, are young and wealthy, 
 but sickness has attacked the fair creature who is the 
 mistress of the domain, and her life seemed to hang 
 
VARENNA. 183 
 
 by a fragile thread : so unsubstantial are the shows 
 of the world : as shifting as the ever varying scenes 
 on this beautiful lake. 
 
 If I had been delighted with Bellaggio, my ad- 
 miration of the still more lovely shores of Varenna, 
 almost effaced for a time the recollection of its 
 charms. 
 
 This fairy village of palaces lies at the foot of a 
 bold rock ; its dwellings either hanging on terraces 
 or dipping their marble steps into the water. A long 
 and imposing edifice is shewn as the Convent where 
 St. Carlo Borromeo once slept ; it occupies the most 
 conspicuous place with its gardens of orange and 
 lemon trees, its pyramidal cypresses and cedars be- 
 hind. The high slender tower of the church, and 
 the houses embowered in trees lay all reflected in 
 the mirror beneath : groves stretched f\ir up the 
 height, and the rugged naked rock, which rises above 
 all, is crowned by the majestic ruins of its once 
 proud castle, of which only one tower remains ap- 
 parently entire. 
 
 Our boat stopped at the steps of the hotel where 
 we were to breakfast, and there we landed amidst a 
 wilderness of flowers and oriental shrubs ; a huge 
 aloe threw its thick prickly arms above the parapet 
 wall and numerous specimens of cactus in flower 
 peeped from the stony barrier. Jasmine bowers, 
 garlands of red roses, myrtles, pines, cedars, greeted 
 us as we went on our steep way to the hotel by a 
 series of precipitous steps. 
 
184 THE PAKADISE. 
 
 For more than an hour wc wandered about 
 amidst the gardens of the two beautiful liotels 
 which are perched on these inviting heights, and 
 hardly could I resolve to quit their perfumed vistas. 
 Indeed I think such a piece of philosophy would have 
 been impossible to me, had I not comforted myself 
 with a suddenly formed resolution to return at some 
 future period, with the companions without whom 
 I had never before travelled, and here, faithless even 
 to Bellaggio, for a summer long to 
 '* melt all life away,'- 
 in the orange groves of Varenna. A suite of rooms 
 in a pavilion hanging over the lake, in the very 
 midst of the gardens, and removed from the bustle 
 of the hotel, was the temple I devoted to this plea- 
 sant duty, and having satisfied my mind with a 
 dream, never probably to be realized, I was con- 
 tent to hear that the breakfast of hot coffee, delicious 
 milk and bread and fresh agones whose silver scales 
 had probably a few minutes before glittered in the 
 lake, was awaiting our return. 
 
 With books and friends in such a retreat as this 
 who could not pass a happy summer existence ? — 
 Such the younger Pliny enjoyed near this very spot, 
 but since Ugo Foscolo has said it is impossible to 
 study on the lake of Como, all works severer than 
 those of the poets may be banished, and for those who 
 are not so unfortunate as to despise the Muse, might 
 not Varenna be indeed a Paradise ? 
 
 " Malheur a qui n'aime pas les poete^ ! je dirais 
 
THE GRIM CHATELAINS. 185 
 
 presques d'eux ce que dit Shakespeare des Iiommes 
 insensibles a rharmonie." 
 
 Alas ! as our little boat bore us away from 
 these enchanting shores and I gazed on the ruins of 
 the feudal castle which still commands the moun- 
 tains, I felt inclined to pursue Chateaubriand's senti-' 
 mental reflection and add : 
 
 " Elles ne sont deja plus pour moi, ces ruines, puis 
 qu'il est probable que rien ne m'y amenera. On 
 meurt a chaque moment pour un temps, une chose, 
 une personne qu'on ne reverra jamais : la vie est une 
 morte successive." 
 
 I was shewn in the kitchen of the rival hotel to 
 that we had chosen, two portraits painted in fresco 
 on the wall of what doubtless formed part of the 
 castle, to judge by its thickness and the general style 
 of the chamber. These are said to represent two 
 powerful lords of Varenna, the dukes of Serra-pontis, 
 and the date they bear is that of 1313 : they have 
 aspects grim and solemn, and no doubt knew how 
 to keep their vassals in proper order : there must 
 have been fewer orange groves and terraces of roses 
 in their day, but in their stead bristling fortifications 
 guarded the steep ascent, some part of which yet 
 remaining, we explored till we could climb no higher 
 for heat and weariness, and for a time I abandoned 
 my love of ruined castles, for the, to me, more novel 
 enjoyment of the rose garden. 
 
 Perhaps it was of these feudal lords that the follow- 
 ing anecdote is related by Amelot de la Houssaye. 
 
186 8TELVI0 PASS. 
 
 *' One of the Da Ponte family was at feud with 
 another, the Canale : both were of Venice, and 
 alluding to the many bridges and canals there, the 
 proud Da Ponte boasted that the Bridges were far 
 above the Canals : the insulted rival replied scorn- 
 fully that the canals of the city of the sea, were in 
 existence long before the bridges were thought of. 
 So high rose the dispute on this point, that the Senate 
 was obliged to interfere, and to inform the disputants 
 that Venice had the power at its pleasure to fill up 
 the canals and to destroy the bridges." 
 
 Perhaps the Duke de Serra-pontis retired in dis- 
 gust to his strong castle of Como to digest the inter- 
 ference as he might. 
 
 The magnificent military road which has not long 
 been completed over the Stelvio pass, runs at the 
 back of Varenna, and the galleries here are stu- 
 pendous. 
 
 This wondrous work of art, equal to those of 
 Napoleon, has been constructed in order that no im- 
 pediment might prevent an army marching over the 
 snowy heights from Germany, in case the Milanese 
 assert their liberties too strenuously. 
 
 There are still Dukes of Serra Pontis in the land ! 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE CARRIAGE AN-P DRIVER — MENAGGIO — ROAD TO PORLEZZA 
 — THE YOUNG CUR^S — LAGO LUGaNO — SONG OF THE OLD 
 
 BELL— THE MARINAIO WEDDING SONG — IL PAE8E LIBERO — 
 
 LUGANO — MONTE CENERE — MAGADINO — GIGANTIC CHAMBERS 
 
 FROG-CONCERT — THE '* PRETTY ISLAND" — REPUBLICAN 
 
 INDEPENDENCE. 
 
 It is five miles to Menaggio across the lake, and 
 thither we directed our way as we proposed hiring 
 a carriage there to take us across the country to the 
 Lake of Lugano : we were not long in procuring 
 one, which though unique in form was very comfort- 
 able and answered our purpose perfectly well : it 
 was such a contrivance as Cinderella's godmother 
 might have put together before her wand changed it 
 into something better : the body might be likened 
 to half an egg-shell and for an awning four props 
 with a drapery drawn across were nailed at each 
 corner, the other half of the egg-shell placed in front 
 supported the driver and the courier under whose 
 experienced guidance we placed ourselves on our 
 expeditions. 
 
 The youth who had secured us as tenants of his 
 little vehicle, seemed in high spirits at his triumph 
 over his fellows, for he had many rivals at Menaggio ; 
 he assured us that the strangely shaped but inge- 
 
188 MENAGGIO. 
 
 nious machine was perfection itself, having been ar- 
 ranged under his especial direction, and that his 
 horses were the fleetest and the best in the country, as 
 indeed their speed went far to prove. While we waited 
 in our boat till negociations were concluded, we had 
 leisure to observe the village at whose port we were 
 moored and very remarkable was its aspect, telling of 
 former importance by its now decayed buildings and 
 towers. The church presents, towards the lake, a 
 temple-like apsis, which must formerly have been 
 dedicated to some Pagan worship : its fluted pilas- 
 ters support a circular dome now tiled and rui- 
 nous : this part, indeed, seems unused for sacred 
 purposes, as newer buildings and a high tower rise 
 close behind it, retaining still some traces of their 
 antique origin. 
 
 We set forth with our lively good looking con- 
 ductor, who from time to time, as he drove on, turned 
 back courteously to see that we were well accommo- 
 dated in his Phoenix of carriages, which he rejoiced to 
 hear was perfectly easy and unexceptionable. It was 
 not long before we discovered that our new acquain- 
 tance was the cugino of the pale pretty heiress of 
 Bellaggio, who it seems had named to our courier 
 the probability of his encountering her relative on 
 the quay at Menaggio : he was faithful to his trust, 
 and to judge by the sparkle of our new friend's eye 
 it was possible that some exclusive message might 
 have been delivered by the messenger from la hella 
 cugina. 
 
ROAD TO PORLEZZA. ' J 89 
 
 Wje learnt that this carriage and the fine pair of 
 horses which drew it were not the only possession of 
 the favoured youth, and I immediately filled up the 
 blanks of my knowledge with the romance of the 
 union of this handsome pair and the extreme likeli- 
 hood of their setting up an hotel in some beautiful 
 corner of the Lake of Lugano which is less well pro- 
 vided in that particular than Como. 
 
 The drive was extremely agreeable, by a pretty 
 cross road amongst vines and olive gardens, with 
 fine views of the lake we were leaving behind. 
 Pretty lanes and fertile meadows made the country 
 one continued garden, and the numerous wild flowers 
 were so luxuriant that they enamelled every bank 
 and field as we passed. Hearing our expressions of 
 admiration, the conductor, delighted at the praises of 
 his native hills, suddenly stopped his horses beneath 
 a spreading shade, and leaping over a wall dis- 
 appeared in a moment, returning quickly with his 
 hands full of heart-shaped leaves and rich lilac flowers 
 with a perfume like the tuberose. 
 
 " Ecco del' pomporsino !" he exclaimed as he pre- 
 sented them, and we recognized a charming specimen 
 of the cyclamen, which grew wild on these delightful 
 mountains. 
 
 The whole way to Porlezza was equally pleasant : 
 we passed through many picturesque villages, much 
 neater than any we had seen, and 1 was struck with 
 the peculiarly fine heads of the peasantry and their re- 
 semblance to so many of Raphael's speaking portraits : 
 
190 THE CURES. 
 
 one young man in particular who came to the carriage 
 to greet our driver, might have been a living model 
 of the mighty master. The dignified courtesy of 
 manner of all these peasants is pleasing in the ex- 
 treme : it is too remarkable to escape observation, 
 and all travellers must be favourably impressed with 
 it. 
 
 As we proceeded through one village, we received 
 a bow from a person whose calling we did not at first 
 recognize, but were told afterwards that he was the 
 cure. He was a fine handsome man dressed in black, 
 but walking al fresco without his coat, which he 
 carried : his greeting to our driver was familiar and 
 kind, and he appeared to be received with affection 
 by several persons who ran out of their cottages to 
 see him. 
 
 " He is an excellent man," said our friend, " and 
 does not belong to the Jesuits who are always making 
 mischief at Turin : we have none of them here now. 
 I will shew you a village soon where an awkward 
 thing happened, owing to the over-strictness of the 
 clergy. There were two young cures, living not far 
 from each other in the mountains, who used occasion- 
 ally to come to the village to visit an old lady who 
 had a pretty villa there : she was always delighted 
 to see them and made good cheer whenever they 
 came : they were both capital fellows, with no pride 
 or severity in their dispositions, and were adored in 
 their parishes, but one day there was a great fete, 
 and they found it so warm that they had taken 
 
TRAJET TO LUGANO. 191 
 
 a little more than usual of the hostess's wine at 
 dinner, and coming out with her to look at the young 
 men and girls dancing under the vines, they were so 
 pleased that they quite forgot, and so did everybody 
 else, that priests ought not to dance, and jumping 
 up they sprang amongst the performers, selected 
 their partners, and footed it away to the admiration 
 of all the world. It was however an unlucky pas- 
 time for them, for some ill-natured person represented 
 it to the Bishop, and they were both removed from 
 their parishes and have not been allowed to return." 
 
 Arrived at Porlezza our next adventure was to be 
 the trajet to Lugano, a row of twelve miles across 
 the Lake. A boat was hired, and we took our 
 stations under its pretty awning with our three boat- 
 men, one of whom, an elderly intelligent-looking 
 man, seemed the highest in command and imparted 
 all the information we requested with alacrity and 
 apparent pleasure. 
 
 Our passports were examined at Porlezza, as we 
 should have to enter the precincts of Switzerland, a 
 circumstance I heard with pleasure, as I did not 
 imagine at that time that I should make a more 
 intimate acquaintance with that land of the sage 
 and free. 
 
 The day continued propitious, the wind was fresh 
 and pleasant, the sun powerful, and the sky without 
 a cloud ; the water of the lake was of a rich trans- 
 parent green like the sea, and the strength of its 
 current was pointed out to us by the boatmen, who 
 
192 LAKE OF LUGANO. 
 
 told US that they were rowing hoth against the 
 current and the wind, which exphiined the exer- 
 tion they were forced to use. The whole scene 
 offered a great contrast to Como ; though little 
 less beautiful, the shores of Lugano are much wilder, 
 and the villas are less numerous, there is however 
 no want of gardens and vine-terraces, which are 
 carefully protected from the violence of the water 
 by strong stone parapets, which look like fortifi- 
 cations. 
 
 Grand and imposing are the wild rocks which 
 frown above the clear and sparkling waves, and 
 strange and menacing are their forms, as they rise 
 over the carefully cultivated lands which climb up 
 in rich terraces of verdure to an almost incredible 
 height, triumphing over the stony and rugged soil 
 which industry has rendered fertile. Yet nature 
 has her fitful moments of productiveness in certain 
 spots, and Monte Generosa is so called because of 
 the medicinal herbs it produces in abundance. 
 
 The bays and headlands we passed were full of 
 majestic beauty, and the position of some of the 
 villages, with the lofty belfry of their churches, is 
 remarkably fine. That of Santa Maria della Salute, 
 placed on a magnificent height and defended with 
 strong walls is a very imposing object both as the 
 voyager approaches and recedes from it. 
 
 Our head boatman, as we passed Santa Maria, 
 began, in a low tone, to chant to himself, what 1 
 
SONG OF THE OLD BELL. 193 
 
 supposed to be a hymn in honour of the Madonna, 
 which circumstance, from its extreme rarity, in these 
 parts, attracted my attention, but I soon found that he 
 was trying to remember some h'nes, written by a 
 Milanese poet on the erection of this fine new church, 
 supposed to be the lamentation of the old bell, as he 
 said, * a primo de morire.' 
 
 The air was plaintive, and a few words I caught 
 seemed pretty and reflective, but the singer tried 
 in vain to recall them, and they remained im- 
 perfect. 
 
 SONG OF THE OLD BELL, 
 
 Circling Alps! ye hear the wail 
 
 Of Saint Mary's bell ; 
 Hark ! upon the sobbing gale. 
 
 Rings the funeral knell. 
 
 Soon, my latest murmur past, 
 
 I shall sigh no more. 
 Silent on the list'ning blast. 
 
 Silent on the shore. 
 
 Dumb on wild Lugano's waves 
 That shall mourn in vain. 
 
 Mute in Salvatore's caves. 
 Ne'er to wake again. 
 
 Heard no more on Cima's brow, 
 
 Where, her elm beside, 
 Meet the council even now. 
 
 And her laws decide. 
 
11)4 THE MARTNAfO. 
 
 Heard iiol, wlicii the siiri:;('s Itcat, 
 
 Swelling loud and liigh, 
 Where the echoing rocks repent 
 
 Songs of liherty. 
 
 Monte Rosa, 'midst the skies, 
 
 Shall no more rejoice. 
 That above her crest should rise. 
 
 My accustomed voice. 
 
 Dark Caprino and her cells. 
 
 Ask another tone, 
 "When to San Lorenzo's hells. 
 
 They reply alone. 
 
 Holy Mary's glories all 
 
 Other voices tell. 
 Silence and oblivion's pall. 
 
 Closes o'er her bell. 
 
 I praised his singing and endeavoured to lead 
 him on to indulge me with more melody, but at 
 first he was reserved and shy ; however, in a short 
 time, as we passed new scenes of beauty, he appeared 
 to become animated and inspired, and as he rowed 
 accompanied every stroke of his oar with a song, 
 which seemed improvised. He would occasionally 
 break off to point out with enthusiastic gestures, 
 some charming attractive scene; now it was th( 
 craggy peaks of Salvo.tore, now the Bella Scolio,^^ 
 now // rnonte passo strelto, and then he would! 
 desire us to admire the colour and the depth of his^ 
 beautiful and unrivalled lake, * sixteen hundred feet 
 
WEDDING SONG. 195 
 
 deep,' strongly impregnated with iron, and very 
 beneficial to the constitution when drunk, according 
 to his report. 
 
 I asked him, now that he was fairly warmed into 
 verse and melody, to sing me some ballad of the 
 country, and after launching forth into praises of 
 the seraphic voice of his countryman Rubini, of 
 whom he seemed an adorer, and regretting his own 
 voice was less charming, he began to warble with 
 considerable taste, an extremely pretty lay of a 
 * giorno de nozze,' setting forth the beauties of the 
 bride with the ** piccola manina" and the delights 
 " della cara, della cara gioventu," the melodious 
 language supplying much of the charm of the 
 subject. 
 
 WEDDING SONG. 
 
 The maid with the Uttle hand 
 
 To-day is made a bride : 
 A wreath of snowy roses 
 
 Around her brow is tied. 
 
 There are roses in her path. 
 
 And on her cheeks are more. 
 And her tiny foot is pressing 
 
 Red leaves that strew the shore. 
 
 Our bark is full of flowers. 
 
 But we have left a place 
 For the maiden and the bridegroom — 
 
 They take but little space. 
 
 o 2 
 
196 LUGANO. 
 
 Her boddice is all decked 
 
 With gold and pearls so rare, 
 And silver pins are shining 
 
 Amidst her glossy hair. 
 
 The happy hours fleet fast 
 
 Of youth's delicious spring, 
 It leaves the tender nightingale 
 But little time to sing ! 
 
 There are clouds that come so quickly 
 
 Over summer's tranquil sky. 
 You must take the blissful minutes 
 
 Nor give them time to fly. 
 
 Our bark has waited long. 
 The blue waves beat the strand — 
 
 Let us sing the bridal carol 
 
 For the maid with the little hand. 
 
 From the time that his shyness had become dis- | 
 pelled by encouragement, our marinaio did not 
 cease his songs, in the chorus of which he was 
 occasionally assisted by his hitherto silent brethren 
 who had taken no part in the conversation. Occa- 
 sionally he stopped from hoarseness, and sometimes 
 to shew us a passing wonder, and just as we were 
 nearing the Swiss frontier, with the custom-house 
 in sight, we turned a promontory which brought us 
 close to a lovely spot where a series of JDalaces, em- 
 bowered in thick groves, ran up to a pyramid above 
 the lake, the high tower and dome of a church 
 surmounting the group ; a small strip of land 
 detached from the shore bore a single salice plan- 
 
IL POESIE LIBERO. 197 
 
 gendo, opposite to which, hanging over a garden 
 wall, our minstrel bade us admire the legna de rossa 
 whose crimson feathery fibres were waving in the 
 increasing breeze, and the thick cluster of roses 
 which fell in festoons almost into the water. 
 
 Without interrupting his song he changed the air 
 to one of Rosini's, and guided the boat close to the 
 shore, when he made a sign to one of the other 
 boatmen to cut a branch of roses and present them 
 to the ladies. This piece of gallantry performed, 
 he rowed away and we stopped a few moments at 
 the Custom House to undergo the slight examination, 
 necessary before we were allowed to proceed. 
 
 " Siete," he exclaimed, "in paese libero!" and we 
 had, he proclaimed, entered the land of William 
 Tell. 
 
 Once in a free land, our boatman seemed to 
 think he might express his opinions freely, and 
 accordingly launched forth in praises of Eugene 
 Beauharnais, his especial favourite, whose noble 
 spirit and kind heart he extolled extremely, and 
 insisted that the Milanese had never flourished su 
 well as under his government. 
 
 While thus occupied with poetry and pohtic», 
 we became sensible of a sudden change in the 
 weather, and as we had every day experienced the 
 same at the same hour, we were prepared for the 
 ipproach of the " temporale" which we continually 
 iieard announced : on one occasion the waiter at one 
 Inn gave it as his opinion that the sky ' must be so 
 
198 LUGANO, 
 
 tired of r; lining and changing, that it could not 
 chooscj but be fixed at last.' 
 
 There was time for no more songs, for our boat- 
 men were obliged to 
 
 ** bend strongly to their oars" 
 in order to reach Lugano, now in sight, before the 
 gale increased. The usual mists began to gather 
 and to veil the tops of the mountains : one by one 
 the high peaks disappeared, the thunder growled 
 and the wind sighed menacingly amongst the rocks : 
 the green waves rolled high with crests of white 
 foam, and we began to feel a little apprehension, 
 particularly as we had often heard that in cases of 
 danger, the boatmen on these lakes often throw away 
 their oars, abandon their sail and occupy themselves 
 in entreaties to the Virgin. This however, for- 
 tunately, was not our case, the promise of an 
 increased huono-mano stimulated our friends, and 
 we made our way against the wind gallantly. 
 
 The town of Lugano is finely situated, and com- 
 mands a splendid view of the Alpine range : its hills 
 are dotted with villas and it has a flourishing 
 appearance, but it is by no means interesting in 
 itself, and we were not induced to linger there long : 
 as soon as a violent shower with thunder and 
 lightning, had cleared the air, we quitted the large 
 room in which we had taken shelter, where we had 
 had leisure to contemplate its enormous chimney 
 piece decorated with elaborate sculpture, and took 
 leave of our faithful conductors, who stood in a row 
 
MONTE CENERE. 199 
 
 with many smiles and bows while we got into a 
 hired carriage destined to take us on to Magadino 
 on the Lago Maggiore, the port whence the steam- 
 boat starts on the daily excursion of the lake. 
 
 The drive was extremely pleasant for some time ; 
 the country finely cultivated, and the scenery and 
 productions still Italian, although the manners of 
 the free people were quite different, their superiority 
 manifesting itself in a cessation of the courtesy which 
 we had so much admired of late. 
 
 Not a peasant touched his hat or gave a glance of 
 cheerful greeting : a Yankee rudeness, singularly 
 opposite to the careless independence of English 
 freemen, made itself instantly felt, and I could not 
 but regret that liberty, admirable in itself, should 
 disdain the polish which could only adorn its worth, 
 without injuring its purity in any way. 
 
 The cattle with bells which ^e met in this route 
 continually reminded us, and more agreeably, of 
 being in Switzerland. 
 
 Following the course of a foaming mountain tor- 
 rent, we passed along finely cultivated fields, a storm 
 still threatening, but kept off by the struggling sun, 
 whose fitful gleams made the mountains and valleys 
 more beautiful by their uncertain light. 
 
 We crossed the Monte Cenere by the fine zigzag 
 road which winds and turns amongst forests in a 
 most surprising manner, allowing occasional views 
 of the glorious mountains and the broad valley of 
 the Ticino far below, with the wide sea of Maggiore 
 
200 MAQADINO. 
 
 spreading out aii extended sheet of silver, defended 
 on each side by bold and precipitous rocks. 
 
 We descended to the marshy banks of the Ticino, 
 and arrived at Magadino without having encoun- 
 tered any adventure from brigands, the race of whom 
 is extinct on the once dangerous pass of Monte 
 Cenere. 
 
 The inn at which we slept is of the most stupen- 
 dous character, a circumstance rather surprising, as 
 before steam -boats were established on the lake, 
 Lucarno, on the opposite shore, was the spot of most 
 importance ; and considering the unhealthy and 
 uninteresting position of the dirty little town of 
 Magadino, one would imagine few travellers, except 
 from necessity, would choose it for a halting place. 
 
 There are, however, rival hotels here, and both 
 are on a gigantic scale. Although, by this time, 
 accustomed to the spaciousness of the chambers in 
 the hotels of Italy, I was startled at the dimensions 
 of that in which I found myself, the more so as it 
 was approached by a dark narrow staircase. 
 
 Three, en suite, were accorded us, and it seemed 
 really a work of time to travel from one to the 
 other : every room had, at least, three doors, not 
 one of which would shut close, and several hung by 
 one enormous rusty hinge. Titans and giants only 
 seemed suitable denizens of these exalted chambers, 
 where I felt my insignificance extreme, as I vainly 
 set myself to the work of closing some of the huge 
 portals which defied my feeble efforts. The bed 
 
FROG-CONCERT. 201 
 
 which reared its monstrous form in the centre of the 
 room would have held five persons with ease, and 
 three enormous windows reached from the ceiling to 
 the floor, and looked forth upon the marshy corner 
 of the lake where Magadino lies. 
 
 A deafening sound, as if of ten thousand spinning 
 wheels in motion, prevented any thing approaching* 
 to sleep all night, for, without cessation, myriads of 
 frogs, doubtless of larger size than in any other spot 
 in Europe, kept up a concert able to chase rest from 
 the most wearied traveller that ever took refuge in 
 this melancholy nook. The night was excessively 
 hot, but it was impossible to have the windows 
 open, and in any case that might have been impru- 
 dent, as the place has a reputation for malaria, not 
 undeserved. 
 
 The master of the hotel, like most of the inn- 
 keepers here, speaks English, and amused me in the 
 morning as he conducted us to the steamer, by re- 
 commending to our especial attention his " pretty 
 island," for so he translated for our behoof the Isola 
 bella, one of the chief lions of the lake. 
 
 The morning was grey and damp, as some rain 
 had fallen during the night, and when we took our 
 stations on board the steamer, on the wet deck, 
 we looked about for some stool or chair on which to 
 place our feet. Having taken possession of two 
 camp stools we turned them on their sides and thus 
 defended ourselves from the danger of catching cold 
 by contact with the damp boards. A consequential 
 
202 REPUBLICAN MANNERS. 
 
 looking personage gaily dressed, who had been 
 leisurely walking backwards and forwards amongst 
 the few passengers, smoking his cigar which he 
 unceremoniously puffed in every one's face as he 
 passed, now approached us, and, with a frown, 
 stooped down and snatched the stools from under 
 our feet, exclaiming in an imperative tone that they 
 were to sit on and not for other purposes. 
 
 I remonstrated that the decks were wet, but the 
 captain, for such our polite new Swiss acquaintance 
 turned out to be, was inexorable. Our English 
 attendant here came to the rescue and insisted on 
 some substitute being provided, remarking some- 
 what sharply on the want of civility displayed. 
 
 This struck me as a bad specimen of the manners 
 of William Tell's countrymen, and I looked back 
 towards the mountains which concealed Lugano and 
 Como with a sigh for the beautiful language and 
 charming courtesy lost for a time, but I rejoiced to 
 think, shortly to be found again on our return, 
 after the wonders of Maggiore had been explored. 
 
 Meantime, as the day brightened and the sun 
 dried the decks, we forgot our disgust at the captain 
 in the scenery which opened around us. The cha- 
 racter of Lago Maggiore is very different from that 
 of the others we had seen : vaster and grander, it 
 struck me as being less beautiful than Como and 
 less interesting in its wildness than Lugano, never- 
 theless it possesses great attractions, and if seen first, 
 would be, perhaps, more justly appreciated than 
 
MONTE ROSA. 203 
 
 after having enjoyed the delights of its attractive 
 neiohbours. 
 
 We were not fortunate in the sky, for clouds 
 obscured the snowy peaks of Monte Rosa, who had 
 always been coy with us along the whole line of 
 country we had travelled. The nearer hills, how- 
 ever, are grand and imposing, and the bays and 
 promontories in the lake very fine, continually dis- 
 closing fresh objects of interest. 
 
CHAPTER Xlll. 
 
 BERNABO AND GALEAZZO VISCONTI — THE MEETING— LA MA- 
 DONNA DEL SASSO — THE APPARITION — THE CHURCH — 
 CA8TELL0 CARDINALS — BORROMEAN ISLANDS— ARONA AND 
 THE STATUE — BAVENO— ISOLA BELLA — MARTINA OF LAVENO 
 — ROUTE TO COMO — COMO REVISITED. 
 
 As long as we were in the upper part of the 
 Langen See, or Lago di Locarno, we were still in 
 Switzerland, after that, Italy claims the lake as her 
 own ; Austria and Sardinia dividing its shores. 
 
 We paused a few moments at Locarno, one of 
 the chief towns of the district of Tessin ; it is finely 
 situated, and looks well with its churches rising 
 above the orange and myrtle groves which embosom 
 the town. Above, on a height, stands a remarkable 
 building, very conspicuous from the lake, and held 
 in great veneration by the Catholic population. 
 Fourteen stations lead up to it, all of which are 
 clearly seen amongst their surrounding woods. This 
 is the famous church of La Madonna del Sasso, 
 visited by pilgrims for many an age, and freshly 
 restored by modern devotion. 
 
 It was to this shrine that Giovanni Galeazzo 
 Visconti, in the 14th century, proceeded in order to 
 lull to rest the suspicions of his uncle Bernabo of 
 
THE MEETING. 205 
 
 Milan, with whom he shared the sovereignty of 
 Lombardy ; and here he offered up his vows, not 
 of piety, but for a successfid issue to the daring 
 adventure on which he was bent. 
 
 Galeazzo quitted Pavia in gallant array, for no 
 less than two thousand horse accompanied him on 
 his pilgrimage. Bernabo heard with contempt of 
 the powerful guard with which he surrounded him- 
 self, persuaded that cowardice dictated his caution, 
 and when his more suspicious friends suggested the 
 necessity of wary observation of his movements, the 
 uncle replied that he was too great a saint to be 
 treacherous. "My nephew," said he, "is by no 
 means of a warlike disposition — he loves priests 
 better than soldiers, and a rosary better than a 
 sword ; his days are occupied in pilgrimages, and 
 his nights in penance ; he is not a foe whom I need 
 dread." 
 
 His dutiful and pious relative could not approach 
 Milan so nearly without paying his respects to the 
 uncle who trusted him so well ; accordingly, after 
 his devotions were paid, the meek Galeazzo, with 
 all his numerous train, directed his steps to the 
 great city, and was met by Bernabo, his two sons, 
 and a few attendants only. The relations embraced 
 and uttered mutual expressions of friendliness, 
 though Bernabo, in his heart, as he looked at his 
 two sons, wished that the heritage of his nephew 
 was already annexed to theirs. What the secret 
 thoughts of Galeazzo were a few minutes disclosed ; 
 
206 LA MADONNA DFJ, SASSO. 
 
 turning to one of his confidential followers, Giacopo 
 del Verone, he gave a certain sign, agreed on be- 
 tween them, and a powerful hand was laid on the 
 bridle of the mule ridden by the unsuspicious Ber- 
 nabo — his sword was instantly cut from his belt, 
 and he was dragged to the ground. As swift as 
 the action of a Thug towards his guest, men at 
 arms, who stood behind each of the sons of Bernabo, 
 performed the same service for their chief, and the 
 three prisoners were hurried off to a dungeon 
 already prepared for their reception. 
 
 For seven months the unfortunate Bernabo lan- 
 guished in chains in the castle of Frezzo, without 
 an effort on the part of his subjects, now servants 
 of the usurper, for his release. He had been tyran- 
 nous and oppressive, and neither love nor regrets 
 followed him to his last home, where poison at 
 length did its work, and Galeazzo was freed of a 
 rival in the power he coveted. 
 
 La Madonna del Sasso had probably many such 
 devotees in those turbulent times, and in the follow- 
 ing century she looked down from her height with 
 sorrow on the devastations committed by the five 
 robber brothers, Mazzarda, who made the lake over 
 which she presided a scene of rapine and horror, 
 when they sallied forth from their island fastness 
 and fell upon travellers on shore. Perhaps she re- 
 pented her that she had chosen such a spot, since 
 her influence, could not repress such outrages, and 
 would fain, but for pity, have retired from the 
 retreat she had herself fixed upon. 
 
THE APPARITION. 207 
 
 It was late on a calm and beautiful summer even- 
 ing, so tranquil and so pure that one would fancy 
 no storms ever visited the spot, — 
 
 " All was so still, so soft in earth and air. 
 You scarce would start to meet a spirit there. 
 Secure that nought of evil could delight. 
 To walk in such a scene, on such a night," 
 
 when a young shepherdess of Locarno was returning 
 over the mountains, having folded her sheep, and 
 was watching with innocent pleasure the last golden 
 rays that gilded the lake at her feet ; as she gazed 
 she was aware of a figure in white garments sitting 
 on a stone which lay in the path before her. She 
 paused a moment in surprise, for, although so close, 
 she had not seen the stranger a moment before : 
 while, impressed with sudden awe, she hesitated to 
 advance, the figure turned on her a face of extreme 
 sweetness, and, raising an almost transparent hand, 
 through which the sun-gleams seemed to shine, 
 beckoned her to come forward. She did so, and 
 stood before a female of the most exquisite beauty, 
 whose eyes had 
 
 " The steady aspect of a clear large star ;" 
 
 a crown of gold was on her head and confined her 
 long tresses w^hich glittered as much as the diadem 
 which bound them, and her form was enveloped in 
 robes of a texture which seemed formed from one of 
 the soft white clouds hovering above the lake — such 
 as it afterwards appeared to the votaries of the Vir- 
 
208 THE APPARITION. 
 
 gin, for her robe enriched the shrine of Locarno. — 
 " Maria," said the figure in a gentle voice, 
 
 *' touched 
 To an aerial sweetness, like soft music 
 Over a tract of waters,'* 
 
 ** you are pure as I myself was when on eartli ; to 
 you I confide my wish. Let a church be erected on 
 this spot in honour of the Virgin of the Stone." 
 
 Maria heard the words distinctly, but she no 
 longer saw the speaker, and, in strange perturbation 
 of spirit, she descended the mountain and sought 
 her home. That night she slept not, neither did 
 she dare to tell what she had seen, convinced that 
 her story would not be credited and she would be 
 chidden for falsehood. She returned to her accus- 
 tomed duties the next day and ruminated on the 
 strange event, till she came to the determination of 
 obeying the command she had received from the 
 holy visitant, happen what might. She had reached 
 the spot where the great stone lay, formerly part of 
 a rude temple raised for infidel worship, when, as 
 she gazed intently, it seemed to her as if a light 
 cloud descended on it which, clearing away, dis- 
 closed to view the same celestial form that had 
 appeared to her before. She saw the same looks, 
 she heard the same words, and the figure again dis- 
 appeared. She descended the mountain, strong in 
 her resolution, hurried at once to the convent where 
 she had been nurtured in her infancy, and there 
 told of the wondrous vision. 
 
CASTELLO CARDINALE. 209 
 
 Maria never was seen again on the mountain 
 tending sheep, but her voice might often afterwards 
 be heard, the sweetest in the choir of holy maidens, 
 who sang the praises of the Virgin in the church of 
 La Madonna del Sasso, which soon crowned the 
 height above Lucarno. 
 
 The Castello Cardinale, placed on a rock which 
 stands isolated nearly in the centre of the lake, has a 
 most magnificent and imposing effect, seen from 
 all sides : the fortress commands the whole watery 
 expanse, and no doubt, in troubled times, was most 
 important, as it is now most beautiful, with its 
 guardian mountains crowding round. After the 
 little manufacturing town of Intra is passed, the 
 most striking features of the lake come forth. 
 
 Here the fine opening towards the Simplon pass 
 spreads out in infinite grandeur, and the eye is 
 dazzled by the brilliancy of the white marble quarry 
 of Monte Palanza, worked for five hundred years, 
 whence the materials were taken to build that most 
 amazing of all edifices, the gorgeous Duomo of 
 Milan. 
 
 The far famed Borromean islands, that gem the 
 Lago Maggiore, and have been so often sung and 
 painted, the Isola Bella and its protecting Madre 
 with the attendant Pescatore, now came in sight, 
 and very beautiful they look, rising out of the blue 
 waters, their terraces and temples and gardens 
 gleaming in the lucid mirror. As we drew nearer, 
 however, the charm was much dispelled, for on the 
 
210 
 
 BORROMEAN ISLANDS. 
 
 Isola Madre, sliines an immense white building, 
 whose ugliness nothing can mask, and which has all 
 the appearance of a penitentiary, though it is pro- 
 bably a manufactory, which is as little poetical or 
 graceful. 
 
 It requires evening and its beautifying light to 
 make these islands lovely, or they should be seen 
 by moonlight, when nothing can exceed the charm- 
 ing effect they produce : I afterwards beheld them 
 by both, and carried away with me a recollection 
 far more pleasing than their aspect in the full glare 
 of the noonday sun allowed. 
 
 Their position, with a glorious range of moun- 
 tains opposite touched with a thousand beauties of 
 light and shade, and the immense width of the sea- 
 like lake, on which they seem to float like water 
 flowers, is the most exquisite that can be imagined, 
 and one cannot wonder at the taste which embel- 
 lished one of them, once a barren rock, with gar- 
 dens, statues, and a palace. 
 
 In six hours and a half, after leaving Magadino 
 in the morning, we arrived at Arona, where we 
 landed, having been betrayed into a desire to see 
 the gigantic statue of St. Carlo Borromeo closer 
 than from the lake. This, in hot weather, is a great 
 mistake, as the fatigue of mounting the high hill 
 where the bronze saint stands overlooking the 
 country for leagues, is intolerable, at least I found 
 it so, for the sun was intensely hot, and not a cloud 
 was in the sky to relieve the continued glare. The 
 
ARONA AND THE STATUE. 211 
 
 view is extremely fine from the utmost height, but 
 I think it quite as much so from the road beneath, 
 where we met our carriage, after a tremendous 
 struggle to the summit and a strange scramble down 
 again through woods and vineyards, by an almost 
 perpendicular path which was extremely pretty, 
 and but for the scorching heat, would have been 
 enjoyable. 
 
 We had engaged a carriage from Arona to take 
 us back to Baveno, in order that we might see the 
 scenery better by land than by returning in the 
 steam boat ; our driver had mistaken his orders and 
 failed to meet us at the foot of San Carlo's moun- 
 tain, so that we had to wait for his arrival under 
 some clustering vines at the door of a proprietor's 
 cottage, while our vehicle was sent for. Such a 
 spot as we were placed in would have been indeed 
 delicious if a cool breeze had been wafted from the 
 azure waters far below, or if a cloud had for a time 
 shaded the fierceness of the glare. Seldom after- 
 wards had we occasion to complain of the summer's 
 heat, which was confined to a brief portion of the 
 season this year, but I never recollect to have felt 
 anything equal to the sun's power on that day when 
 exposed to it for several hours. 
 
 At length we heard the welcome sound of wheels, 
 and gladly resumed our journey by a charming 
 road, presenting new beauties at every turn, as it 
 skirted the lake, now high above, now descending 
 
 p 2 
 
212 DAVENO. 
 
 towards those transparent blue waters whose hue is 
 so attractive to the eye. 
 
 After remaining to dine at Baveno, where we 
 recognised some English travellers, usually a com- 
 mon occurrence, but one by no means so this year 
 owing to the unpropitious spring, we engaged a 
 boat to take us to the islands, and to carry us across to 
 Laveno, where we proposed sleeping. The evening 
 was delightful, and a cool breeze rippled the sur- 
 face of the waters, changing their tints of sapphire 
 to emerald. We rowed round the Three Sisters, 
 and stopped our boat at the flight of steps of the 
 Borromeo palace in the Isola Bella. 
 
 This fine place is neglected and deserted now, and 
 except for its position, has little claim to attention. 
 The terraced gardens with their marble balustrades, 
 and rows of statues and vases, are formal in the 
 extreme, and their plan is in a taste gone by : 
 nevertheless there is a certain beauty about the 
 whole, which suits the climate and the scene, and 
 it would be worth while to renew or remodel it ; 
 the flowers and shrubs, once unique and surprising 
 no longer excite interest from their novelty or their 
 beauty, for they present scarcely any specimens 
 which are not familiarly known in English gardens 
 and none are the first of their class. A camphor 
 tree is an exception, which flourishes well, and is a 
 curiosity, and some lemons and oranges were hang- 
 ing against a sunny wall, trained like peach trees. 
 Some fine pine trees of great height embeUish a 
 
ISOLA BELLA. 213 
 
 thick grove, and numerous dark cypresses lift up 
 their spiral points amongst the white statues, all 
 looking better from the lake, and at a distance, than 
 close. The laurel which Napoleon is said to have 
 inscribed remains, a magnificent tree, but the traces 
 of the inscription are very faint. 
 
 I was, on the whole, rather pleased than disap- 
 pointed with the Isola Bella, for I had heard it too 
 often dispraised to expect it to present the beauties 
 for which in its early years it had been famed. 
 The character I heard of its owner, was so excellent, 
 that the ' pretty island' gained infinitely by associa- 
 tion with his name. 
 
 It would seem, by the enthusiastic encomiums 
 of our boatman, that the family of Borromeo trans- 
 mit their virtues from father to son, and have done 
 so for many years, since the time of the benevolent 
 San Carlo to the heirs of the present day. The 
 poor are constantly employed by the reigning 
 Count, who spends his large fortune in ceaseless acts 
 of goodness and charity. 
 
 Nothing can be more enjoyable than the row across 
 the lake to Laveno, and we arrived in time to escape 
 the storm, whose approach had freshened the breeze 
 on our way. 
 
 Laveno is a quiet little place with a very good inn. 
 A pretty young girl of sixteen, who told us her name 
 was Martina, attended us, assisted by a stout young 
 woman who wore the beautiful auriole of silver pins, 
 Martina told me she never thus adorned her own 
 
214 MARTINA OF LAVENO. 
 
 shining hair, as she considered it a dirty practice, 
 found the pins heavy and inconvenient, "and besides," 
 said she, " they are the costume of the peasants." 
 I thought her charming head would have looked 
 particularly well with the addition, but as it is con- 
 sidered vulgar, no doubt the graceful fashion will 
 before long be discontinued. 
 
 We enjoyed the moonlight on the lake and the 
 distant mountains for a time, but the " sempre tem- 
 porale !" put an end to our pleasure, except at 
 intervals. 
 
 I slept in a chamber which opened as several others 
 did, on to a balcony, surrounding the house on three 
 sides and overlooking the lake : a somewhat unmu- 
 sical concert under my windows prevented my re- 
 tiring while the moon was still visible, and I was at 
 length awakened from my first sleep by a thundering 
 sound, as if all the ice of the neighbouring mountains 
 had been sent down against the hotel. A furious 
 storm of hail was indeed battering the town of Laveno 
 and the noise it made, heard in the intervals of the 
 loud thunder peals, was appalling. 
 
 The next morning I looked out and found a thick 
 veil of fog spread far and wide over the lake and 
 mountains, so that not an inch of water could be seen. 
 As our intention was to return to Como that day, 
 we were somewhat annoyed at the little prospect we 
 had of fine weather across the mountains : we set 
 out in a soft rain, but had not proceeded far before 
 the sun changed the gloom into cheerfulness and 
 
THE ROUTE TO COMO. 215 
 
 rendered our drive pleasant. All the roads in this 
 region are admirable, and this between Laveno and 
 Como is as good as any ; the country full of smiling 
 beauty and grandeur alternating in continued variety. 
 
 Again, and for many leagues on our route, we 
 were amused with the sight of the mulberry-leaf 
 gatherers, perched like large birds in the naked trees 
 M^hich they were stripping, and filling their gracefully 
 shaped suspended baskets with the spoil. 
 
 We entered Como by a new road and thus had an 
 opportunity of seeing the fine old town under several 
 aspects: nothing can be more imposing than the 
 immense ivy-covered walls and the broad ditch of 
 defence, now luxuriantly filled with delicate acacias : 
 massive and grand and threatening rise the lofty 
 andstupendous towers which once had to stand many 
 a siege directed against them by the envious Milanese, 
 who during the greatest part of the twelfth century 
 were bitter foes of the bold, hardy and valiant Co- 
 maschi, who in their love of independence, partook 
 a great deal of the nature of their neighbours the 
 Swiss. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE DEMONSTRATIVE KNIFE VENDOR — THE SILK-WORKERS OF 
 SAN MARTINO — THE RESIGONE — THE WONDER AT LECCO — 
 THE HOTEL — STORM — PALAZZUOLO— THE THREE FAT GRACES 
 — BRESCIA — THE FAME— MUSEUM— PLINY-— MORETTO— LAGO 
 DI GARDA — DEZENZANO— MILTON AND BYRON. 
 
 We remained but a short time at Como to resume 
 our baggage and carriage, which had been left there 
 during our exploring trip. Once more I entered the 
 town to look again at the Cathedral and San Fedele. 
 As I paused under the antique arcades I was amused 
 bythe clamorous vociferations of a vendor of knives 
 who occupied the centre of the street. He was a man 
 of gigantic stature and wild countenance, and his 
 dress was as wild as his expression : he wore a white 
 cap with a handkerchief rolled round it in turban 
 form, had a showy waistcoat and his coat hanging 
 over his shoulder in the Irish fashion not unusual in 
 these regions, white stockings and sabots with leather 
 tips for the toes. He bore a long pole with a cross 
 piece at the top pierced with holes in which was 
 placed a formidable row of open knives of all sizes, 
 some of stiletto shape and some for hunter's use as 
 well as for the board. Thus armed, with all his 
 wares in evidence, he stalked boldly on, proclaiming 
 at the top of his voice the virtues of his goods, while 
 the clamour he made caused every one to look up at 
 
THE SILK WORKERS OF SAN MARTINO. 217 
 
 his extraordinary travelling shop, which he flourished 
 above his head making the fierce blades shimmer in 
 the sun. 
 
 It was market day at Como and the streets were 
 much embellished by the quantity of fruit and 
 flowers displayed on the pavement and the bright 
 coloured cotton handkerchiefs of the market women, 
 together with their shining silver pins newly ar- 
 ranged for the important occasion. 
 
 Our destination was now to Lecco, on the other 
 arm of the lake of Como, and we began our agree- 
 able drive late in the afternoon of a beautiful day, 
 such as invariably succeeded the storm of the night 
 before. The high hill above Como, on this route, 
 is crowned by an imposing looking building of 
 great extent, the silk manufactory of San Martino, 
 hurrying towards which we observed groups of 
 very young girls who were mounting the height 
 from the neighbouring villages. The sun was ex- 
 tremely powerful, and the walk seemed sufficiently 
 toilsome to these little damsels who trudged along 
 by the side of the carriage for some distance, their 
 heads covered with large cotton handkerchiefs of 
 the most brilliant hues, their legs naked, and 
 feet defended by sabots with leather toes : many of 
 them had red and fair hair, and they were generally 
 much more Swiss or German in their complexions 
 than Italian. 
 
 From the hill of San Martino, the town, the 
 Duomo and the port of Como have a good effect, 
 
218 THE RESIGONE. 
 
 and the scenery round is beautiful in the extreme. 
 The road presents many objects of interest and all 
 is richness and cultivation. Villas, finely built, 
 adorned with luxuriant gardens, occur frequently, 
 evidences of riches and comfort, such as are seldom 
 met with out of England. 
 
 We passed through several decayed towns whi^h 
 must once have been of importance, and more than 
 one antique ruined tower told of former strength 
 and the warfare of days gone by. 
 
 On a sudden, after we had surmounted a high hill, 
 our road began to descend, and shining brightly in the 
 declining sun, rose before us a fine alp, glittering with 
 glaciers, and below it a row of lower hills of strange 
 forms clearly defined against the blue background. 
 Through vineyards, and by enclosed gardens full of 
 flowers, we went on, and arrived at a village, the 
 streets of which were so narrow that it appeared at 
 first impossible to pass: huge ruined towers and 
 thick crumbling walls, told of its former conse- 
 quence, and how this mountain hold must once have 
 been attacked and defended before either Como or 
 Lecco could have been approached by an enemy. 
 
 Before us, for some time, I had observed a series 
 of notched rocks which rose like a wall, as if in our 
 path, at a distance : but, as the sky had become 
 shadowed by hurrying clouds, I imagined my sight 
 was deceived by their descent on the mountains, to 
 which, perhaps, they had given this remarkable 
 appearance. As, however, I watched the effect, 
 
THE WONDER AT LECCO. 219 
 
 expecting a change, I perceived that this extraordi- 
 nary range was indeed such as I had imagined it, 
 for, coming suddenly in view of the lake, we saw 
 distinctly rising from it the whole gigantic figure 
 of the rocky barrier, jagged and notched like a huge 
 saw, as its name Resigone signifies. 
 
 Marvellous is the effect of these mountains, which 
 are wilder and more spectral than anything I 
 ever beheld, and give an idea of desolation and 
 savageness, such as belongs to no other part of 
 the interesting lake, which here takes the name of 
 the town at its extremity, and is called the Lago di 
 Lecco. 
 
 We crossed the rushing Adda over a fine bridge, 
 and drove into the town of Lecco just as the shades 
 of evening began to fall, and the gathering clouds 
 announced that the rendezvous of the nightly storm 
 had been fixed upon amongst the jagged mountains 
 of San Martino. 
 
 In descending the precipitous hill which leads to 
 the bridge one of our horses had fallen and was 
 considerably hurt. Though alarmed at the moment 
 of its fall, we were not aware of the injury the poor 
 animal had sustained : it was therefore with infi- 
 nite surprise, that as our vehicle stood in the large 
 square opposite the hotel of Lecco, while negocia- 
 tions were being made for our accommodation for the 
 night, we found ourselves surrounded by a crowd 
 of inquisitive natives, who began to gaze and specu- 
 late and vociferate in a manner quite unaccountable 
 
220 
 
 THE HOTEL AT LECCO. 
 
 to US. By degrees, the crowd increased, till the 
 whole space seemed filled by staring towns- 
 men, and presently dark faces peeped unceremo- 
 niously into our windows, while the immoveable 
 postillion sat fixed on his horse, resolved to keep his 
 contemptuous silence, which he opposed to the 
 numerous inquiries addressed to him respecting the 
 accident which had caused such injury to his 
 beasts. 
 
 We began to feel uneasy, and expected every 
 moment to see the door burst open, that these in- 
 quisitive or commiserative folks of Lecco might be 
 satisfied that no victims were contained inside, when 
 a signal from the hotel yard announced that the 
 lord of the castle permitted us to enter, and take up 
 our abode under his roof. 
 
 Why there had been any demur on the occasion 
 remained a mystery, for we were immediately 
 ushered into chambers of such dimensions that those 
 even of Magadino sunk into insignificance before 
 them. That which was allotted me was of wondrous 
 size, divided into compartments by two large re- 
 cesses, each containing two beds, so that I had no 
 less than four at my command, and found some 
 hesitation in choosing amongst them. It would 
 appear as if whole armies were provided for in these 
 localities, or as if travellers came not in single file, 
 but in battalions, since every room is provided with 
 so many accommodations. 
 
 A refreshing odour pervaded this fine apartment. 
 
STORM AT LECCO. 221 
 
 which was fitted up with splendid furniture entirely- 
 new, and I soon found that the perfume came from 
 the beautiful Spanish matting with which the floors 
 were covered. Nothing can be more delicious to 
 the smell or charming to the eye than this floor- 
 cloth : the pattern is exquisite, of various colours 
 and graceful forms, plaited with the nicest art, like 
 the mosaic of a marble bath."^ 
 
 The weather was, at this time, extremely sultry, 
 but, in most of these fine hotels, there is every pre- 
 paration for cold weather : good fireplaces and a 
 plentiful supply of fuel in baskets. Of course, the 
 sudden changes of temperature amongst the snowy 
 mountains render this precaution requisite. 
 
 We had scarcely seated ourselves and begun to 
 feel at home for the night when the lightning which 
 I had been watching from my huge windows for 
 some time, as it played amongst the dark forked 
 peaks of the rugged rocks exactly opposite, began to 
 flash more and more vividly, and alongloud call echoed 
 from mountain to mountain, summoning the demons 
 of the storm to their nightly occupation. 
 
 From that time for some hours into the night, 
 till I was literally weary with watching its savage 
 gambols, the tempest raged with extraordinary fury, 
 and presented the most magnificent spectacle it is 
 possible to imagine. 
 
 Jutting out from the wing of the large building 
 
 * This hotel is new since Murray's report of all the inns being 
 bad at Lecco. 
 
222 THE STORM. 
 
 in which my room was situated, extended a terrace 
 garden, whose walls were crowned with wliite marble 
 draperied statues, standing amidst vases of aloe, 
 orange, and flowering shrubs. This projection cast 
 a broad shadow into the lake which bathed it : 
 while the waves, as large and foamy as those of the 
 sea, dashed furiously against the resisting walls, 
 throwing their spray far up into the sky. The dark 
 mass of rocks on the opposite shore of the lake were 
 brought out in bright relief by the sheeted blue 
 lightning, which played ceaselessly over them, and 
 flashed over the black clouds behind. The thunder's 
 growling voice never paused a moment, and its 
 prolonging echoes made the whole space resound. 
 In spite of the lights in my large room the vivid 
 flashes gleamed fearfully through in every part, 
 and every now and then the casements, which I 
 frequently and vainly attempted to keep closed, burst 
 open with a roar of wind and the pelting rain came 
 dancing into the chamber. The lake was all this 
 time now one sheet of light, now a broad mass of 
 black shadow — sometimes reflecting the rugged 
 rocks as in a mirror, and at others dark and terrible 
 down to the caverns in its unseen depths. 
 
 This stormy night at Lecco at an end, produced 
 a wet morning, which cleared by degrees, and we 
 continued our way towards Bergamo by a delightful 
 country for some distance, replaced by less interest- 
 ing scenery. Evidences of extensive commerce met 
 us on the road in the heavily laden carts, whose 
 
PALAZZUOLO. 223 
 
 precious cargo of Bilk was carefully defended by 
 awnings of thick matting, neatly arranged over the 
 large round baskets which contained the merchan- 
 dise, and fastened with iron hoops. The horses 
 which draw this freight seem aware of its importance, 
 and pace along proudly, shaking their ornamented 
 fringes. 
 
 We did not stop at Bergamo, the birth place of 
 Harlequin, except to change horses: the upper 
 town stands well on its commanding height, and 
 the country is pleasing in the neighbourhood. As 
 we approached Palazzuolo, I was struck with the 
 imposing ruins which extend far along a hill at the 
 entrance of the insignificant little town, remains 
 doubtless of some strong castle which once guarded 
 its approach. 
 
 We were attracted by its lofty Campanile, which 
 must command an extensive view of the country 
 round ; there are several objects of interest in the 
 neighbourhood for the traveller who has time to 
 linger here, which we had not. While the horses 
 were changing, we entered the gateway of the inn 
 to look at a group of women, busily engaged in 
 the yard in winding cocoons, and in the delicate 
 operation of snatching them out of boiling water. 
 We were invited in by a party of women, whose 
 appearance was so extraordinary, that it seemed 
 necessary to rub one's eyes, in order not to suspect 
 that witchcraft was at work, and that the three odd 
 figures we saw were not one and the same, only 
 multiplied larger and larger. 
 
 r 
 
224 THE THREE FAT GRACES. 
 
 Three women stood in the gateway with their 
 hands in their pockets, all strikingly alike, but each 
 rather fatter and broader than her neighbour ; the 
 smallest could not be above thirty, had a pretty 
 cheerful countenance, and little teeth like pearls, 
 but her figure, like those of the rest, had no resem- 
 blance to anything but a barrel of oil, or a skin 
 full of butter. They wore no stays, and seemed 
 exactly of the same dimensions from waist to ancle. 
 Nothing about them had a semblance of humanity 
 but their heads, and shining black hair, which all 
 possessed in some beauty. Their drapery was ex- 
 ceedingly slovenly and scanty, and their fat heels 
 were not covered by any stocking ; they ran slip- 
 shod about, with much nimbleness, to shew us their 
 silk- worms, and appeared singularly pleased at the 
 interest we took in the occupation of their damsels, 
 for their own business seemed confined to gazing 
 out at their door, and gasping like overcome wal- 
 russes in a storm for breath, for the heat being 
 excessive, they probably suffered more from it than 
 other people. 
 
 They seemed to act with one accord, and all 
 talked and laughed together, proclaiming their 
 delight when they found we were English, as they 
 professed a particular fondness for that generous 
 nation. I was so astonished at these fat graces, 
 that I continued to contemplate them in unconcealed 
 admiration, much to their amusement and pleasure, 
 and most assuredly the burst of merriment which 
 
BRESCIA. 225 
 
 succeeded our departure, was shared by the strangers 
 who had just made their acquaintance. 
 
 Brescia '* Tarmata" has still her strong walls to 
 remind the traveller that she was once a place of 
 great importance, and her fortifications able to resist 
 the attacks of her numerous enemies. I took a 
 solitary walk on the desolate, deserted ramparts, 
 now overgrown with long rank grass ; except groups 
 of children playing on the steep steps which lead 
 from the street where the large hospital is placed, 
 there was no one to disturb the gloomy silence of 
 the walls which rise to a great height above the 
 ditch without and the roofs of the houses within, 
 and entirely enclose the town. Hills circle round 
 the wide plain, spread far below, which looked wild 
 and dreary, as I saw it in the grey evening. The 
 citadel rises proudly above the other buildings, and 
 commands the country. 
 
 The Roman antiquities alone of Brescia might 
 well detain an antiquarian traveller in this quiet 
 place. I hurried to the temple where most of the 
 wonders, discovered from time to time, during a 
 series of years, are preserved. Here is a crowd of 
 fine columns, broken capitals, bronzes, friezes, and 
 altars, all of great interest, and deserving more 
 careful study than a passer by can give. But one 
 treasure absorbs all attention, and almost prevents 
 any other from being noticed. This is the exquisite 
 bronze figure of Victory or Fame, for v\ hich Brescia 
 is renowned, and which is the glory of the museum. 
 
 Q 
 
226 THE FAME. 
 
 The beautiful fairy is placed in the centre of a 
 large apartment : she stands on, or rather seems to 
 be springing from a helmet (a restoration) on the 
 pedestal : her limbs are full of life and grace, her 
 feet perfection, her elevated arms all softness and 
 elegance, the turn of her head enchanting, and her 
 countenance beaming with expression. The drapery 
 is finely and delicately executed, and the wings which 
 could be taken off and on, are feathery and waving. 
 
 These wings were found separate, lying at the feet 
 of the statue, which appeared to have been buried 
 to secure it from injury, during some period of 
 commotion. 
 
 Fortunately it was not found for many centuries, 
 and consequently escaped the tender mercies of the 
 destroying armies under the Chevalier sans Peur, 
 which devastated the city in the sixteenth century. 
 
 This lovely genius holds a stylus in her hand, as 
 if about to engrave some famous name on enduring 
 brass : she is all lightness and spirit, and I can 
 imagine nothing in art to excel the perfection of her 
 proportions and expression. 
 
 Piled round the chamber which she adorns, are 
 numerous carved stones and pillars, and six gilded 
 bronze heads, very curious and characteristic : the 
 gold is as bright as if just applied, but there is little 
 to admire in the workmanship of most of them. 
 
 There is a beautiful hand and arm of large size, 
 and the beauty of its execution is equal to that of 
 the Fame. 
 
t 
 
 MUSEUM PLINY. 227 
 
 The temple in which the charming goddess, worthy 
 indeed to be worshipped by the lovers of art, is 
 placed, must doubtless have been magnificent, to 
 judge by the splendid remains of bronze and gilding 
 which seem to have formed a part of it, and Brescia 
 must once have taken her rank amongst the great 
 and beautiful cities of Italy, being adorned with such 
 w^orks of genius as the fragments now collected 
 display even in their mutilated state. 
 
 The classic poets have sung its praises and told 
 how fair the city once was ; Catullus knew it well, 
 for his beautiful lake and the ruins of his lovely villa 
 are in the neighbourhood, and Virgil was acquainted 
 with the charms of the flowing Mela which still 
 bathes its feet. 
 
 Not Roman antiquities alone enrich the museum, 
 but relics of the Lombard period are to be seen in pro- 
 fusion, all interesting to historians and very curious. 
 
 Pliny names Brescia (Brixia), as one of those pro- 
 vinces of Italy, which still, in his time, retained much 
 of the frugal simplicity and purity of ancient manners, 
 and having been requested by a friend to point out 
 an eligible match for his niece, he names a gentleman 
 from Brixia. 
 
 It would occupy some time to visit all the churches 
 at Brescia and to examine them minutely : those we 
 had time to see did not impress me with particular 
 admiration. Neither of the two Duomos are attrac- 
 tive, though there are many interesting recol- 
 lections attached to them : Queen Theodolinda's 
 
 q2 
 
228 
 
 MORETTO. 
 
 baptistry, once a remarkable feature, was destroyed 
 and replaced by the Duomo Nuovo, which has a fine 
 dome and is handsome, but presents no antiquities 
 nor pictures of any particular value. In the piazza 
 where these two Cathedrals stand is a gigantic tower 
 with forked battlements, all that is left of the ancient 
 Broletto, but the unfinished slovenly aspect of the 
 square distresses the eye. 
 
 There are a few good specimens in Brescia of the 
 paintings of Moretto, who was born at a village in 
 the neighbourhood. In the Brera palace at Milan 
 I had admired his fine spirited figures with their real 
 draperies, placed in a clear light sky and standing 
 out in bright relief, but in the general darkness of 
 the churches, I found it extremely difficult to discover 
 his beauties. Several painters of celebrity were born 
 in this part of Italy, of whose works the numerous 
 churches of Brescia preserve memorials, but at Venice 
 I had a better opportunity of seeing them, for there 
 some of the finest are still to be found. 
 
 The morning was bright and fresh on which we 
 left Brescia, of which I regretted that time did not 
 allow of my seeing more, on our way to Verona, and 
 on the borders of the lovely lake of Garda we paused 
 an hour, at the pretty inn there. The sun was so 
 brilliant that we scarcely dared open the fastly closed 
 blinds of a long range of windows which give a 
 splendid prospect of the lake and mountains. 
 
 If any thing can be said to approach in beauty 
 the enchanting shores of Lake Como it is Desenzano, 
 
LAGO DI GARDA. 229 
 
 from whence, as at Bellaggio, the glories of the lake 
 are spread out in endless variety. 
 
 The Lago di Garda has a different character from 
 that of Como : the shores struck me as wilder, and 
 the mountains more piled over each other : the vivid 
 tint of the deep blue waters is similar, and there are 
 the same splendid effects of light and shade producing 
 the same rich colours. 
 
 I cannot agree with those who think that the Lago 
 di Garda and'its mountains possess a style of colour 
 differing from the other Italian lakes ; it appears to 
 me that light and shade are the causes of these pe- 
 culiar appearances, and I think it depends upon the 
 period at which they are seen whether they resemble 
 each other in this instance or not. In Switzerland 
 I observed the same, and cannot name any particular 
 lake which in tints of blue or green is always supe- 
 rior to its neighbour and rival. The unapproach- 
 able purple of the Rhone at Geneva is the only ex- 
 ception I have met with. 
 
 The hotel at Desenzano is good and comfortable, 
 whether Murray's strictures in his admirable guide 
 book have been repeated to all the inn-keepers on the 
 road and a reform has followed, I know not ; but 
 we frequently found those which he condemns wor- 
 thy of praise, and in the instance of Desenzano, it 
 was certainly the case. Many persons remain for 
 several months in apartments at this lovely place, 
 where there is constant amusement on the lake, and 
 numerous spots of interest to be visited, as many 
 
230 
 
 SEUMIONE. 
 
 perhaps, as from my favourite retreat of Como, even 
 though the wilder charms I found here did not de- 
 light me equally in my much shorter visit. 
 
 Along these charming shores we continued our 
 wanderings and nothing but beauty met our eyes : 
 richly purple rose the magnificent mountains, and 
 the blue waves rippled gently to the land, shining 
 in a brilliant sun which made all nature gay. 
 
 Rising from the circling waters and crowned by 
 a diadem of ruins, appears the far-famed classic 
 Sermione, where Roman walls and towers of the 
 Scaligeri divide the heights. Against the cloudless 
 azure sky these singular shaped relics of several 
 ages come forth in amazing grandeur, they are very 
 extensive, and from their forms have a mysterious 
 and startling effect. 
 
 Before we arrived at Peschiera I had observed 
 that the sides of the shore were deeply fringed with 
 reeds, and when I heard the name of the river which 
 here issues from the lake I was agreeably reminded 
 of the correctness of the great poet who celebrates 
 the 
 
 " honour' d flood. 
 Smooth sliding Mincius crown' d with vocal reeds ;" 
 
 and acknowledged to myself with delight that the 
 scenes dwelt upon by an inspired minstrel are always 
 described the best. 
 
 Milton, when he names a spot in his glorious 
 poems, always condescends to be correct, whether he 
 place his glowing descriptions in Asia or in Europe ; 
 
MILTON AND BYRON. 231 
 
 Jiis wondrous truth is only equalled by his wondrous 
 learning, and those but by his wondrous memory, 
 w^hich treasured all it had once known, never to fade 
 or be forgotten. He meant not alone to designate 
 the vocal reed of the poet, whose abode crowned 
 the watery waste, but he points out the scenery 
 itself, where that poet sung on Mincio's banks.* 
 
 I had afterwards occasion to make the same 
 remarks, as I followed the footsteps of the mighty 
 master of our own day from Venice, which he made 
 his own, through Switzerland, whose mountains and 
 lakes he has immortalized as much as nature her- 
 self, and from whom his memory is inseparable. 
 No doubt, if ever my fortunate star leads me 
 further on his track, I shall find him as minutely 
 correct in all his powerful imagery, as on the spots 
 which his verse made me at once recognise. 
 
 * Virgil and Claudian both name the Mincio as slow and full 
 of reeds. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 VERONA. 
 
 2nd Outlaw. Whither travel you ? 
 Valentine. To Verona. 
 1st Outlaw. Whence came you ? 
 Valentine. From Milan. 
 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona. 
 
 VERONA — D^REAMS OF ROMANCE — LOCALITIES —BALCONIES — 
 CAPELLETTl — VEILS — PIAZZAS — PIAZZA DEL ERBI — SCALIGERI 
 — CAN GRANDE — CANOSSI — BIRD-FISH OF MONTE BOLCAN — 
 THE ADIGE— ROMAN ARCHES— AMPHITHEATRE. 
 
 When Dante in the very prime of his life wa& 
 forced to quit his studies, and lay aside that 
 
 " Golden lyre which all the Muses claim," 
 and wander, an exile, from his native Florence, he 
 bestowed some of his immortality on the cities 
 through which he passed, in Tuscany and Lom- 
 bardy, and it is pleasant to trace his devious way as 
 he visited various places in the North of Italy, cele- 
 brated for their universities. From Bologna to 
 Padua, from Padua to Venice, the poet passed 
 backwards and forwards, observing the country and 
 its peaceful arts, and sighing to reflect on the cruel 
 contentions which tore its cities to pieces, and 
 destroyed the promises which genius and industry 
 gave of happiness and prosperity. 
 
VERONA. 233 
 
 What an age that was of Dante ! how many 
 stirring spirits were abroad, both for good and evil ! 
 Then Cimabue and his illustrious pupil Giotto, 
 whose hand traced the features of the great poet, 
 clad in his strange and monk -like cowl, began that 
 wondrous art, which in their hands, although but 
 in its infancy, is still grand, then Oderisa da 
 Gubbio, with microscopic touch, produced minia- 
 tures which a> succeeding age has not equalled : 
 then Casella gave expression to the instrument, to 
 whose sound the mighty master might sing of love 
 and mystery. Then the schools of Florence fos- 
 tered learning, and Guido Cavalcanti, and Guido 
 Guinizelli put forth their claims of rivalship with 
 their youthful friend, whose fame afterwards eclipsed 
 them. 
 
 Alas ! that Guelphs and Ghibelines, Bianchi and 
 and Neri should extinguish or obscure so much 
 genius, and keep the world in darkness, when such 
 bright lights were struggling to illuminate it I 
 Alas ! that the immortal poet should have been 
 forced to take part with factions instead of devoting 
 his whole mind to his real calling, and have allowed 
 bitter feelings to blot the glories of his genius. 
 
 Like Petrarch, Dante, a hater of oppression, was 
 condemned to choose his asylum in courts, and those 
 the courts of tyrants, of the Visconti of Milan and of 
 the Delia Scala at Verona. It was at Verona, where 
 the Can Grande reigned in state, that, after many 
 wanderings, Dante returned and thrilled his auditors 
 
234 VERONA. 
 
 with his surpassing learning displayed in a dis- 
 course on Earth and Water, as if to shew that he had 
 power over the elements. The fame he acquired 
 on this occasion revived his drooping mind, and he 
 exclaimed, " that it had power to reanimate him 
 even in the bitterness of exile."* 
 
 I entered Verona in the middle of the day when 
 the sun was shining brightly on its forked battle- 
 ments, and the rapid foaming river, which we 
 crossed, was sparkling in the brilliant rays, and 
 rushing gayly along with its ceaseless song, past 
 the stately palaces which bound its tide. 
 
 One of the great wishes of my life, from the time 
 when I first delighted in the jmmortal romance of 
 the lovers of Verona, had been to behold the scene 
 where that most affecting of all tragedies, and en- 
 dearing of all stories to the young and inexperienced, 
 took place — or might have taken place. It matters 
 little whether the legend is true, nor does it signify 
 whether the house shewn as the palace of the 
 Capulets, or the sarcophagus as the tomb of their 
 daughter, are veritable or not. There is not an 
 association about Verona which is not full of exciting 
 interest, and Venice itself is not more precious in its 
 memorials than this delightful city, a museum of 
 endless curiosities, an emporium of exhaustless 
 treasures. While I was yet a child, I had associated 
 myself with Verona, and a friend who was indulgent 
 to my youthful romance, had visited the city almost 
 * Mariotti's Italy. 
 
DREAMS OF ROMANCE. 235 
 
 for my sake, and sent me drawings and records of 
 all that so much pleased my fancy. There is a long 
 vacuum between that time and the present, many 
 visions of enthusiasm have meanwhile passed away, 
 and it was with a feeling of 
 
 " . . . . shame in crowds. 
 And solitary pride," 
 
 that I confessed to myself the fact that my long 
 anticipated delight on really finding I was at Verona, 
 had lost none of its intensity. 
 
 " Are these the ancient turrets of Verona !" 
 
 When English strangers first began to inquire, 
 and to search after the memorials of those far-famed 
 and cherished lovers, the Mejnun and Leila of the 
 West, they were easily led to believe all that Italian 
 ingenuity suggested, and no bounds were put to 
 their credulity. An antique stone cofliin, belonging 
 to some hero of the Longobardi race, was, without 
 question, received as Juliet's tomb, and was chipped 
 and cut into minute objects as relics to be carried 
 away by the devotees. The first old houses that 
 were fixed upon served for the several abodes of 
 the ill-fated pair, and imagination supplied every 
 want without hesitation. 
 
 I knew an enthusiast who spent some time in the 
 ruined shed where Juliet's tomb reposes, and who 
 laid himself at full length within the sarcophagus, 
 reciting some of the ' words that burn,' with which 
 she enchanted her unfortunate lover. The guides 
 
236 
 
 LOCALITIES. 
 
 stood by in amazement then, but since they have 
 become hardened to such scenes ; after the usually 
 cold indifferent islanders came to be looked upon as 
 pazzi per ajnore, they were considered as legitimate 
 objects of imposition, and scarcely a question could 
 be asked by the sentimental, for which a ready and 
 satisfactory answer was not found. I have no doubt 
 that the very * dove-house yard,' the * friar's cell/ 
 the palace of the * flower of Verona's summer,' even 
 the cottages honoured by the residence of * Peter's' 
 mother, and the relatives of ' Gregory' could be 
 shewn, as well as the cobler's, to whose stall the 
 * pumps unpinked at the heel,* were sent, and the 
 shop where the daggers for new ' sheathing' were 
 despatched on the eve of the grand banquet, when 
 the fatal meeting took place of those 
 
 " Too early seen unknown, and known too late ;*' 
 
 when those sweet words were whispered by Guilietta, 
 " Benedetta la vostra venute qui presso me, messer Romeo." 
 
 But it is now far different in Verona ; there has been 
 too much scorn poured forth by the unsentimental, 
 too much ridicule by the * severely wise,' and Eng- 
 lish travellers, at the present day, hardly venture 
 to think of Romeo and Juliet, or Shakespeare at 
 all. 
 
 A sulky German woman shewed me the sarco- 
 phagus, called Juliet's tomb, which still stands in 
 a dirty shed at the bottom of a slovenly but luxuriant 
 garden, evidently once belonging to a convent, no 
 
CAPELLETTI. 237 
 
 doubt that of Friar Lawrence. The coffin was half 
 full of water ; the edges of red marble were much 
 mutilated, having been chipped to make relics; 
 there is a circular depression in the stone to receive 
 the head of the corpse, and it is of very large size, 
 and clumsily constructed. It is certainly, although 
 earlier than the date assigned as the period when 
 the lovers lived, not Roman, as has been asserted, 
 and that is all that can probably be known about it. 
 
 A shabby old house, now a common inn, is shewn 
 as the palace of the Capulets ; the antique vaulted 
 passage, under which I passed to the yard behind, 
 is curious, and there is much in the building which 
 proves it to belong to the thirteenth century : a 
 row of pretty ancient pointed windows, may have 
 faced the garden, and to one of them Juliet's balcony 
 might have been attached ; though this is one of 
 the few houses in Verona which has no balcony. I 
 never saw so many in any place before, and a few 
 are extremely ancient, some of carved wood, and 
 some of ponderous ornamented stone. The narrow 
 streets, adorned with these projections to every 
 story, with coloured awnings above them, have a 
 picturesque appearance, even more striking than at 
 Milan, where every thing is more refined and 
 modern than in this old town. 
 
 I felt quite content, as T looked up at one of these 
 windows of the Capelletti palace to believe that it 
 was from thence Guilietta leaned, " nel tempo di 
 Bartolommeo della Scala,*' when, as da Porta relates, 
 
238 VEILS. 
 
 " avvenne una notte, come amor voile, la luna pii\ 
 del solito rilucendo, che mentre Romeo era per 
 salire sopra il detto balcone, la giovane (o che cio a 
 casa fosse, o che Taltre sere udito Tavesse) ad aprire 
 quella finestra ne venne, e fattasi fuori il vide : il 
 quale, credendo che non elle, ma qualche altro, il 
 balcone aprisse, nelFombra di alcun muro fuggir 
 voleva ; onde ella conosciutolo, e per nome chiama- 
 tolo, gli disse : che fate qui a quest'ora cosi solo ?" 
 
 I left the street, satisfied with my belief, and not 
 without repe^ing the words of the simple chronicler 
 of the, perhaps, o'er true tale : 
 
 "Tal misero fine 'ebbe I'amore di Romeo e Guilietta." 
 
 The women of Verona wear white veils instead of 
 black, and carry their fans with the same graceful 
 air as at Milan. In the market-place I observed 
 many whose head-dress was a straw hat, and not a 
 few, in Welsh fashion, with black beaver hats, men's 
 shape, particularly inelegant and unsightly. I 
 afterwards got accustomed to this unbecoming cos- 
 tume, which is common in the Tyrol, but can never 
 be reconciled to its effect. 
 
 There is a great deal of building going on at Ve- 
 rona, and heaps of old houses are being cleared away 
 daily. One wonders when these improvements were 
 begun, for one always seems to arrive when they 
 are in the very act of being perpetrated, and every- 
 where parts of every city I saw were in a state 
 of confusion indescribable, disclosing bare walls 
 
PIAZZAS. 239 
 
 and old gables of frightful antiquity. The most 
 inveterate lover of auld- world wonders cannot regret 
 the removal of such close dens as are swept away 
 by these renovating acts, since modern people are 
 still to live in the ancient cities, and it was amongst 
 these haunts that were kept concealed the germs of 
 plague and fever. 
 
 The fine old piazzas of Verona, however, need not 
 be destroyed : the arcades may remain, and whole 
 streets of curious houses : though every year part of 
 its antiquity must disappear, it can never wear alto- 
 gether a modern aspect, while the fine old irregular 
 bridge, which divides it in two, still raises its forked 
 parapets, its rugged old towers and venerable walls, 
 jagged and looped, too strong to be beaten down, yet 
 remain : and, above all, while the pride of its trea- 
 sures, the magnificent Roman amphitheatre, stands 
 conspicuously forth to tell how great and glorious 
 it once was amongst the cities of Italy. 
 
 Verona is full of dirty people — slovenly, shabby, 
 ugly people : — its lower orders do not seem to know 
 what neatness means ; they are wild and coarse in 
 their manners, not uncivil but savage, with none of 
 the native grace and gentleness which had so pleased 
 me hitherto, and sometimes made rags and dirt for- 
 gotten. I saw no such lovely faces as at Lomellino 
 or near Como, either male or female, and I looked 
 in vain amongst the townswomen and men for the 
 beauty of Juliet or of the ' loving Proteus.' Never- 
 theless, at a distance, the girls with their large green 
 
 i 
 
240 PIAZZA DEL ERDI. 
 
 fans and in their white muslin veils and dark dresses 
 looked picturesque, and some of the commoner sort, 
 wearing white muslin shawls elaborately embroidered 
 and their heads covered with square handkerchiefs, 
 were pleasing to the eye. If this white drapery were 
 always fresh and clean, it would be very pretty, but 
 as that is not the case, one cannot but regret that 
 black is not more general. 
 
 We went several times into the Piazza del Erbi, 
 with a hope of being able to sketch some of the 
 groups and buildings with which this curious spot 
 is crowded, but were so persecuted by inquisitive 
 neighbours of all kinds, most of them extremely 
 filthy, that we were soon constrained to give up the 
 attempt. 
 
 This Piazza del Erbi is one of the most charac- 
 teristic spots I ever beheld : it has relics of half a 
 dozen ages in its arena, and the eye is as confused as 
 the mind in gazing upon it. 
 
 A fine tall Roman column, with its beautiful 
 capital festooned with grass and wild flowers, stands 
 alone at the entrance of the Piazza, which, from 
 its length, appears narrower than it really is. At 
 the end near the column stands a palace decorated 
 profusely with pillars, carved work, balconies and 
 statues of marble. Shops of all sorts are round, 
 chiefly jewellers and bakers, oddly mixed : the 
 former are not very splendid, and the latter are 
 filled with singular-shaped loaves, long, short, and 
 round and flat, of every possible variety, the bread 
 
PIAZZA DEL ERBI. 241 
 
 being remarkably white and good here. Two foun- 
 tains occupy the centre of the market place, or 
 Mercato Vecchio, one Gothic and one in the form 
 of a Roman temple. The whole space is occupied 
 by stalls, at which the vendors sit under large fixed 
 umbrellas, with their luxuriant stores of fruit and 
 vegetables, and baskets of all kinds of graceful forms 
 scattered here and there ; pyramids of loaves piled 
 on tables, and pyramids of glasses for iced water 
 crowned with a bouquet of lilies are placed in 
 different quarters. A fine carved and painted hall 
 of justice raises its beautiful facade above these 
 groups : rich arcades and delicate porticoes are 
 jammed in with low mean houses and shops, and 
 countless balconies and bright- coloured awnings 
 come out richly against the dim dingy buildings 
 they adorn. 
 
 A high Campanile crowns the whole, peering over 
 the confused scene, like an inquisitive spirit, ghastly 
 long and thin, and belonging to an age gone by. 
 
 Close to this is the Piazza dei Signori, and the 
 Scaligeri palace, and beyond is an archway leading 
 to the strange group of pinnacles and temples close 
 to the street, called the tombs of the Scaligeri. 
 
 I could scarcely comprehend the meaning of what 
 I beheld, when, emerging from the archway of il 
 volto barbaro, beneath whose gloomy shade the 
 Capitano del Popolo, Mastino, was assassinated in 
 1277, I came at once to the iron gates of the burial- 
 ground of Santa Maria I'Antica. Though the 
 
242 SrALIGERI. 
 
 original spot where tlie great Scaligeri were entombed, 
 this enclosure, hemmed in by houses and in a narrow 
 street, now undergoing repairs, has much more the 
 air of a destination to which it was in later times 
 reduced, namely, that of forming the last resting 
 place to condemned criminals. 
 
 Here, in fretted temples, rich in carving, all lace 
 work and flowered pinnacles, slender columns, niches, 
 arches, pedestals, statues, lanterns, crosses, circles, ara- 
 besques and wreaths, lie the illustrious chiefs of a 
 family whose first hero saved Verona from the dragon 
 fangs of the horrible Ezzolino. Here lies the il- 
 lustrious unknown Mastino, who made a lineage for 
 himself; here the amiable Alberto and his son Bar- 
 tolomeo, that " kind duke'' whose word 
 
 " setting aside the law. 
 Had turned that black word death to banishment," 
 
 when 
 
 " Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood :" 
 and here are the bones of Can Grande, that great 
 lion amongst dogs,* who gave an asylum in his 
 splendid court to the immortal Dante. 
 
 Here rises the temple tomb of the murderer, Can 
 Signore, prouder than the rest, with an equestrian 
 figure surmounting the highest pinnacle, and seeming 
 to challenge the other mounted knights who keep 
 him company to accuse, if they dare, the recumbent 
 
 * Surely the real meaning of the singular name Cane has nothing 
 to do with Dog : why should it not be an eastern title, derived from 
 Khan ? — a much more pleasing though perhaps erroneous idea.' 
 
'^ttii< 
 
 CAN SIGNORE. 243 
 
 ief who lies beneath, and who is surrounded by 
 all the virtues and charities. Can Signore erected 
 this magnificent tomb in his own lifetime, resolving 
 that no efforts should be spared to convince posterity 
 that he possessed all the good qualities which the 
 assassination of two brothers might seem to 
 contradict. 
 Ipl- The strange old jagged turrets of the palace peer 
 over the surrounding buildings, as if anxious to hear 
 the stranger's opinion of the worthies with whom 
 they were contemporary. 
 
 Altogether this collection of tombs is the most 
 extraordinary and interesting imaginable, and is a 
 history in itself of that famous race of Scaligeri 
 who climbed by the ladder of popularity to sovereign 
 power. 
 
 One of the many fine palaces at Verona was all I 
 had an opportunity of visiting ; the Palazzo Canossi, 
 famous as the place where Napoleon resided during 
 his stay at Verona. The apartments occupied by 
 the great conqueror are still shewn with considerable 
 pride, for there is by no means a feeling of enmity 
 towards him in Italy, as far as I could observe. The 
 floors of this palace are beautifully inlaid with differ- 
 ent coloured woods, instead of the fine stucco and 
 marble usually employed. The device of the family 
 of Canossi, a dog holding a bone, appears in numerous 
 compartments, and is repeated on walls and ceilings ; 
 it is to be wished it were a more poetical one as it 
 meets and wounds the eye so frequently. 
 
 R 2 
 
 I 
 
244 BIRD-FISH OF MONTR BOLCAN. 
 
 The suites of rooms are beautiful, and though 
 somewhat faded, the furniture is still very splendid 
 and arranged with much taste : there is a valuable 
 museum of natural history ranged round the walls of 
 several apartments, amongst which the most remark- 
 able portion is a collection of fossil remains, chiefly 
 of fishes from the neighbouring Monte Bolcan. One 
 specimen amongst many, was so extraordinary that 
 I stood before it in amazement, thinking, that after 
 al!. Sir John Mandeville, and it may be, even Fernan 
 Mendez Pinto, were not " liars of such magnitude" 
 as they have the credit of being. Embedded in a 
 nest of rock I beheld the exact and uninjured form 
 of an animal resembling a fish in its body, with fins 
 something like a flounder, but having a head precisely 
 similar to a bird with a cock's crest and curved beak. 
 Its brisk animated character contradicted the fact of 
 its having been for countless ages jammed between 
 two rocks : one almost expected it to crow, so lively 
 is the expression of its onward movement, arrested 
 doubtless in an instant by the closing of the stones 
 which caught it as it was swimming gayly towards 
 some object of interest. The answering piece of 
 rock lies beside this curiosity, in which its strange 
 form is repeated. 
 
 To geologists, accustomed to such marvels, this 
 bird-fish may be a common object, but it impressed 
 me with infinite wonder and amusement. 
 
 There are many pictures fading and mouldering 
 on the walls, but they are in general black and dingy, 
 
THE ADIGE. 246 
 
 and I was not attracted by any. The most inter- 
 esting part of the palace is the fine square at the back, 
 entered by a cortile with open arches, which is ter- 
 minated by a long marble balustrade overhanging 
 the rushing waters of the magnificent Adige, which 
 bathe the feet of this and a line of other handsome 
 palaces on its banks. So impetuous is the full broad 
 torrent that it is a startling sight to gaze below on 
 its wild waves, dashing and foaming and hurrying 
 along with incredible rapidity and continued murmur 
 beneath the various bridges whose high arches are 
 sometimes found inadequate to contain the mad fury 
 of its tide, when swollen by the melted snow from 
 the mountains. The fine old Ponte del Castello, 
 crowned with a long range of forked turrets, has 
 however withstood its anger for several centuries, 
 and probably may yet survive the more modern struc- 
 tures which span it. Beside it rises proudly the huge 
 deep red mass of the Castello Vecchio, built in 1355 
 by Can Grande : it is a most venerable and imposing 
 structure, and seems by its might and grandeur to 
 belong to the eternal river over which it nods. 
 
 The colour of the water of the Adige was on the 
 bright sunny day when I gazed upon it from the para- 
 pet of the Palazzo Canossi, of a rich clear green, and 
 every one of its waves was crested with pearly foam as 
 they danced and whirled along over the rugged rocks 
 that must cover the secret depths with caverns bristling 
 with pinnacles and spires. To live in a house on the 
 extreme verge of such a powerful torrent seems bold 
 
246 ROMAN ARCHTS. 
 
 in the extreme, and yet beautiful balconies filled with 
 flowers are hanging; gracefully over its raging course, 
 as if smiling at the commotion : it comes roaring 
 and tearing through the town, dividing it in half, 
 and all along its rocky borders stand these magnifi- 
 cent dwellings as far as the eye can reach. In 
 Venice it is the ocean itself which flows through "the 
 broad, the narrow streets" — but its bed is a soft ooze, 
 where no rocks disturb the general tranquiUity, so 
 that the same idea of peril does not attach to the 
 idea of the palaces growing out of the waters of that 
 ** city of the sea." 
 
 There are several Roman archways in the streets of 
 Verona, through which we drove many times in our 
 exploring expeditions, and I always experienced a 
 feeling of awe as I passed beneath these venerable 
 remains. One of them reminded me of that double 
 one at Autun which I had sought for with so much 
 interest, but this is much larger and appeared more 
 elaborate or less decayed than that fine Roman relic, 
 in one of the most antique and curious towns of 
 France* This arch at Verona is called the Porta dei 
 Borsari and is extremely imposing : another less 
 perfect is called the Porta de' Leoni, whose elegant 
 ranges of columns tell of its former grace and beauty. 
 The French destroyed a third ancient gateway, be- 
 cause it impeded the progress of their baggage 
 waggons : a few of its fragments remain. 
 
 On our way to the crowning glory of all the trea- 
 sures of charming Verona, the immortal amphi- 
 
AMPHITHEATRE. 247 
 
 theatre, I was amused at observing the manner in 
 which the inhabitants carried on their occupations in 
 the crowded narrow streets as regardless of the shock 
 of carts and carriages as of the wild uproar created 
 by their rushing and dangerous river. At several 
 doors I observed ranges of high stools, perched on 
 one of which a tailor with legs crossed would be 
 busily engaged in his trade ; his cloth and imple- 
 ments placed on a stool equally exalted, close behind 
 him : women were stuck up in the same manner above 
 the street, chattering laughing and working and 
 reaching over to a twin scat for what they wanted. 
 This custom may perhaps have arisen from the dark- 
 ness of the houses and the wet dirty state of the 
 streets in former days, but now all are as well paved 
 as in the other Italian towns. 
 
 The amphitheatre stands on one side of the Piazza 
 di Bra, which is a large space surrounded by a 
 crowd of buildings, some being destroyed and 
 some rebuilt, so that there is " admired con- 
 fusion" in its general aspect. Nothing can be more 
 solemn and splendid than the appearance of the 
 large circles of gigantic arches presented by a huge 
 mass of Roman architecture which meets the eye 
 on entering the square. 
 
 I had never been at Nismes or Aries, consequently 
 was not prepared to make comparisons, nor had I 
 ever seen any relic of Roman antiquity approach- 
 ing the magnitude of this glorious pile, so strangely 
 
248 AMPHITHEATHE. 
 
 perfect and so beautiful in itself. At first the solidity 
 and newness of the wide ranges of stone seats is 
 deceiving to the eye, and you fear that recent re- 
 pairs may have injured the purity of the antique, 
 but this circumstance adds to the interest when you 
 find that from the beginning of the twelfth century, 
 after an earthquake which had injured it, an edict 
 was passed enjoining the Veronese to continue its 
 restoration stone by stone, as might be required : 
 consequently this mighty arena, capable of con- 
 taining between twenty and thirty thousand people, 
 has never fallen to entire ruin : nor has it, as at 
 Nismes and other places, been used for purposes of 
 defence at any time, but has fulfilled its original 
 destination, being employed for tournaments, games 
 and combats for many succeeding ages. 
 
 There is something singularly pleasing to find 
 oneself seated on one of these benches, gazing round 
 on the extended space of the amphitheatre, which 
 seems interminably wide and spreading, and behold- 
 ing every range as smooth and perfect as at the 
 period when a Roman audience were expected. It 
 is not used now for any exhibition, and is therefore 
 seen to greater advantage than formerly, when 
 theatrical performances were here carried on : and 
 the arches are no longer occupied by petty traders, 
 who, till lately, had fixed their dwellings amongst 
 these venerable ruins. 
 
 By daylight, sunset, and by the light of a mag- 
 
AMPHITHEATRE. 249 
 
 nificent moon, I saw this beautiful building, each 
 time with renewed admiration and dehght, and I 
 cannot but think a journey to Verona is worth un- 
 dertaking if only for the sake of beholding her stately 
 amphitheatre. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 CHURCHE8 AT YE EON A —ORLANDO AND OLIVER — SAN ZENO AND 
 THE FIEND — MATILIANA — CRYPT — KING PEPIN — THE INTRU- 
 SION REPROVED — MOONLIGHT AT VERONA — NAMES — ROAD TO 
 VICENZA— VICENZA — PALLADIO— PALAZZO DELLA RAGIONE — 
 TEATRO OLIMPICO — TRiSSINO — COSTUME. 
 
 All round the piazza di Bra, at Verona, rise 
 fine edifices, the work of some great master of the 
 masonic art, stately and graceful, and commanding 
 the most admiring attention, but I was particularly 
 struck with a long range of enormously high forti- 
 fied walls, built of alternate stone and brick, in the 
 high * Roman fashion,' and here and there exhibit- 
 ing the forked battlements, loved by the Scaligeri : 
 these walls extend to a great distance and are very 
 strong and of most venerable aspect. 
 
 Verona was always strong in her fortifications, 
 and very recent additions have been made to her 
 former power. A new citadel of great importance 
 has been erected, which has a grand and command- 
 ing appearance, on a height above the town : the 
 Austrian government seem fully aware of the ad- 
 vantageous position of Verona la Degna, and are 
 neglecting nothing to render it as powerful and 
 threatening as in the days of Ezzolino and Can 
 Grande. 
 
ORLANDO AND OLIVER. 251 
 
 The churches of Verona are very curious, and, 
 if not altogether beautiful, possess many features of 
 remarkable interest not to be found elsewhere. The 
 Duomo has much of the remains of Roman architec- 
 ture, and in the chief porch of entrance the grotesque 
 carving is extremely curious ; two sentinel figures 
 represent two heroes, of no less importance than those 
 chiefs of Romance, 
 
 " Orlando brave, and Oliver," 
 
 instead of the saints who might be expected to guard 
 the sacred dome. There stands Orlando, as he stood 
 when his unwilling eyes read the lines traced by 
 Medoro on the grotto, proclaiming his happiness in 
 the love of the wayward Angelica. 
 
 Eimase al fin con gli occhi e con la mente, 
 Fisso nel sasso, al sasso indifferente. 
 
 He holds his famous sword Durindana in his 
 hand, that blade which, in his madness, he after- 
 wards abandoned with the rest of his armour, col- 
 lected by the unfortunate Zerbino to be restored 
 to him when his senses returned. Oliver stands 
 opposite him, armed and grim, and indeed neither 
 of these worthies are particularly pleasing to look 
 upon. 
 
 The portal of this church is covered with curious 
 carvings, which it requires much time to make out, 
 the figures they represent are a strange mixture of 
 the religious and romantic : Ariosto's heroes and 
 the saints. The characteristic features of the Duomo 
 
252 SAN ZENO AND THE FIEND. 
 
 are vastness and space, and it is said to be a good 
 specimen of Italian -Gothic. 
 
 In the baptistery is a remarkable font of great 
 size, of Verona marble, and there are some very 
 ancient tombs. Two enormous griffons of red mar- 
 ble, supporting columns, usher you into the interior 
 of the edifice. 
 
 The church of San Zeno, the patron saint of 
 Verona, interested me more than the Duomo, as it 
 has less evidence of modern restoration and is purer 
 in its remains of antiquity. According to the in- 
 variable fashion in the churches of Lombardy, two 
 large figures of lions, or rather nondescript animals, 
 crouch at the entrance, supporting the open porch : 
 one of these creatures is holding a horned human 
 head, very like one I afterwards saw on a font at 
 Torcello near Venice, and the other is crushing a 
 writhing horned serpent : these support red marble 
 pillars with elaborate capitals, surmounted by figures 
 of saints, projecting from the front of the porch. 
 
 The huge doors are of bronze, and more curious 
 than any I ever saw ; they are divided into com- 
 partments, representing celebrated events in the life 
 of Saint Zeno, who was a mighty wrestler with the 
 Father of Evil. A pretty animated boy of about 
 fourteen, who undertook to shew us the wonders of 
 the church amused me by his explanations of the 
 grotesque carvings ; there was certainly more en- 
 joyment of the ridiculous, than veneration for the 
 subject in his mode of detailing the saint's adven- 
 tures. 
 
SAN ZENO AND THE FIEND. 253 
 
 " Look," he exclaimed, laughing, " here is the 
 diavolo in a fine strait — the saint has the best of 
 it. He has kicked him into the Adige — see — see — 
 how he struggles in the waves ; he was always trying 
 to injure the people of Verona, and San Zeno had 
 enough to do to prevent him ; here is a miracle — 
 oh ! do look at this — it is the best fun of all. Do 
 you see the cart drawn by bullocks? — well the 
 demon has jamped from behind a rock, and has, 
 by his horrid grimaces, frightened the beasts, they 
 have run headlong into the river, dragging the man 
 and cart after them ; but here comes the saint — he 
 has got hold of their heads, and is leading them 
 safe to the other side, as if the waves were of stone, 
 and there is the father of evil with his hoofs in the 
 air — oh ! he always gets the worst of it when San 
 Zeno hears how he has been going on !" 
 
 We asked our young friend if he often looked at 
 these bronze pictured histories, and he assured us 
 that they afforded him his greatest amusement. 
 " I am," he said, " never tired of them, and am so 
 glad to see how the old demon gets his faring." 
 
 On asking him if the miracles of St. Zeno, thus 
 represented, were true, he looked a little surprised, 
 and said he knew nothing about that, but thought 
 them very funny ; then, recollecting himself, he 
 added demurely, " Oh, yes, they are true, for they 
 are all painted in the church as well." 
 
 The painting on the walls, however, we found to 
 be very vivid and interesting mosaics, apparently 
 
254 MATILIANA. 
 
 scenes of romance. A damsel's adventures seem 
 there detailed, who stands by while two knights 
 encounter for her sake : her name is written above 
 her head * Matiliana/ Whether there is any mys- 
 tical meaning contained in this I know not, but it 
 has a strange effect in such a place. 
 
 On another part of the walls, King Theodoric, 
 the Dietrich von Bern, of the Helden-Buch, figures 
 in a Roman costume ; he is hunting, and surrounded 
 by his dogs, who are seizing a stag, and our young 
 cicerone pointed out to us his favourite figure of 
 the spiteful demon who is waiting to take possession 
 of the soul of the " ruthless king." 
 
 The circular window which adorns the front of 
 this church, is one of the earliest known, and though 
 less beautiful than many of its kind, is curious from 
 that circumstance; the numerous slender pilasters 
 which adorn the facade of the church, and the long 
 ranges of circular arched windows at the sides are 
 beautiful and peculiar, and give lightness to what 
 might otherwise be a heavy building. 
 
 The statue of San Zeno in his chair is curious, 
 and the enormous porphyry vase called the Coppa 
 di San Zenone, said to have been brought from 
 Syria by the fiend whom the bishop held as his 
 slave, is very fine. There are many antique tombs 
 and sculptures scattered amongst the solemn aisles, 
 and in the magnificent crypt, which is singularly 
 perfect and imposing with its forty exquisite pillars 
 all uninjured. 
 
KING PEPIN. 255 
 
 A cemetery is close beside the church, where 
 there are some very curious remains : amongst long 
 grass and ruins we reached a spot where a flight of 
 stone steps invited to descend into a cold vault con- 
 taining an ancient sarcophagus, said to be the tomb 
 of Pepin, king of Italy. The tomb is filled with 
 water of remarkable coldness, produced by the 
 dripping of the rain through the stone roof: our 
 guide assured jus it had miraculous properties, a 
 belief which is generally entertained. 
 
 The wooden roof of the interior of San Zeno is 
 very fine, and one of similar beauty is seen in the 
 church of San Fermo Maggiore, a beautiful building 
 full of much the same kind of interest, containing 
 the altar and monument of the family of Aligeri, or 
 Alighieri, illustrious through their descendant Dante 
 the Divine. The Torriani have here also a once 
 magnificent tomb. 
 
 As there are forty churches, all possessing some 
 interest, in Verona, it was hopeless to undertake to visit 
 them, and I was obliged to content myself with the 
 few I had seen. The palaces are also too numerous 
 to be readily visited ; we were lodged in one, for the 
 Albergo delle due Torre is the ancient Palazza delF 
 Aquila, belonging in old days to the Scaligeri. 
 
 The apartments are extremely grand, and the 
 door - ways finely carved marble in patterns, 
 wreathed and billeted. I was busy examining 
 that which led to the suite we occupied, which 
 opened from an open b'alcony, surrounding a large 
 
256 INTRUSION REPROVED. 
 
 inner court, when my curiosity attracted the notice 
 of a neiglibour, wliose door, being equally orna- 
 mented, I was regarding, unconscious that he was 
 near. 
 
 Suddenly the figure of a rotund little man in a 
 flowered dressing gown and slippers, appeared 
 advancing from the interior ; he accosted me in 
 very bad French, and begged to inform me that he 
 was the occupant of those apartments which he 
 intimated no stranger had a right to approach. I 
 apologized for having ventured to gaze at his carved 
 portal, explaining that its beauty had attracted me, 
 but he appeared quite unsatisfied, as he rejoined, 
 " Oh, this house is full of such — " and went away 
 no doubt in alarm, lest his retirement should be 
 invaded by an inquisitive foreigner, on whom he 
 closed his door unceremoniously. As he did not 
 speak the sweet language of Italy, and his accent 
 was by no means pure Gallic, I concluded my 
 tenacious neighbour was an Austrian. 
 
 The hotel of the due Torre is, besides being in- 
 teresting in an historical point of view, an excellent 
 inn, where everything is most comfortably served, 
 and where, as is universal in the North of Italy, 
 great civility is met with. A beautiful bouquet of 
 flowers was placed upon our breakfast table, which 
 one might fancy gathered in the gardens of the 
 Capelletti, and extreme attention was shewn to our 
 slightest desire. 
 
 The moonlight was most brilliant during my stay 
 
MOONLIGHT AT VERONA — NAMES. 257 
 
 in this interesting town, but unfortunately my room 
 looked only into a narrow street, and I could see no 
 waving " fruit tree tops tipped with its silver light," 
 which only shone on roofs and balconies. 
 
 By the light of day I was entertained reading 
 the names of my opposite neighbours which were 
 sounding and looked grand as they shone in large 
 letters on a bright blue ground, informing the world 
 that the respective shops were kept by Bartolomeo 
 Divino, Guiseppe Paradiso, and Antonio Tasso. 
 
 The immediate environs of Verona are by no means 
 attractive, and we were much disappointed in an 
 evening drive to find no object of interest, and the 
 country barren and ugly : trees are planted on the 
 public walks, without the gates, but apparently will 
 not grow, for they are strangely meagre and stunted, 
 and offer neither beauty nor shade. The neigh- 
 bourhood, at a little distance, however, affords many 
 spots of interest, and amongst them is Gargagnano, 
 where Dante is said to have composed his Purgatorio. 
 Pindemonti is the poet of Verona and one of those 
 the most reflective and pathetic, his verses are con- 
 sidered as extremely like Gray's, and indeed there 
 is something quite English in his feeling: the 
 following lines remind one of the thought in the 
 celebrated elegy : 
 
 Forse per questi ameiii colli un giorno 
 Volgera qualque amico spirto il passo, 
 E chiedendo di me, del mio soggiorno 
 Sol gli fia mostro senza nome un sasso 
 S 
 
258 PINDEMONTI. 
 
 -Sotto queir elce, a cm sovente or torno 
 Per dar ristoro al fianco errante e lasso. 
 Or pensoso ed immobile qual pietra, 
 Ed or voci Febee vibrando all* etra. 
 
 Pindemonti has breathed the praises of liis native 
 town, delightful Verona, both in prose and verse : 
 and thus apostrophises the Adige, whose beauties 
 he describes as enjoying the more when wandering 
 on its banks amongst scenes which were new to 
 him : he enters fully into the pleasures of exploring 
 in this charming passage : 
 
 "Etu, o bellissimo Adige, credi tu che le onde tue chiare, 
 bench^ profonde profonde maestose, benclie veloci, ed amabili, 
 bencb^ prepotenti, credi che mi piacerebber tanto se le sinuose tue 
 rive, celandomi per qualche tempo quegli oggetti, cui vado incontro, 
 non eccitasser la mia curiositk ed io non sentissi prima del piacere 
 d' una nuova scena il piacer forse maggiore dell' aspettarla?'* 
 
 The drive is delightful from Verona to Vicenza, 
 particularly from Montebello, between avenues of 
 flourishing young acacias, and other light foliage, 
 with corn-fields on each side, yellow and ripening, 
 amidst which large trees throw their broad shade 
 and support, from one to the other, double and 
 triple festoons of the richest vines. The morning 
 of our departure from Verona was beautiful, and the 
 golden beams of the early sun darted brilliantly 
 through the dewy green leaves, shining and quiver- 
 ing all round, huge melons lay basking in their 
 fields, Indian corn rustled in the refreshing breeze, 
 and the limes and acacias made the air all perfume. 
 
VICENZA. 259 
 
 We met carts Ml of gay laughing peasants, driving 
 merrily along : it was the fete of St. Louis de Gonzaga 
 and a holiday, which all seemed prepared to enjoy. 
 
 A great many carriages passed of a form quite 
 new to me, except in pictures of Italian scenery near 
 Naples : the body of the carriage is so small, it seems 
 hardly large enough for the single occupant : behind 
 hinx stands in a most uneasy and apparently dan- 
 gerous position a second cavalier : the enormous 
 wheels almost conceal the whole apparatus, and the 
 horse is placed at an incredible distance from the 
 fragile car. 
 
 The bullocks in the waggons are decorated with 
 a finely adorned screen-shaped ornament, and the 
 horses in the laden carts pace proudly along, their 
 bodies decorated with nets and fringe, and their 
 heads with elegant spires, tasselled and wrought 
 with sculptured knobs and roses. 
 
 The shrill voices of innumerable grasshoppers in 
 the fields and the warbling of birds in the hedges 
 made the air vocal as we passed onwards, and our 
 cheerful drive w^as terminated at the lively and new- 
 looking town of Vicenza, where we arrived about 
 the middle of the day. By this time the sun's 
 power was sensibly increased, and as it shone down 
 on the palaces of Vicenza the heat was excessive: 
 nevertheless we braved it ^ la mode Anglaise, 
 unwilling to lose the sight of a few of the attractions 
 of this pretty town which we only made a tempo- 
 rary resting place on our road to Padua. 
 
260 VICENZA. 
 
 The heavy stone arcades were hung with large 
 olds of various coloured draperies next the street, 
 and awnings shaded every house which was not 
 placed beneath arches ; but the exclusion of the sun 
 caused the air to be shut out also, and the damp heat 
 beneath the dark avenues newly sprinkled profusely 
 with water was scarcely to be endured. The floor- 
 ing of boards,^wet and slippery, and the unpleasing 
 odours from the houses did not invite us to linger 
 beneath the shade, and we hurried along as fast as 
 OUT laquais de place would permit: but, unfortunately, 
 he was a solemn and sedate character,- to whom 
 haste and bustle were distasteful, and nothing could 
 induce him to pay any attention to our impatient 
 gestures : he kept the even tenor of his way in 
 spite of us, and continued to dole forth his infor- 
 ination in accents of the most provoking slowness, 
 and so distinctly that he seemed willing to afford us 
 an opportunity of taking a lesson in pure Italian on 
 our tedious way. 
 
 He informed us that about fifty noble families 
 lived in the town and kept up considerable state: 
 we passed their beautiful palaces with fine enclosed 
 gardens, over the parapet walls of which we saw the 
 broad leaves of magnificent shrubs mixed with 
 cherry trees, full of fruit, lemons and oranges : all 
 looking rich and flourishing. Ranges of fine 
 houses built after the designs of Palladio are every- 
 where seen, and splendid squares adorned with 
 magnificent buildings are in the same refined taste. 
 
PALLADIO. 261 
 
 The eye is so much accustomed, in all new edifices 
 of any consequence, both in London and Paris, and 
 every town, in fact, on the continent, to the forms 
 of Palladian architecture, that one might pass 
 through the streets of Vicenza without noticing the 
 buildings, particularly, except to give them general 
 admiration, until it is recollected that most of these 
 are designed by the great master himself, who was 
 " native here and to the manner born." 
 
 Palladio's own house is shewn and numerous 
 palaces built by him, all splendid of their kind. 
 He and Vicenzio Scamozzi, also a native, divide the 
 city between them. 
 
 The most striking part is the Piazza dei Signori, 
 where stand two fine columns, such as the Venetians 
 loved to erect in all cities under their sway ; and 
 here is a high slender campanile, the upper part 
 of which I had been remarking from the inn window, 
 as it peered over the intervening roofs of numerous 
 houses, boldly crowning the opposite domicile of 
 Giuseppe Spigolon (Sarto) whose industry I had an 
 opportunity of observing as he drank his 'aqua 
 fresca' at his door, and sang merrily at his work. 
 
 The Palazzo della Ragione interested me ex- 
 tremely : the exterior is in the Palladian fashion, and 
 has consequently, though very beautiful, no air of 
 antiquity, but the original building is Gothic of very 
 ancient date, and the interior is extremely curious. 
 This was the first of its kind I had seen and it im- 
 pressed me accordingly. Nothing can be more ugly 
 
 I 
 
262 TEATRO OLIMPICO. 
 
 and strange than the enormous leaden roof which 
 surniounts the fine loggie, the arches, the statues, 
 the pillars and the majestic flights of steps all raised 
 hy the genius of Palladio and his finest work, but 
 the hall within is of amazing size and just propor- 
 tions, and is extremely imposing ; at present it ap- 
 pears unused except by functionaries who start for- 
 ward as you enter to demand a fee from foreigners, 
 although the place is open to all comers. 
 
 Our guide led us to the celebrated Teatro Olim- 
 pico for whose singular beauties I was by no means 
 prepared, nor should I probably have become ac- 
 quainted with them had I been aware of the puri- 
 tanical horror entertained by one of my companions 
 for a theatre of any kind. We had entered the 
 fatal precincts before she became conscious that she 
 was really in a spot dedicated to the perpetration of 
 dramatic performances, and unable to controul my 
 curious examination of what to me appeared inter- 
 esting, she had no resource but to sit mute on one 
 of the elevated benches in a state of uneasy forced 
 patience, till I had looked my last at the beautiful 
 proportions of this graceful building which gives so 
 complete an idea of the Grecian theatre. 
 
 The fixed scene representing streets of carved 
 wood in perspective, although censured by severe 
 critics, appeared to me good : there are twelve rows 
 of seats rising above each other, as at the amphithe- 
 atre at Verona, which was just fresh in my memory, 
 and every part struck me as gracefully classical. 
 
TRISSINO. 263 
 
 The effect when the house is filled and ^ome drama 
 of the ancient poets is represented must be singularl}?^ 
 striking. One could readily imagine the delight 
 with which an Italian audience would have listened, 
 at the time of the first erection of this building, to 
 the tender scenes of Trissino*s Sofonisba, then still 
 popular, although a century had fled since its author 
 enjoyed such distinguished fame, not only in his 
 native city of Vicenza but throughout Italy. 
 
 Trissino is the pride of Vicenza, as its poet, as 
 Palladio and Scamozzi are its architects. 
 
 His epic poem of ' Italia liberata failed to excite 
 the applause which such an undertaking was expected 
 to elicit, but his * Sofonisba' has obtained him the 
 fame he sought. He was born in the golden age of 
 Italy's poets, when more than thirty, all masters of 
 their art, claimed attention and admiration, and 
 amongst them, his name held a distinguished place : 
 born in 1478 he lived till the age of seventy-two, 
 honoured and esteemed by all the admirers of genius 
 in that age of talent. 
 
 He was nobly born and was greatly in favour 
 with Leo the Xth, who sent him ambassador to the 
 Emperor Maximilian : under Clement VII. he was 
 charged with embassies to Charles V., and to the 
 Republic of Venice. His country-house at Criccolf 
 near Vicenza, erected under his own auspices and 
 those of Palladio, still attest his refined taste, and 
 his palace in the town is equally splendid. 
 
 The * Sofonisba' is valuable as being the first re- 
 
264 COSTUME AT VICENZA. 
 
 gular tragedy since the revival of letters, and one of 
 the last founded on the true principles of the Grecian 
 drama : and though little pleasing to modern taste 
 is not without pathos and interest. 
 
 The death of Sofonisba and her interview with 
 her sister to whom she leaves her son is very affecting. 
 
 Trissino also wrote a comedy after the ancient 
 model, called / Simillhni on the favourite subject of 
 the Twins. 
 
 The people of Vicenza struck me as far from 
 good looking, though the embroidered white veils 
 of the young women, or their bare heads and fine 
 hair have a good effect at a distance ; to the older 
 females, however, the fashion of not wearing caps 
 is very unbecoming — grey, thin and dirty hair, 
 straggling over the sunburnt cheeks, is by no 
 means agreeable, nor are the black beaver hats, 
 worn by some, more graceful, though set off by 
 large heavy copper-coloured ear-rings. The men 
 look thin and gaunt, and many of the women 
 fat and unwieldy, and almost all are slovenly 
 and dirty amongst the lower classes ; the streets 
 are not so well paved nor so clean as at Verona, 
 and though, beneath the dim arcades, there 
 was a profusion of fruit and flowers, such as I 
 had rarely seen, taken in general, the town had 
 by no means an attractive aspect. 
 
 The tyrant Ezzolino, a name at which all hearers 
 trembled, and whose frightful reign was the scourge 
 of this part of Italy, is said to have met his death 
 
 1 
 
 I 
 
EZZOLINO. 265 
 
 at Vicenza. Tradition relates that two determined 
 knights, resolved to brave all danger, in order to 
 deliver their country from a brutal chief, whose 
 ravages were worse than serpent or dragon could 
 inflict, attacked him in his very den, and, having 
 destroyed him, threw his body out of his palace 
 windows to the delighted but terrified populace. 
 An annual pageant used to commemorate this 
 event, and is,' I believe, even now continued, 
 although the truth of the story is by no means 
 ascertained. 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 PADUA. 
 
 "For the great desire I had 
 To see fair Padua, nursery of arts, 
 I am arrived from fruitful Lombardy, 
 The pleasant garden of great Italy." 
 
 Taming of the Shrew. 
 
 PADUA— THE STREETS OF PADUA — THE CHURCH—NIGHT AT PADUA 
 — CLOCKS AND BELLS— PAPER MILLS — SAN ANTONIO DI 
 PADUA — THE PROMENADE SERVICE — HISTORY OF THE SAINT — 
 THE FISHES — SAN GUISTINA — THE PROTO DEL VALLE — 
 PALAZZO DELLE RAGIONE — TROJAN HORSE — STONE OF SHAME 
 CELLINI — CAFi PEDROCCHl. 
 
 The flat road to Padua would be uninteresting 
 but for the evidence of riches and comfort it ex- 
 hibits : handsome villas in luxuriant gardens are 
 seen on each side of the road the whole distance 
 from Vicenza, and an almost uninterrupted line 
 of festooned vines hangs from bough to bough, 
 as if for the triumphal entry of a conqueror ; the 
 beauty of this natural drapery is very great, and 
 prevents any country from appearing monotonous. 
 
 We reached Padua late in the evening of a fine 
 bright day, and I think, strange as many old 
 
PADUA. 267 
 
 French towns have appeared to me in the course of 
 my wanderings, I was scarcely ever so much 
 struck as by the first appearance of this learned, 
 necromantic city, where the Wizard Michael Scott 
 was said to have 
 
 " Learnt the art that none may name.'* 
 Dark, gloomy, stony, narrow, and rugged appeared 
 the long streets through which our three wild horses 
 were urged at full speed by our apparently as wild 
 postillion who, far too tranquil on the road, had 
 suddenly increased his animation as the towers of 
 Padua rose to view. In all the dignity of a splen- 
 didly embroidered jacket, large cockade, and shin- 
 ing horn slung across his shoulders, did he impetu- 
 ously advance through all impediments as if the 
 spirit of Petrucio inspired him, and he was hasten- 
 to some " mad wedding." 
 
 The heavy uninterrupted stone arcades project so 
 far and leave so little space, that we seemed jammed 
 in between them : at every dingy portal stood ragged, 
 squalid, dirty groups gazing out at our speed : in 
 the narrowest places we met enormous waggons 
 laden with merchandise, drawn by six or eight horses 
 covered with fringes and ornaments, and immediately 
 after, handsome carriages, well appointed, full of gay 
 ladies evidently going to take their evening prome- 
 nade : nothing could be so out of character as the 
 latter, with the rough, dingy, rugged aspect of every 
 surrounding object. For nearly half an hour did 
 we continue our wild way, by the side of apparentlv 
 
268 SAN ANTONIO OF PADUA. 
 
 interminable arcades, and considering the interrup- 
 tions we met with, it appeared a miracle worthy of St, 
 Anthony himself, that could bring us to some safi 
 harbour. Judging from the general appearance oj 
 the town, we trembled that whenever a sudde^ 
 termination was put to our career, it would be to de-f 
 posite us at some close dirty inn, where we could not 
 choose but be content with any accommodation offered^ 
 
 On went our steeds, dashing, plunging and snorting, 
 still smacked the haughty postillion's whip, and stilly 
 no hostelry appeared : at length we rounded an omi- 
 nous corner, and a large space was before us, oc- 
 cupying a considerable portion of which stood a, 
 building, so extraordinary, so amazing, that I gaze(^ 
 upon it in breathless wonder, while nearly opposite 
 to its giant pile we stopped at the hotel of the Aquila 
 d'Oro. 
 
 The apartments we secured during our stay here, 
 faced the object of my admiration, and I had ample 
 time to gaze my fill at the multiplied cupolas of the 
 gigantic church of San Antonio of Padua, one of 
 the most remarkable edifices I had ever beheld : a 
 huge mass of pumpkin-shaped domes crowded to- 
 gether and relieved by high slender minarets, and 
 turrets and parapets all covered with mouldings and 
 carvings in red brick, wondrous and bewildering to 
 behold. 
 
 When I looked out at the giant-like fabric, our 
 opposite neighbour, I was prepared for something on 
 a large scale at the hotel where we were received, but 
 
THE CHURCH. 269 
 
 scarcely for the stupendous dimensions of the suite 
 assigned to our use. The saloon was a gallery paved 
 with stucco, not less than thirty feet long, and twelve 
 wide : the walls were hung with antique pictures 
 taken from churches, some with gold back grounds 
 representing dark and frowning saints, antique 
 glass and china, models and medals crowded the 
 tables placed against these walls : numerous dark 
 heavy doors opened into the apartment and a wide 
 corridor terminated it at one end, while the other was 
 filled by a monstrous window and balcony affording 
 a full view of the church of San Antonio, the 
 deep hollow startling sound of whose solemn bell was 
 distinctly heard from thence every quarter of an hour 
 without fail : a fact which promised but little repose 
 for the night, considering that it is usual with all 
 the clocks in this part of the world to repeat their 
 noisy information of the hour twice over. 
 
 Having retired to my own gigantic chamber, which 
 commanded the same view, I was well content for 
 some time to observe the effect of a bright moonlight 
 on the domes and pinnacles of the church, but the 
 further night advanced the less evidence of desiring 
 repose was exhibited by the turbulent inhabitants of 
 this caverned desert of a town. If Shakespeare had 
 ever been to Padua I should not have wondered at his 
 placing the scene of Petrucio's riotous reform here, 
 but as he probably had not, his doing so must be 
 looked upon as another of the many proofs of his 
 astonishing intuitive knowledge of things. 
 
270 
 
 NIGHT AT PADUA. 
 
 Never was niglit so friglited from her propriety 
 and made hideous as in tlie square of St. Antliony, 
 where every description of noise appeared to me to 
 be congregated to disturb peace. I had shut and 
 carefully fastened my windows in despair, althougl 
 the night was oppressively hot, in order that I mighi 
 not be distracted altogether by the musical per- 
 formances of the citizens of the learned city, but it 
 was in vain, no stone walls could keep out the din, 
 and I sat, certainly not patiently, waiting until for 
 very weariness the cracked fiddles should give over 
 playing polkas, the improvised choruses, all inde-, 
 pendent of each other, should cease, and the indi^l 
 vidual shrieking should sink into silence. One man; 
 had placed himself at a corner of the square, and 
 seemed emulating the howling of a disturbed do^ 
 who detested the moonlight ; another responded at 
 the other corner in a roar which had not even words as 
 accompaniment and excuse, and shrieking boys and 
 females seemed resolved so try which could wake 
 the echoes furthest. 
 
 Where, I thought, as hopeless of rest I sat in my, 
 huge chamber twenty feet long and nearly as broad, 
 — where is the melody of Italy I have heard so 
 vaunted ! — we are approaching Venice, where though 
 " Tasso's echoes are no more," music must still cling 
 to the walls of her palaces, and float upon her waters 
 • — yet no discord that the mind of man could ima- 
 gine equals the charivari without ! 
 
 "I have no recollection of the time," 
 
 \ 
 
PAPER MILLS. 271 
 
 when all this hubbub ended, or how I continued to 
 sleep that night and several others at Padua, in spite 
 of the great bell of San Antonio. 
 
 Padua is said to be the fatherland of striking 
 clocks as it is of paper mills, and probably possesses a 
 charter for being noisy, with which a stranger has 
 no right to find fault : afterwards, in the towns of 
 the Tyrol, I found the nocturnal noise of Padua 
 equalled and the musical powers of the natives of the 
 same kind. 
 
 It was in Padua that the first paper mills intro- 
 duced into Europe, were established. At the end 
 of the thirteenth century Alfonzo the Tenth, King of 
 Castile brought them into Spain, from whence the 
 invention passed to Italy, and took effect at Trevisa 
 and Padua. This important discovery, so fraught 
 with consequences to learning, came from the East, 
 where the Arabian Yussuf Amrou, who had ob- 
 served it in China, brought it to Mecca his native 
 city, in the 88th year of the Hejra a.d. 706. From 
 Arabia it spread to Spain, and flourished chiefly in 
 Valencia, where the town of Sativa, now San Filip- 
 po, was renowned in the 12th century for its beau- 
 tiful manufactories of paper. The Spaniards used 
 flax, which was abundant with them, instead of cot- 
 ton which was much scarcer and dearer. 
 
 Early on the following day after our arrival at 
 Padua I hastened to the piazza opposite, in order to 
 become more nearly acquainted with San Antonio 
 and its seven domes, and all its eastern minarets 
 
 k 
 
272 C.ATTO MEl.ATO. 
 
 and Gothic arclio?. An equestrian statue keeps 
 guard in the front of the cliurch, and seems placed 
 to remind the beholder of the times when all the 
 cities of Italy were kept by the strong hand. This 
 spirited statue in bronze represents Erasmodi Narni, 
 surnamed Gatto Melato, a famous captain of his 
 time. 
 
 The interior of the church is very striking, not 
 altogether from its architectural beauties, although 
 they are worthy of admiration, but from the profu-   
 sion of riches and ornaments in the chapels and 
 shrines : gold silver and marble, are illumined 
 by hundreds of candles, and the chapel of il Santo is 
 one blaze of splendour, golden lamps, silver cande- 
 labra and sculptured and variegated marble, enough 
 to dazzle the eye. That of Santa Felice is equally 
 solemn and grand, with yellow marble pillars, and 
 the altar covered with scales of the same material 
 of every hue. 
 
 The art of Donatello shines forth in the bronzes, 
 and the marble groups with infinite lustre, and the 
 frescoes and pictures everywhere gleaming on the 
 lofty walls have an effect extremely rich. There 
 is a fine and very powerful organ, and, as we re- 
 mained during the service, we had an opportunity 
 of judging of its power which appeared to me supe- 
 rior to its sweetness, as might also be said of the 
 voices of the choristers, which made the vaults of 
 the church re-echo to their sound. I never saw 
 anything so singular as the manner of conducting 
 
 ^ 
 
SAN ANTONIO DI PADUA. 273 
 
 the service in San Antonio. Not for a sino^le mo- 
 ment did any one in the church, except ourselves, 
 appear to be quiet : the effect was more like a pro- 
 menade concert than a relio:ious ceremony. 
 
 Several priests continued, without pause, to walk 
 briskly round and round the aisles and choir, bear- 
 ing some precious casket, covered with embroidered 
 silk, and preceded by a boy in white robes, carrying 
 a book, which did not, however, seem to be used: 
 each of these priests walked alone, and was suc- 
 ceeded, at an interval, by the next, and each had a 
 train behind him of fishermen and peasants, male 
 and female, dirty, ragged, and unseemly in aspect. 
 No one appeared to be uttering prayers, either priest 
 or people, and all hurried along at a rapid pace. 
 Women in slovenly gowns and coarse shoes, or a 
 sort of sabots without heels, with dirty white stock- 
 ings, their heads covered with a flabby yellow white 
 veil, promenaded with the utmost indifference, some 
 holding the arms of their husbands or friends, some 
 their children by the hand, the little girls occa- 
 sionally looking pretty in their white veils. A few 
 decently dressed citizens and their wives in em- 
 broidered clean veils, and silk dresses, tripped along, 
 and occasionally a lady and gentleman dressed with 
 great assumption of Viennese fashion swept past : 
 none kept their seats long, and all bowed and crossed 
 themselves as they passed the shrine of San Anto- 
 nio, but I could not perceive that they were oc- 
 
 T 
 
274 
 
 ST. ANTONIO. 
 
 cupied in prayer. Some dirty Franciscans in 
 coarse brown dresses, lounged after the rest, and 
 several large dogs roamed about amongst the dense 
 crowd, much to my surprise ; but I understand these 
 animals are of a race privileged to remain in the 
 sanctuary. All the time of this parading the organ 
 played vehementl}^ and the singers exerted them- 
 selves to the utmost, and when the priest addressed 
 the congregation from the pulpit, there was no ces-. 
 sation in the promenade nor in the perambulating ol 
 the priests. 
 
 I could not understand the meaning of all this, 
 for though I had heard that at Padua, the priests j 
 are accustomed to address the people in different 
 parts of the church, I was not prepared for this' 
 continuous roaming of every person within the 
 walls. St. Anthony is said by tradition to have 
 compelled the Evil One to follow him for ever, in 
 the form of a pig, but whether this movement hasl 
 any reference to the legend I have not ascertained. 
 
 The following is a brief history of the saint : St.j 
 Anthony was a Portuguese by birth, and born in 
 1195; his original name was Ferdinand, but }ie\ 
 adopted that of Saint Anthony who is called the. 
 Great, and was considered the patriarch of the monks 
 near Coimbra. 
 
 He attached himself to St. Francois d'Assise, 
 and went to Italy to be near him. Saint Francis 
 sent him to Vercelli to study theology, and he soon 
 
ST. ANTONIO AND EZZOLINO. 275 
 
 distinguished himself by his zeal, becoming cele- 
 brated at Bologna, Toulouse, Montpelier, Limoges 
 and Padua. 
 
 As a missionary preacher he was greatly followed, 
 his eloquence being remarkable, his person attrac- 
 tive, his voice peculiarly melodious, and his manner 
 captivating ; " his words," says the historian of his 
 life, " were so many darts that pierced the hearts of 
 his hearers." He was called by Pope Gregory III. 
 who heard him preach at Rome, the Ark of the 
 Convent, or Rich Spiritual Treasure, and as a proof 
 of the effect of his exhortations, it is related of him 
 that he visited the terrible Ezzolino himself at Ve- 
 rona, and boldly entered his presence, careless of all 
 the dangers to which he exposed himself. 
 
 He found Verona a scene of alarm and desolation ; 
 the tyrant had scattered fear and horror around, and 
 when he desired to be introduced to the palace 
 every one fled in alarm at the rash request. He 
 however persisted in approaching him as he sat on 
 a throne surrounded by a troop of armed wretches, 
 ready at his slightest sign to execute his sanguinary 
 commands. 
 
 St. Anthony, nothing dismayed, walked up to 
 the frowning chief and bade him listen to his words 
 — bade him repent of his crimes, while there was yet 
 time before the vengeance of offended Heaven should 
 overtake him. 
 
 Ezzolino struck with astonishment remained mo- 
 tionless, while the saint set forth in glaring colours, 
 
 T 2 
 
276 ST. ANTONIO. 
 
 the wickedness and cruelty of his actions, and when 
 he had ended, all present expected that the fatal sig- 
 nal would he given for the bold preacher to be cut 
 to pieces before their eyes. Instead of which the 
 tyrant, pale and trembling, descended from his 
 throne and unfastening the girdle from his waist put 
 it round his neck as a halter, cast himself at the 
 feet of the saint, and with cries and tears besought 
 his intercession with God for pardon. 
 
 St. Anthony raised him up and bade him hope, 
 enjoining him certain penance and mortifications, 
 which, for a time^ the penitent attended to, pausing 
 in his mad career of crime. He sent a costly present 
 to the saint, who rejected it, telling him that most 
 acceptable to God would be his restoring to the poor 
 what he had unjustly taken from them. 
 
 As long as the saint lived Ezzolino's conduct was 
 less monstrous, but, at his death, all his old passion 
 for slaughter revived, and he gave way to it with 
 unrestrained licence. 
 
 The mode of his death is variously related ; by 
 some he is said to have been assassinated, but others 
 recount that being taken prisoner by the confederate 
 princes of Lombardy, he died distracted in a prison 
 in 1259. 
 
 From his cell in Padua, meantime, St. Anthony 
 instructed the world, although he had much to suf- 
 fer from persecution, and the ill-conduct of Elias, 
 the successor of St. Francis, a luxurious monk, 
 whose excesses he opposed. 
 
ST. ANTONIO AND THE FISHES. 277 
 
 A little before his death St. Anthony had retired 
 to a place without the town of Padua, called Cam- 
 pietro, and feeling his end approaching, he desired 
 to return to his convent. He was therefore taken 
 back towards the town, but was too ill to proceed 
 further than the suburbs, where the director of th« 
 nuns of Arcela received him. There he died, on the 
 13th June, 1231, aged only thirty-six. 
 
 At the first news of his death there was a panic 
 in the city of Padua, and all the inhabitants greeted 
 each other with the sad words — The Saint is dead ! 
 
 Then began the miracles at his tomb, and the rest 
 had better be silence. 
 
 His tongue was kept as a sacred relic in the 
 church built in his honour, that being the only part 
 of his body remaining entire, w-hen, two years after 
 his death, the domes and minarets of the holy build- 
 ing rose, and all that was mortal of him was laid in 
 the magnificent tomb, over which St. Bonaventure 
 wept and prayed, exclaiming, as he kissed the relic, 
 
 *' Oh blessed tongue, that didst always praise God, 
 and hast been the cause that an infinite number 
 learned to praise him : now it appears how precious 
 thou art held by him who framed thee, since thou art 
 
 (employed in so excellent and high a function." 
 ^ The famous picture of the saint preaching to the 
 llhes is extremely ill-painted, and so excessively 
 absurd that it seems impossible that rational beings 
 could ever look on it with any other feeling than 
 contempt. We observed, however, several fisher- 
 
278 PRATO DEL VALLE. 
 
 men contemplating witli much awe, the groups of 
 attentive fishes all with their heads out of the water 
 and their mouths open, eagerly swallowing the doc- 
 trines of the saint. 
 
 The church of San Guistina presents rather a 
 grand facade, and the lions at the entrance are simi- 
 lar to those at the churches of Verona, and common 
 to most places of worship in this part of Italy. The 
 principal part of the building is comparatively mo- 
 dern, and not very interesting, the marble altars 
 are, however, extremely fine, and the flooring has 
 a beautiful and singular effect, being composed of 
 red, white and black marble, arranged so as to ap- 
 pear in long cubes, the deception of which, as you 
 walk along, is very curious. The great space and 
 the loftiness of the roofs make it very impressive. 
 
 San Guistina stands at the end of a large square, 
 the Prato del Valle, as an enclosed space in the 
 centre is called ; it is quite unique in its kind, and 
 struck me as handsome and ornamental. 
 
 The Prato has a moat round it of clear water, 
 and pretty flying bridges lead into its groves which 
 are crowded with statues, representing the great per- 
 sonages who have made Padua illustrious in the 
 course of many ages. These figures, gleaming 
 through the bright foliage, have a very pleasing 
 effect, and the idea of this homage to genius is cer- 
 tainly well worthy of imitation : some of the statues 
 are well executed, all have merit and the general 
 effect is good. This is the fashionable promenade 
 
I 
 
 PALAZZO DELLE RAGIONE. 279 
 
 of the Paduans on Sundays and holidays, when the 
 Prato presents a remarkable and peculiarly animated 
 coup (Toeil such as no other town that I have seen 
 affords. 
 
 The Palazzo delle Ragione is in the same style 
 as that which had so much attracted me at Vicenza, 
 but is infinitely finer. The enormous roof has the 
 same clumsy effect, and the open arches, loggie and 
 ornaments of the exterior are as striking, but the 
 interior is far more so, being of larger dimensions, 
 and more curious in its contents. The hall is two 
 hundred and forty feet long, eighty broad, and 
 eighty high, and is said to be the largest, unsup- 
 ported by pillars, in the world. 
 
 A great magician, according to popular belief, 
 erected the roof after designs from some eastern 
 palace, another constructed the remainder, and a 
 greater still, the necromancer Giotto, adorned the 
 building with paintings which still glow on the 
 walls with gold and azure. A mysterious light 
 enters this magnificent hall from apertures in 
 the ceiling, and the rays of the sun are so directed 
 as to fall at the proper time on the painted signs 
 of the Zodiac which are seen gleaming on the pan- 
 nels. 
 
 The busts of illustrious Paduans, from Livy their 
 early, to Belzoni their later boast, adorn this singu- 
 lar gallery, some within some without the building : 
 strange carvings appear over the doorways full of 
 historical information. Across the floor, passing 
 
280 STONIC OF SHAMR. 
 
 from a golden aperture in tlie roof, a line of meridian 
 ligl»t throws its bright streak. A block of black 
 granite holds a conspicuous station at one end oi" 
 the chamber, which I imagined to have been one of 
 the relics presented by Belzoni to his native town, 
 but which I found was the * stone of shame,' used for 
 the exposure of debtors, a sort of Queen's Bench to 
 clear away debts, not uncommon in this part of Italy, 
 and seen in many of the towns. 
 
 Occupying an iramenpe space in the hall, stands 
 a colossal model of a very clumsy horse, about which 
 I had some difficulty in obtaining information. At 
 length the custode, a remarkably lazy individual, 
 condescended to mention that this extraordinary 
 apparition was the Trojan horse : but to all inquiry 
 of why it was placed there, for what purpose exe- 
 cuted, who was the artist, or what was its destina- 
 tion, his only answer was, " io non so niente," and 
 1 was left to my ignorance and its effect, wonder. 
 
 I was amused, as well as surprised, in the streets 
 of Padua, not at the beauties they exhibited, but 
 at the singular gloom and loneliness of the continued 
 arcades. I lost my way several times, owing to 
 the extreme similarity they possess, and it seemed 
 to nie that I was always going round and round in 
 a circle of mazes, and gaining little ground, in spite; 
 of the distance traversed. There must certainly be 
 something necromantic in this extraordinary old 
 city, which seems a fitting abode for exorcisers of 
 spirits, and all who hold communion with other 
 
1^' 
 
 CELLINI. 281 
 
 worlds, and many such are said to have had their 
 abode in Padua. 
 
 As I hurried along the close arcades I canne sud- 
 denly to an opening, and observed a strange block 
 of sculptured stone, standing against a wall. On 
 examining it attentively, I found it to be an ancient 
 Roman tomb, under a canopy. This, I was in- 
 formed, is held in great veneration at Padua, as the 
 tomb of Antenor, the supposed founder of the city. 
 It is a curious relic to stumble on at the corner of 
 a street, but nothing in Padua is common-place, or 
 like any other spot. 
 
 When that eccentric genius Cellini, had resolved 
 to accept the offer of Francis I., to visit Paris and 
 execute some of his beautiful works for him, he 
 passed through Padua, where he was received with 
 high honour by Pietro Bembo, who was not at that 
 time made cardinal. The account given by the 
 artist of his stay is singularly characteristic: — 
 
 " Signer Pietro Bembo said, ' I am resolved that Benvenuto 
 shall stay here, with all his company, if they were a hundred in 
 number.' Thus I stayed to enjoy the conversation of that vir- 
 tuous (!) person. He had caused an apartment to be prepared 
 for me which would have been too magnificent even for a cardinal, 
 and insisted upon my sitting always next him at table : he then 
 intimated to me, in the most modest terms he could think of, that 
 it would be highly agreeable to him if I were to take his likeness : 
 there was, luckily for me, nothing that I desired more ; so, 
 having put some pieces of the whitest alabaster into a box, I 
 began the work, applying, the first day, two hours without 
 ceasing. I made so fine a sketch of the head, that my illustrious 
 friend was astonished at it; for, though he was a person of 
 
282 
 
 CELLINI. 
 
 immense literature, and had an uncommon genius for poetry, he 
 had not the least kno^^ledge of my profession, for which reason 
 he thought that I had finished the figure when I had hardly 
 begun it, inasmuch that I could not make him sensible that I 
 required a considerable time to bring it to perfection. At last, I 
 formed a resolution to take my own time about it, and finish it in 
 the completest manner I could ; but as he wore a short beard, 
 according to the Venetian fashion, I found it a very difficult 
 matter to make a head to please myself. I, however, finished it at 
 last, and it appeared to me to be one of the most complete pieces 
 I had ever produced." 
 
 - When the accomplished artist was departing, his 
 generous friend made him a present of three horses 
 for his journey, having cheated him into accepting 
 them by ordering the man with whom Benvenuto 
 bargained to pretend that in consideration of his 
 great merit, he offered him this accommodation : the 
 scrupulous sculptor saw clearly to whom he owed 
 the gift, and much friendly contention took place 
 between him and his patron, before he could, accord- 
 ing to his own account, be induced to take what he 
 had not yet sufficiently earned by his services. 
 Those were golden days for artists, such as the 
 illustrious of our own times must almost regard as 
 fabulous, when they compare their own treatment 
 to that received by the geniuses of old from Kings, 
 Popes, and Cardinals. 
 
 The cafe Pedrocchi, which Murray names as one 
 of the curiosities of Padua, is a very ambitious 
 building, partly Gothic, and partly Italian ; and, 
 rising as it does amongst the gloomy old arcades, 
 
CAFE PEDROCCHI. 283 
 
 lias a striking eflbct : the principal facade is very 
 handsome, and has the appearance rather of a 
 palace than a cafe. The story told of the master of 
 the mansion's sudden riches, and his paying his 
 workmen in old Venetian gold, implies that in the 
 old ruinous house where he had long lived as a poor 
 man, he must have found a treasure, if indeed he 
 had not studied to more eifect than usual, and dis- 
 covered the Philosopher's stone, which is more 
 likely to come to light in Padua than anywhere 
 else. 
 
 No doubt a Roman palace or temple once 
 occupied the place where this fine cafe- now stands, 
 for, in digging its foundation, numerous marbles 
 were found, which have been carefully preserved 
 and employed to decorate the present edifice. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 '* The native element of Venice, the sea, is now receding from 
 her lagoons, like a faithless friend in the hour of adversity : and 
 she lies down lifeless and mute, a spectre city, insensible of her 
 rapid decay, dead almost to the fondest hopes and to the revenge- 
 ful wrath universally cherished in Italian bosoms, as if the sentence 
 that laid her low were irrevocable, and the hour of Italian re- 
 demption, however soon it may strike, would always be too late 
 for the revival of Venice." — Man'o^^^* Italy. 
 
 *' To Venice," cried I, ** quick, quick, that is exactly my wish." 
 
 Andersen s hnprovisatore. 
 
 BAILEOAD TO VENICE — ADVANTAGES — APPROACH — THE CANALE 
 GRANDE — MOORE THE POET — CALE — SAN MARCO — CHIESA 
 AUREA — HARMONY OF VENICE— PIAZZA SAN MARCO — FIERA 
 FRANCA — THE DOGE's PALACE — VENEZIA LA BELLA — THE 
 TEMPORALE— THE DUCAL FETE— THE IMPROVISED MASQUE. 
 
 Having left the principal part of our baggage at 
 Padua, with the intention of returning there, we 
 set forth at half past six in the morning, by the 
 railroad omnibus to the station called the Ferdinando- 
 Lombardo-Veneta : and there, in a shabby little 
 building, we awaited the train which was to bear 
 us on our way to Venice. 
 
 Along a flat marshy country, possessing no 
 
RAILROAD TO VENICE. 285 
 
 beauty but tijat whicli is derived from an almost 
 uninterrupted line of festooned vines of great rich- 
 ness, and fields of luxuriant produce, for twenty-five 
 miles we pursued our rapid flight, and arrived at 
 the termination of the present work, which, happily 
 as I considered it, stopped short of Venice three 
 miles. 
 
 It would have certainly caused me a pang to 
 have arrived aX Venice in any other way than by 
 sea, which for centuries has been the only mode of 
 reacliing the * Aphrodite of cities :' nevertheless, 
 being safe myself from such a misfortune, I am con- 
 tented to acknowledge that, since the Fates have 
 decreed that the modern improvement and conve- 
 nience of a railroad is to introduce the sea-born 
 goddess to all comers for the future, it is impossible 
 that such a design could be more worthily carried out, 
 or that anything more magnificent, surprising or suit- 
 able to the city could have been projected than the fine 
 range of arches which rise out of the blue waters, and 
 span the sea for three miles in a straight line, throw- 
 ing a chain of stone from one projection of land to the 
 other. So splendid and so singular is the effect it 
 produces, that it strikes me as appearing quite in 
 character with the ancient reputation of Venice, 
 when her wealth could compel the elements to 
 obedience, and it is a comforting reflection that this 
 beautiful aqueduct, for such it seems and indeed will 
 answer the purpose of such, will perhaps restore the 
 ruined commerce of the Queen of the Lagunes, and 
 
286 
 
 APPROACH. 
 
 she may once more raise her diademed liead amongst 
 the cities, lofty and commanding as of yore. 
 
 Probably by the time these reminiscences have 
 passed through the press, this wondrous railroad 
 will be completed, and Venice be made as easy ol 
 access as any other town of the north of Italy.! 
 A continuation is projected to Milan, and, if the' 
 consent of the King of Sardinia can be gained, Turin 
 will be joined to that : how rapid then will be the 
 route from Paris to Lyons, and from Turin to] 
 Venice. If human ingenuity could make the road] 
 across the eternal mountains of snow less perilous,] 
 Venice and Paris could shake hands in a day. 
 
 I could not help looking on the stupendous bridgefj 
 of three miles, which was so rapidly advancing to-j 
 wards completion, with admiration, from the co-j 
 vered boat in which we were seated, as it bounded 
 over the waves : we were the sole passengers toj 
 Venice, except a French gentleman who appeare( 
 connected with the works, and who was merely] 
 going to the city for letters. He had, he informed] 
 us, never seen its wonders, as he only visited it on 
 business, and should remain as short a time as p( 
 sible there, as he considered it a " triste sejour V* 
 
 The sun shone brightly, the breeze was fresh, and] 
 the sea sparkled and danced in the most animated 
 manner. Far off I beheld, but indistinctly, domes] 
 and spires and white gleaming buildings, but no- 
 thing had, as yet, shaped itself to my sight. 
 
 We landed at the custom-house, where a veryi 
 
APPEARANCE OF THE CITY. 287 
 
 >evere and very elaborate examination ot carpet- 
 bags and baskets detained us for a vexatiously long 
 period, and we were then turned adrift to our fate, 
 being pronounced innocent of evil intention towards 
 the sea Cybele. 
 
 We engaged another boat and rowed briskly on- 
 wards towards Venice in good earnest, her buildings 
 rising up, like fabrics in a dream, from the blue ex- 
 panse as we entered her watery streets, shot under the 
 arches of the Rialto, and stopped suddenly at the foot 
 of the flight of steps giving entrance to the Leone 
 Bianco. 
 
 Tome there was nothing melancholy, nothing 
 gloomy about the appearance of the city ; all was 
 brilliant, surprising, bustling and animated ; along 
 the quays workmen and market-people were busily 
 employed ; on the shores were crowding sails and 
 flitting boats, — those strange boats seen only in that 
 region — the form of the palaces was so exquisite, 
 ^ith their ranges of pointed arches and Moorish 
 icery, some of them splendid and fresh looking, 
 11 touched and glowing with the rays of the mid- 
 ly sun, that I forgot all I had heard of the tris- 
 jse, the sadness, the gloom, the ruin of the place, 
 id saw in it only a " glorious city in the sea." 
 We secured a suite of roms, all hanging over 
 le Canal' Grande, and, for an hour, I had nothing 
 do but to stand gazing, in fixed and delighted ad- 
 liration, on the picture of Venice spread out before 
 fe. There was the reality of all my day-dreams ; 
 
288 
 
 (ANAL GRANDE. 
 
 there, heneatli my balcony, rolled and sparkled the 
 deep blue sea, a( !()>> its quivering bosom darted in- 
 numerable gondolas, " black but comely," with 
 shining silver lute-shaped prows, and rowers with 
 gaily-flowered jackets urging them along, as they 
 stand rowing in a manner precisely opposite to 
 the usual method, but in the same way as on- 
 the Italian lakes. There rose, within a few yards 
 of me, the theme of song and romance, the noble 
 arch of the Rialto ; there, glaring in the clear 
 water, lay reflected,, and there glowed in reality, 
 ranges of palaces once covered by the frescoes oC 
 Titian and Tintoretto, their lace- work parapets cut 
 sharply out against the intensely blue sky, and the 
 deep rich shadows of their long arcades brought 
 boldly out by the searching beams of a sun, so golden, 
 and so genial, that it seemed as if no cloud could 
 change its lustre. Numerous white sails gleamed 
 along the shores, and many boats lay moored to the 
 frequent and high pillars striped with the gay co- 
 lours of Austria. Barks which wore not the gondola 
 shape nor hue, but \^ ith bright-coloured awnings and 
 painted sides shot across the canal, and under the 
 peopled bridge, and as far as I could see, all was 
 life and movement on the broad expanse of the 
 Canal' Grande. 
 
 Even in Venice there were far off" interests, which 
 had powej to occupy my thoughts, and until it was 
 ascertained that expected letters were awaiting usji 
 I was quite content to postpone an exploring exper: 
 
MOORE THE POET. 289 
 
 dition on foot which we meditated along the nume- 
 rous allies and passages which are now to be found in 
 the watery city, connected by innumerable flying 
 bridges over the intersecting canals. 
 
 One of the letters I received was full of the details 
 of a friend's meeting in London at a gay party with 
 the poet Moore,andnothingcouldbemore appropriate 
 to the romantic spot I was now in, than the agreeable 
 account I read of his wit, his gaiety, his easy good- 
 humour, and the allusions to his unrivalled verses ; 
 Venice and Moore seemed entirely in unison, as 
 poetry and Byron were naturally the first associations 
 on arriving, and at Venice even the charming rhymes 
 of the minute describer Rogers rises to exalted poetry 
 when he tells of the city to whose palaces the " salt 
 sea-weed clings," in lines as eloquent as if the sad 
 wanderer of the Lido had written them himself. 
 
 Having satisfied myself with home news, I hastened 
 to set forth, and was soon in the midst of the cale 
 of Venice with her water streets appearing every two 
 or three minutes beneath the bridges of steps, which 
 are crossed on the w^ay to the Merceria and the 
 Piazza di San Marco. 
 
 These cale or passages are filled with shops all 
 pretty and gay, though rather small and necessarily 
 confined : painted Indian mats, glass beads, models 
 of gondolas, and every description of trifle, such as 
 the Palais Royal at Paris can furnish, are crowded 
 in the windows and in cases outside. A continued 
 stream of pedestrians poured along, making the 
 
290 THE PIAZZA DI SAN MARCO. 
 
 whole scene as gay as possible, and nothing appeared 
 that could for an instant impress me with the idea of 
 Venice being dull. 
 
 I reached the Piazza di San Marco, and all its 
 glories were at once before me. There stood the 
 proudEastern fabric, destined to efface the memory 
 of Santa Sophia of Constantinople : that gorgeous 
 palace-church, which it took ages to erect, and which 
 all the genius of the Eastern and Western world 
 contributed to decorate. 
 
 The tenth and eleventh centuries raised those 
 wondrous w^alls by slow degrees, created the fine 
 proportions of the aisles and the arches of the nave, 
 and produced those windows of delicate form. Then 
 rose around the monument, like a richly wrought 
 chain, the vaulted gallery of arcades : other ranges 
 of carved work grew above the lower rows, and the 
 work was crowned by shining cupolas, which glitter 
 in the sun of which they seem to form a part. 
 
 San Marco is a temple, where all arts and styles 
 and tastes and beauties seem united in one exquisite 
 whole. Like the enamelled illuminations on the 
 pages of an antique manuscript, all, though gorgeous 
 and glowing, is subdued and kept down into such 
 perfect harmony, that in the general effect, there 
 might seem rather an absence of brilliancy than a 
 redundancy of ornament : yet every part of St. 
 Marco is adorned with the most elaborate care, every 
 nook and corner, every projection and cornice, every 
 capital and pillar, every roof and wall, and not an 
 
SAN MARCO. 291 
 
 outline but is jagged with fretted carving. Gold, 
 azure, crimson, flash in the bright rays that dart 
 down upon them from the pure blue sky, against 
 which each lovely form is sharply traced. 
 
 Arabian, Grecian, Byzantine ideas combine with 
 German thought, and all is mingled like a web of 
 every colour intertwined with gold and silver : St. 
 Marco is like a rich sunset in the Alps, where there 
 is a blending of hues and tints, over which a golden 
 haze is thrown, softening and subduing the glory 
 which would be otherwise too intense. 
 
 It seems as if Venice with all her Doges had ex- 
 isted only for the purpose of creating this immortal 
 fabric, that while it rose their splendours kept pace 
 with it, and when they fell the spell-bound temple 
 sank gradually with them. Alas ! it appears as if 
 ll S^n Marco were indeed sinking into the sea on 
 which it stands, for the mosaic flooring is irregular 
 like its waves, and fearful are the ravages which time 
 and flood have wrought upon its jewelled pavement, 
 every cube of which is as precious, in the eyes of taste, 
 as the pearls in the ear of the fugitive Jessica. 
 
 Well may this unrivalled fane be called La 
 Chiesa aurea ; there is not a morsel of the roof, the 
 walls, the floor, the exterior, or the interior, that 
 does not present a miracle of art and beauty in 
 painting, sculpture, goldsmith's work, marble, bronze, 
 silver, and precious stones. 
 
 The study of a life is scarcel}^ sufficient to trace 
 the wonders and beauties that crowd this glorious 
 
 u2 
 
292 CHIESA AUREA. 
 
 museum of all that is grand and gorgeous, and 
 every moment so occupied would be well repaid. 
 
 Venice is the priestess of art, and San Marco is 
 her temple. Venice owes her existence to the 
 triumph of art over nature ; even to the very soil 
 she stands on she is independent of nature, which 
 disputes with her every inch of her dominions, and 
 it is this strife which renders her beauty complete. 
 
 Venice is the realization of a poet's dream, for 
 never did a poet or a painter visit the lagune who 
 did not feel his imagination could go no further ; it 
 is possible that she is indeed 
 
 " Still dearer in her day of woe 
 Than when she was a boast, a marvel and a show.** 
 
 Every page of the history of this wonderful city 
 is written in her monuments ; scarcely a stone of her 
 buildings but has a tradition attached to it, and they 
 are not obscure though pleasing traditions, such as 
 delight the fancy in other antique towns, but those 
 that tell the fate of dynasties and kings, that recount 
 stories of long lines of princes, that preach homilies 
 on wealth and pride, that sing dirges of greatness and 
 power and beauty and glory faded, gone — fled like 
 the traces of the last year's snows in the valleys, yet 
 immortal as they are on the heights of those sur- 
 rounding Alps which close the picture of Venice in 
 the extreme distance. 
 
 Like the Alhambra of Granada, to which it must 
 surely bear much resemblance, it is not the size of the 
 
HARMONY OF VENICE. 293 
 
 building which impresses the mind, but it is the 
 exquisite perfection of every part, which i^felt as 
 well as seen. Nothing comes forth more gaudily 
 than the rest : all is harmony and repose ; if it 
 were not a fable that buildings have been raised 
 by the power of music, it might be believed of 
 Saint Mark, for there is melody and song in the 
 architecture of her fane, and poetry and feeling in 
 her piles of many-coloured marble. 
 
 I had seen every part of this fairy temple and 
 again stood on the piazza before I was conscious of 
 all that this unrivalled square possesses besides ; but 
 when I looked upon the palace of the Doges, and 
 saw groups of sauntering Greeks in their huge hra- 
 gas and scarlet caps wandering amongst the arcades 
 of the palace, I could scarcely believe but that I 
 w^as in some Moorish city, and these were the Zegris 
 and Abencerrages of romance 
 
 Close to the bright blue sea stood out the two 
 granite columns, spoils of the Crusades, which had 
 been proudly eminent there since the twelfth century ; 
 _on one glowed the winged lion, on the other St. 
 iheodore trampling on his crocodile. 
 
 The wondrous Campanile, so pondrous,, so en- 
 grossing, exalted its massive form before me, the 
 three delicate masts which were once a type of the 
 supremacy of Venice on the seas, held up their 
 slender wands from the rich bronzes which support 
 them. The Piazzetta's graceful ranges of palaces, 
 all statues and arcades, ran onwards to the quay . 
 while nearer were those mysterious pillars covered 
 
294 
 
 PIAZZA DI SAN MARCO. 
 
 with Byzantine ornament ; unexplained groups of 
 captive kings were clinging to ornamented walls, 
 and arches, all encrusted with carving like lace- 
 work, leading to distant vistas of marble stairs and 
 balustrades. 
 
 Nor is all ancient beauty in the Piazza di San 
 Marco : the modern palaces and the new arcades 
 are full of grace and dignity, and the ancient charter 
 of Venice to unite all styles with advantage seems 
 here confirmed ; the great Basilica, the Ducal 
 palace, the Campanile, the columns, the sea, the 
 houses, and even the gay cafes, and the glittering 
 shops all blend into a whole, and form a picture of | 
 rare and exquisite loveliness. 
 
 It is this that reconciles one to the act of following 
 
 the fashion of Venice and sitting on chairs at the 
 
 foot of the campanile, with all these glorious objects 
 
 of contemplation before the eyes, and taking coffee 
 
 or ice while listening to a fine military band and 
 
 gazing on richly dressed groups promenading and 
 
 chatting in a spot which seems formed only for a J 
 
 procession of nobles, such as Titian would have 
 
 painted, and over which Faliero might have 
 
 presided : a spot where the genius of Paolo 
 
 Veronese has shewn how the fair Dogaressa of the 
 
 Morosini and all her train of ladies appeared, as 
 
 she repaired to San Marco to receive the golden 
 
 rose presented to her by the Pope.* 
 
 Not even a vestige of antique costume, such as 
 
 * The fine picture representing this ceremony is at the Duke 
 of Devonshire's villa at Chiswick. 
 
FIERA FRANCA. 295 
 
 Canaletti preserves to us, is now to be seen on 
 St. Mark's — no long senatorial robes, no grace- 
 ful eastern veil or barracan — the people are 
 undistinguished in their dress, and but for a 
 sprinkling of Greek sailors there would be nothing 
 different from other Italian or French towns. Yet 
 who can forget that here was once kept the Fiera 
 Franca, a great fair in honour of the fete of the 
 Senza, or Marriage with the Sea, and here were 
 exhibited all the costumes of the East; here 
 glittered the famous crystal and glass which made 
 Venice renowned through the world ; in this place 
 stood a dark African with his rich turban and em- 
 broidered robe vaunting the merits of those mys- 
 terious feathers which Venetian hands had painted 
 so delicately and which he offered as plumes plucked 
 from the wing of the Phoenix ; eagerly bargaining 
 for the priceless treasures, so coveted by their 
 Emperor, the wandering knights of the court of 
 Charlemagne might here be seen, unarmed, deahng 
 with the artful infidel, and allowing themselves to 
 believe the marvels he related. 
 
 Here, at a stall, might be beheld those robes, all 
 glowing with jewels and gold, the only ones that 
 Charlemagne condescended to array himself in, and 
 here hung, in glittering rows, those fragile chains of 
 gold of unmeasured length which the Venetian 
 beauties of noble birth delighted to wrap round and 
 round their slender throats,— a fashion now con- 
 fined to the wives of the gondolieri. 
 
296 THE TRADER TO VENICE. 
 
 At the time when Venice was the emporium of 
 the commerce of Europe all traders, small and great, 
 repaired to the Lagune to purchase foreign wares. 
 An anecdote is related of a pedlar of Eisenach in 
 Thuringia, and Louis VI. called the Holy, husband 
 of the pious lady who is celebrated as Ste. Elizabeth 
 of Hungary, a heroine of the beginning of the 13th 
 century, which gives an amusing picture of the 
 manners of the age. 
 
 The landgrave Louis was once attending the fair 
 of Eisenach, where this pedlar, then a dealer in small 
 wares of no price, attracted his notice, and the prince 
 asked him how it was possible he could gain a sub- 
 sistence by the sale of such trifles. The pedlar 
 replied that he was obliged to do the best he could, 
 and found it difficult enough to live, but he added, 
 ' I could gain a very good livelihood, in spite of the 
 meanness of my wares, if I had but a safe-conduct 
 from one town to another.' 
 
 Louis, pleased with his readiness, ordered a small 
 sum to be given him, a safe-conduct to be made 
 out, and promised to be responsible for all losses, 
 on condition of sharing his future profits in trade. 
 
 Who was now so happy as the pedlar ? — with a 
 good prospect before him and a prince for his part- 
 ner : he carried on his little commerce briskly, and 
 travelled far with his merchandise, returning every 
 new year's day to exhibit his stock to the landgrave, 
 who selected such articles as pleased him, and 
 directed that the pedlar should be clothed in a 
 
THE LANDGRAVE. 297 
 
 dress such as those worn by the attendants of his 
 court. 
 
 Finding that his business increased, the fortunate 
 dealer purchased an ass, and at length ventured on 
 a longer journey than he had yet taken : he tra- 
 velled as far as Venice, and there possessed himself 
 of goods of a kind far superior to any he had yet 
 ventured to purchase. Elate with his important 
 acquisitions he .proudly took his way to the fair of 
 Wiirzburg, where his foreign curiosities created 
 much surprise and admiration. The sight of them 
 however excited the cupidity of certain Franconian 
 worthies, who began to entertain a strong desire to 
 ease the good pedlar of so great a load. As they 
 had no intention of disbursing on the occasion and 
 yet would not forego so excellent an opportunity of 
 becoming possessed of the coveted treasures, they 
 followed the usual plan of the day, and boldly 
 seized both the goods and the ass which bore them. 
 
 The poor pedlar fled in dismay, and made the 
 best of his way to the castle of Wartburg, where he 
 related his injuries to the Landgrave. 
 
 Louis desired him to be of good cheer, for he 
 would see him righted without loss of time : accord- 
 ingly he summoned his nobles, knights and vassals 
 for an expedition, and accompanied by the pedlar* 
 proceeded to Wiirzburg laying waste all before him. 
 The terrified people fled in all directions, and the 
 bishop, at length alarmed at what was going on, 
 despatched a messenger in all haste desiring to 
 
298 THE doge's PALACE. 
 
 know why the Landgrave acted with such violence. 
 The Landgrave simply replied: "Tell the bishop 
 I am seeking for my ass, which some of his people 
 have taken away.'* 
 
 This answer sufficiently explained matters : before 
 many hours were gone both ass and goods were 
 safely restored, and the pedlar and his partner rode 
 merrily away. 
 
 What a history is contained in the Piazza di San 
 Marco ! and what thronging memories rush into 
 the mind every time the immense square is crossed ! 
 It is like a place where eastern story-tellers resort, 
 every day new traditions, new marvels, may be 
 told there, always exciting, always interesting. 
 
 How many heroes of romance have inhabited 
 that Moorish palace, which extends from the mosque 
 of Saint Mark to the sea, and along the quay del 
 Molo or dei 'Esclavoni ! how beautiful is its facade, 
 as seen from the foot of the Campanile, what a maze 
 of trefoil-carvings above the graceful colonnades, 
 and how freshly the lace-work parapet runs along 
 the walls of marble, chequered with delicate red and 
 white lines ! 
 
 From that magnificent balcony how many Doges 
 have addressed an assembled multitude ! from that 
 balcony, what spectacles have delighted the people ! 
 thence was proclaimed by one of the council of Ten, 
 the fatal words — " Behold the blood of the traitor 
 Faliero !" as he waved aloft the sword which had 
 revenged the Republic : to that balcony on festive 
 
THE doge's palace. 299 
 
 occasions was fastened a rope which descended from 
 the summit of the Campanile, three hundred and 
 forty feet, and there the gaping crowd below saw a 
 figure, all tinsel and finery, ascend and descend the 
 perilous path for their amusement, while a pyramid 
 of tumblers fixed themselves in the most dangerous 
 part, and stood balancing themselves, between life 
 and death, between the blue sky and the pavement 
 of San Marco. . 
 
 Perhaps on this piazza, beneath the shadow of 
 those colonnades Dante might have talked with the 
 daring traveller, Marco Polo, whose adventures may 
 compare with those of Sindbad : here he might have 
 listened to his wondrous tale of 
 
 " Anthropophagi, and men whose heads 
 Do grow beneath their shoulders :" 
 
 and eagerly inquired news of 
 
 " The wondrous horse of brass, 
 On which the Tartar king did ride," 
 
 when the gorgeous Venetian penetrated to the 
 courts of the monarchs of Cathay : his poetical 
 enthusiasm might have been excited by histories of 
 Persian monarchs, of the wealth and splendour of 
 the * generous Hatim Tai,' of the 
 
 " Jewelled cup of the King Jam^id," 
 and the tear might have started to his eyes for his 
 own loved Beatrice, as he heard of the sorrows of 
 Leila and her 
 
 " hapless Mejnoon, mad for love," 
 and the misfortunes of the deathless artist Ferhad, 
 
300 VENEZIA LA BELLA. 
 
 who carved the story of his passion upon the rocks 
 of Boysitoun ; for Marco Polo the Venetian must 
 have brought home much lore as well a» riches 
 with him from his voyages to the East. 
 
 No wonder that Petrarch could not restrain his 
 exclamations of admiration, when he first gazed 
 upon the glory of the palaces of Venice— no wonder 
 he endowed her with his precious library — no wonder 
 that all the poets of Italy worshipped at her shrine, 
 and all of a poetical spirit venerate her ! No won- 
 der that she is called Venezia la Bella, and that her 
 name and that of beauty are synonimous! 
 
 The first day I was at Venice I could only gaze 
 about me in a confused state of delight at every- 
 thing I saw, unable to appreciate at their full value 
 the treasures spread out before me. I was not sur- 
 prised at the wonders I saw because I had expected 
 them, but I did not imagine it possible that highly 
 raised expectation could have been so entirely satis- 
 fied and anticipated pleasure so fully realised. 
 
 We were still lingering as we passed a few of the 
 three hundred fairy bridges, which span the blue 
 canals, when some heavy rain-drops warned us to 
 hasten back to the Leone Bianco. The lively crowds 
 which filled the passages, began to move quicker — 
 groups of splendidly dressed Viennese ladies, as gay. 
 as if going to an evening concert, hurried forward — 
 pretty grisettes without veils, their long thick 
 shining hair rolled round the head in immense 
 plaits, decorated with a single red rose, or a few 
 
THE DUCAL FETE. 301 
 
 silver or bead pins, folded their glittering fans, and 
 tripped up the steps : the female water-carriers with 
 their beaver hats and pails slung to a yoke over their 
 shoulders moved rapidly along, and as we heard the 
 well-known growl, which announced the evening 
 temporale we were not sorry to re-enter our hotel by 
 the street side. 
 
 For several hours during the remainder of the 
 day the storm was at an awful height, but splendid 
 in the extreme in the eyes of those who feel admi- 
 ration, not fear, at such sublime spectacles. As we 
 sat at dinner, in a large saloon, the vivid flashes 
 which illuminated our table was, it is true, some- 
 what startling, and we were forced to draw round 
 us a huge screen and close the curtains of the 
 many windows, in the hope of excluding its visits ; 
 but afterwards, as I watched the gambols of the 
 storm -spirits from my own apartment over the 
 canal, I confess, that I did not regret the occur- 
 rence, so beautiful did Venice look amidst her pas- 
 sionate tears and brilliant smiles, for the sun con- 
 I^Knued to shine in the midst of all this commotion 
 ^KS the elements, as if unmoved at their clamour. 
 I^F It was impossible to venture out in a gondola 
 that evening, unless we had a desire to realize a 
 picture drawn by a friend, who related to me an 
 adventure of her own, which occurred many years 
 since at Venice. There was a grand fete given by 
 the archduke, in the Palazzo di San Marco, to which 
 all the strangers of rank, as well as all the nobles 
 
 I 
 
302 THE IMPROVISED MASQUE. 
 
 in Venice were invited. The evening was calm and 
 lovely at the hour when every gondola was ready 
 to bear its freight to the palace stairs : but scarcely 
 had half the Canal' Grande been gained when a storm, 
 such as we experienced, came suddenly on : the 
 fi*ail coverings of the gondolas were inadequate to 
 keep out the deluge, and all the fair guests of the 
 Ducal party arrived drenched with rain and sea 
 water: as they entered the gilded and glittering 
 apartments, every one had to shake her dripping 
 plumes and wring the moisture from her robes, so 
 tliat the whole scene presented an appearance of a 
 masque of Naiades acted to the life. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE EVE AND FEAST OF ST. JOHN — THE WARRIORS OF THE 
 CROSS — THE MERCHANT-SPIRIT — THE BARGAIN — DANDOLO— 
 BYRON — THE PALACES OF VENICE — TAGLIONI AND THE 
 Ca' d'ORO— the ARMENIANS — THE PRINTING PRESS — MECHI- 
 TARISTICAN SOCIETY— MECHITAR — STRUGGLES — THE SONS OF 
 THE VIRGIN — THE MOREA — EMIGRATION TO VENICE — THE 
 ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 The night which followed our first stormy even- 
 ing at Venice, w^as calm and clear, and I enjoyed 
 exceedingly looking out upon the fine canal, where 
 the dip of oars was occasionally heard in the dark 
 waters, and I could watch many a gliding gondola 
 pass, only distinguishable by the bright fire-fly 
 spark of its light. A long line of palaces lay re- 
 flected deep in the waters, and, just beneath me, the 
 waves splashed against the steps, where several boats 
 moored to the pillars, were restlessly dancing up and 
 down. There were no songs, no words of Tasso, 
 from the gondolieri, but across the waters their 
 occasional cries did not sound unmusically, min* 
 gled with the solemn tones of several church bells, 
 " swinging slow," as their spectral voices announced 
 the Eve of St. John. 
 
 The Feast of Saint John was once an important 
 period for Venice, for that was the day agreed on,^ 
 
304 THE FEAST OF ST. JOHN. 
 
 when the confederated powers of Europe, at the 
 opening of the 13th century, should assemble in 
 the favoured city, and from thence set out on the 
 glorious expedition, whose object was the rescue of 
 the Sepulchre of the Lord from the hands of the 
 Paynim. 
 
 The blind and aged Dandolo was then sovereign 
 of Venice, and to him were sent envoys from the 
 illustrious knights of France and Flanders — Count 
 Baldwin, Count Thibault, and others of high renown. 
 
 " We are come," so ran their address to the Doge, 
 ** from the most powerful barons of France, who 
 have assumed the Cross to avenge the wrongs of 
 our Lord, and to recover Jerusalem, if God permit. 
 Those knights are aware that you and your people 
 are mighty to assist them, and they implore your 
 pity for the Holy Land, begging for ships, and the 
 means of passage thither, desiring you to join in 
 their pious endeavours." 
 
 The aid required was granted by the magnificent 
 Republic, and a supply at once promised of vessels 
 for the transport of four thousand five hundred 
 horses, and nine thousand esquires, besides others 
 for four thousand five hundred knights, and twenty 
 thousand sergeants or servientes on foot, and provi- 
 sions for a year for all this body. Eighty-five thou- 
 sands marks in money, about 170,000 pounds ster- 
 ling, was demanded by the merchant princes for 
 this service, and the Doge himself, in order to induce 
 the knights to agree to the bargain, promised to 
 
THE WARRIORS OF THE CROSS. 305 
 
 contribute fifty galleys for the love of God, free of 
 expense, stipulating that all conquests made by sea 
 and land during the holy expedition should be 
 divided equally between the pious princes and their 
 assisting friends. This transaction, it must be con- 
 fessed, has much the air of a mercantile venture on 
 one side and a marauding expedition on the other — 
 but it passed for piety in those days. 
 
 On the feast of St. John, Venice was to receive 
 these noble warriors of the cross, the Lagune was to 
 be covered with her armaments, and the Adriatic 
 was to be crowded with her sails : but though many 
 brave and pious enthusiasts kept their word, and 
 arrived on the holy eve of the Saint, others failed, 
 being diverted from their purpose by various causes 
 and induced to sail from other ports. 
 
 Venice was, however, nobly true to her agree- 
 ment, exceeding instead of falling short in the pro- 
 mises she had made. Nothing had ever yet been 
 seen in Christendom equal to the fleet she provided, 
 and sad was it to find that there were more ships 
 ready than crusaders to fill them. 
 
 Villehardouin the historian exclaims in indigna- 
 tion on the occasion : " Ha ! what a curse it was 
 that so many sought other ports and came not to 
 join the army, for then had Christendom been ex- 
 alted, and the land of the Infidels subdued !" 
 
 The grateful leaders saw with consternation 
 that though all was prepared that they had de- 
 manded, the unexpected defection of so many of 
 
 k 
 
306 THE MERCHANT. 
 
 their number, rendered it out of tlicir power to 
 fulfil their own engagement, and the sums for 
 the Venetians were no where to be found. Gold, 
 silver, jewels, vessels of precious workmanship, all 
 that the chiefs could gain or borrow, all that they 
 possessed, were cheerfully poured forth in payment ; 
 but where were the treasures promised by the Count 
 of Blois, where the riches dedicated to the cause, 
 by the dying Thibault of Champagne — why lingered 
 the Duke of Burgundy, and the Count of Bar le 
 Due, and how came it that thirty-four thousand 
 marks were yet unpaid ? 
 
 The spirit of the Merchant was however awake, 
 and an advantage became apparent which was not 
 to be lost. The Republic sighed for the repossession 
 of Zara, their revolted colony now possessed by the 
 King of Hungary. Zara lay in the way of the 
 Crusaders as they sailed down the Adriatic — "Restore 
 Zara to us," said they, " and we will take that 
 service in payment." 
 
 Great was the consultation, and long the debate 
 on this important question : for the Pope had com- 
 manded that no contention should arise between any 
 Christian princes, but that the holy war should reign 
 alone. The King of Hungary himself had taken 
 the cross, and to attack him was an infringement 
 on the rule laid down : but there was no other way, 
 and Venetian eloquence carried the day. 
 
 The Barons and the Pilgrims had assembled to 
 h€ar a solemn mass in the church of St. Mark, after 
 
DANDOLO. 307 
 
 the ratification of the new agreement, when, instead 
 of the priest whom they expected, the aged Doge 
 himself mounted the tribune and addressed to them 
 these welcome words. 
 
 " Signiors, you are associated with the bravest 
 people upon earth, for the most holy of enterprises. 
 I am very old and feeble, and -it may be that repose 
 is more needful to me than glory : but I have yet 
 power and ability to command and to direct, and if 
 you will that I should assume the sign of the cross, and 
 leave my son in my place at home, I will cheerfully 
 accompany you on your noble expedition, and take 
 charge of the fleet, as the Marquis of Montferrat 
 has of the land forces." 
 
 His noble offer was accepted with one voice, and 
 many noble Venetians, excited by the example of their 
 Doge, proclaimed themselves ready to follow him. 
 
 Dandolo descended from the tribune, cast himself 
 on his knees before the high altar, and bathed in 
 tears of holy fervour, placed the cross in his ducal 
 cap. 
 
 On Midsummer-day the weather was the most 
 delightful imaginable: warm, sunny, clear, and fresh, 
 and it was with infinite pleasure that I took my place 
 in a gondola at the foot of the hotel stairs, where 
 stood to assist us two important characters ; one a 
 black who had been in Lord Byron's service, and is 
 now devoted to that of his countrymen, being the 
 most intelligent, good-natured, civil and honest of 
 ,Jjis class ; speaking several languages — English in 
 W x2 
 
308 BYROK. 
 
 particular — well, and possessing a variety of useful 
 accomplishments. The other personage, a tall, \\r\\- 
 dressed and remarkably respectable-looking old man, 
 followed us into the gondola, having been engaged 
 as our guide during our stay in the watery city : he 
 had also lived with Byron, and in common with all 
 who speak of him, seemed to have a tender recollec- 
 tion of his generosity and benevolence. 
 
 No doubt it is well ascertained by this time that 
 the English love and expect to hear of Byron 
 at Venice, (or Greneva), as they do of Romeo and 
 Juliet at Verona, and many anecdotes are doubtless 
 invented by the acute Italians to amuse and please 
 them, but I think there is no mistaking the genuine 
 feeling of regard which he has inspired in all those 
 who knew him : his name seems always to awaken 
 recollections of some amiable action, and the traits 
 in his character recorded are usually of that melan- 
 choly kind which endears him to the imaginative 
 people amongst whom he lived for three years, dis- 
 pensing his bounty with an unsparing hand. 
 
 Nothing can be compared to the pleasure of finding 
 oneself seated in a gondola, on a bright glowing 
 morning, and being impelled noiselessly along the. 
 beautiful Canal' Grande between rows of palaces 
 ancient and modem, every one of which seems 
 teeming with romantic and historical recollections/ 
 Mocenigo, now sacred to the memory of Byron : 
 the palace of the Foscari, no less so, where the mag- 
 nificent Francis I. was lodged when he came to 
 
THE PALACES OF VENICE. 309 
 
 Venice, and which is placed in a most imposing po- 
 sition, within sight of the poet when he wrote his 
 eloquent record of the sorrows of the original owners 
 of the splendid but now ruined fabric, w^hich is how- 
 ever shortly to be restored by Government, and will 
 rise agrain from its disorrace. 
 
 The same renovation awaits the fairy palace called 
 the Ca' d'Oro, which will shortW repair its drooping 
 head, and 
 
 " with new spangled ore 
 Shine in the forehead of the morning sky." 
 
 3vertheless both of these g:ems of art are even now 
 M' beautiful that one dreads even a touch should 
 impair their nameless grace; if not submitted to 
 such rescue they must however shortly sink into 
 the waves that bathe their feet, and one can only 
 trust that the graceful Taglioni, to whom the en- 
 chanted halls of the Ca' d'Oro now belong, will suffer 
 no hand ruder than her own to wave directions over 
 the exquisite pile which she proposes shall once 
 more glitter above the proud waters of the grand 
 canal, as splendid as of yore. 
 
 The Grimani, the Contarini, and a host of palaces 
 .ud on each side of the watery way, and lofty 
 churches, glittering domes and spires peer over each 
 other, rising majestically along the shores. 
 
 '• Voieaaa I Yenezia I chi non te rede non te pr^jia T' 
 Well might the poet Sannazaro exclaim in his en- 
 thusiasm, 
 
 " Men built Borne, but the Gods created Venice." 
 
316 SAN GIOVANNI. 
 
 Our first attempted visit to the church of San 
 Giovanni was a failure, for so great was the crowd 
 assembled, both in the church and in the little square 
 before it, that to enter the one or to penetrate the 
 other appeared impossible. There was a sort of fair 
 in front where booths were placed exhibiting nu*J 
 merous objects in glass, such as obtain great favour 
 amongst the lower classes in Venice ; flowers of spun 
 glass were glittering in all directions, and ranges of 
 bright- colon red fans invited the fair portion of the 
 visitors to shade their faces from the scorching sun. 
 
 In the centre of the piazza was a raised platform 
 with an orchestra as fine and as noisy as it could be 
 made by tinsel and by drums, and the gaping crowd 
 which was excluded from the music within, seemed 
 to enjoy what they heard here quite as much. The 
 church of San Giovanni was lighted up with thou- 
 sands of candles which looked dim and dismal com- 
 pared with the intense sunlight without, but more 
 than this eclipsed effect we could not see, as entrance 
 was quite impossible. We therefore descended the 
 steps, and re-entering the gondola, resumed our row, 
 proceeding at once across the blue expanse of water 
 towards the Armenian convent on the little island of 
 San Lazaro. 
 
 We were shewn all that may be seen of the esta- 
 blishment by a young brother whose courtesy was 
 remarkable, and who, in this respect, strictly follows 
 the rule of his interesting order. He was amused at 
 a question I asked him, whether he had ever seen 
 Lord Byron when he studied here, assuring me he 
 
THE ' ARMENIANS. 311 
 
 was not bom at that time, for I had rather consi- 
 dered his venerable garb than his looks, but he 
 pointed out two brothers who were walking in the 
 gardens to whom the poet had been well known. His 
 signature in the strangers' book I saw with much in- 
 terest. The name in English is a curious blotted 
 scrawl, and gives an idea that he had not altogether 
 decided how to spell his name at that period ; he has^ 
 repeated it in the Armenian character at the foot of 
 the page. ^ ? v 
 
 Here for several hours every day Byron was 
 accustomed to study, and calmly and pleasantly 
 must these hours have passed away in this quiet 
 retreat ; from the windows of the library the Lagune 
 spreads out broad and clear, and all intercourse 
 seems cut off with the busy world of Venice. 
 
 There is a printing establishment, and books are 
 beautifully got up here both in French, Italian, 
 English, and Armenian ; we brought away a few 
 as specimens, which are sold by the brothers. 
 
 The garden walks are covered with trellices of 
 grape vine, and form charming Secluded promenades 
 where the inhabitants of the convent recreate them- 
 selves and contemplate. There reigns over all a 
 perfect calm and repose, and the neatness of every 
 part of the establishment is delightful, as well as 
 the polite and graceful manners of the members of 
 this interesting society. 
 
 Their funds seem ample, and are increased by 
 occasional bequests from generous individuals whose 
 
312 MECHITARISTICAN SOCIETY. 
 
 portraits adorn their apartments. They have a 
 college established at Padua for the education of 
 poor orphan Armenians, and although their regu- 
 lations forbid the reception of foreigners into the 
 society, they willingly allow them to study under 
 the direction of their learned professors. They cor- 
 respond with literary societies in the most remote 
 countries, and in Rome they have lately acquired 
 some property. 
 
 In the church, which is very simple, there are few 
 ornaments or pictures, one is remarkable as being 
 executed by a converted Turk : it is a well painted 
 copy of Sassoferrato's Madonna. 
 
 They possess a valuable collection of Armenian 
 Manuscripts, and a good library. Their books are 
 distributed throughout Asia, and the type of the 
 Armenian press is particularly fine and clear. 
 
 In 1810, when the other monastic establishments 
 of Venice were suppressed, this, which is called the 
 Mechitaristican Society, by virtue of a particular 
 decree, remained in its former independence, and 
 as the brothers have now some lands which they 
 purchased of the Venetian state, and some capital 
 in its bank, they are likely to continue flourishing 
 in their works of benevolence and utility. 
 
 The founder of the Society was an Armenian 
 doctor, named Mechitar, who was born at Sebaste, 
 a city of Armenia Minor^ in 1676. He distin- 
 guished himself from early youth, by his learning 
 and piety, and at fifteen became a monk in the 
 
MECHITAR. 313 
 
 convent of the Holy Cross. Here he devoted him- 
 self to reading and composition, but, afterwards 
 travelling with a Doctor of the order, he met, in 
 Armenia Major, with an European missionary, 
 and gained from him much satisfaction and infor- 
 mation relative to European concerns. 
 
 Mechitar appears to have been born a poet, for 
 in his retreats he was continually composing hymns 
 and sacred verses, which he recited to his pupils and 
 friends, and the study of holy poems was his great 
 delight. 
 
 His chief desire was to visit Europe, and he made 
 several attempts to do so, without success, storms 
 and sickness having driven him back, when on his 
 way from Asia. His wish was to establish a literary 
 academy with a view to the enlightenment of his 
 countrymen, and many and various were the diffi- 
 culties he underwent, before he could succeed in 
 that which he felt would be so useful. In all his 
 dangers and troubles his lyre was never mute, and 
 the poet-priest still sang his sorrows in melodious 
 numbers, describing his hair-breadth scapes in 
 moving and eloquent strains. 
 
 At length, in spite of the opposition which had 
 so long retarded his views, from ignorant ene- 
 mies or timid friends, and after toilsome journeys 
 and repeated disappointments, Mechitar fixed him- 
 self at Constantinople in the year 1700, and gained 
 followers enough to support him in his plans of 
 pubHc good. Some of these he sent to preach in 
 
314 STRUGGLES. 
 
 the different cities of Armenia, and others remained 
 with him under the same roof to pursue their stu- 
 dies. 
 
 Here he estabhshed a printing press, and issued 
 works on spiritual subjects : and having taken a 
 house at Pera, he got together all the implements 
 necessary for bookbinding as well as printing : he 
 was, however, obliged to conceal the real object of 
 his occupation, as he had many enemies to contend 
 with, who opposed the propagation of Christian 
 doctrine. 
 
 So violent, at one time, was the feeling against 
 him that it was resolved that he should be seized 
 and sent to the galleys. But he obtained timely 
 notice of this plot, and being protected by the French 
 ambassador, escaped it. Finding, however, that to 
 stem the torrent of ignorance and superstition, which 
 prevented the spread of knowledge in the East was 
 a vain attempt, he wrote to all those of his followers 
 who were scattered in the different towns of Armenia 
 preaching, and informed them that he desired their 
 return, in order that they might emigrate in a body 
 to some place where their society might be estab- 
 lished on a secure footing. 
 
 Mechitar had, at this time, retired under the pro- 
 tection of the ambassador, to a convent of Capuchins, 
 and there he heard some merchants speak of the fer- 
 tility and good climate of the Morea, which was then 
 subject to the governor of the Republic of Venice, 
 He proposed to his friends that they should all re- 
 
THE SONS OF THE VIRGIN, 315 
 
 tire to this favoured spot, and accordingly they took 
 steps for the purpose. They elected him their head, 
 and chose as the badge of their society, four Arme- 
 nian letters which signify " The Sons of the Virgin — 
 preachers of Repentance." 
 
 Secretly and cautiously, and in small numbers, 
 they departed from Constantinople, and when the 
 patriarch himself set forth, he possessed only four 
 hundred piastres,* with which to begin his establish- 
 ment in a foreign country. But nothing could 
 shake his resolution, and in spite of flight and pur- 
 suit, and dangers and hurricanes, he still went on 
 his way rejoicing and invoking the ever ready 
 Muses. 
 
 At length he reached Napoli di Romagna, and 
 there sat himself quietly down with sixteen of his 
 adherents : a portion of land was assigned them by 
 the governors, who gladly received them, but the 
 funds they possessed were so small that for three 
 years, these learned and persevering men were 
 obliged to subsist almost wholly on charity. 
 
 At length interest began to be awakened to the 
 merits of the fraternity who patiently endured sq 
 much for the sake of learning and rehgion. Several 
 grants of money were made them, and Mechitar 
 began to build a church and erect an edifice for 
 his projected monastery. 
 
 For twelve years the society slowly but surely 
 improved in its progress in the Morea, when unfor- 
 * A piastre then valued two shillings. 
 
316 EMIGRATION TO VENICE. 
 
 tunately war broke out between the Venetians and 
 the Turks : the latter ravaged the province, and 
 Mechitar and most of his party were obliged to 
 
 fly. 
 
 They took refuge in Venice in 1715, and esta- 
 blished themselves, sadly and despondingly, in a 
 mean house in the quarter of San Martino. Some 
 of the body in the mean time had been taken pri- 
 soners by the Turks, who had got possession of 
 Modon, the chief town of the Morea, and had sold 
 them as slaves. They were, however, fortunate 
 enough to be bought by Christians, and were thus 
 once more restored to the parent stock. 
 
 The respect in which the Armenian fugitives 
 were held induced the Venetian government to 
 assist them, and finally to permit them to estab- 
 lish themselves on the island of St. Lazaro near 
 the city. A hospital for lepers had formerly 
 been built there in 1180, which was dedicated 1 
 to St. Lione, but not having been for many 
 years required, and an establishment for the poor 
 which had replaced it having been found too 
 distant from Venice, no objection was raised to 
 the Armenians becoming the possessors of the 
 island. 
 
 Mechitar and his flock, poor and wretched, with 
 a meagre prospect before them, debts impending 
 and difficulties threatening, took their way from 
 Venice across the Lagune to this solitary spot, 
 where all looked desolate and forlorn : they found a 
 
THE ESTABLISHMENT. 317 
 
 ruined church and a deserted dwelling, containing 
 only a few rooms, two wells and a garden. 
 
 Out of these materials the zealous and deter- 
 mined patriarch, regardless of all opposition, and 
 contemning all dangers, at length succeeded in 
 erecting a humble monastery for the dwelling of 
 his monks ; restored the old church and placed five 
 altars in it. By degrees new chambers were added, 
 a belfry erected, a refectory and a library ; and at 
 length the Armenian convent rose, a respectable 
 pile, above the encircling waters, an enduring mo- 
 nument of successful perseverance in a good cause. 
 Mechitar received into his establishment Armenian 
 youth of every degree, making no distinction 
 between poor and rich. After having tried them 
 some time, in order to discover their talents and 
 disposition, he clothed them in a black robe, accord- 
 ing to the costume adopted by his society, and 
 committed them to the school of the Noviziato, 
 where they had fitting tutors to superintend their 
 education, the general direction being reserved to 
 himself. He afterwards advanced them according 
 to their progress and capabilities. No foreigner was 
 admitted, as the intention w^as purely to afford in- 
 struction to the Armenian nation which stood in 
 need of it. Amongst the most learned and useful 
 studies that of languages was particularly attended 
 to, — the Armenian being of course the chief, — 
 whence it followed that in this island it flourishes 
 in the greatest purity. 
 
318 THE abbot's death. 
 
 The venerable abbot closed his amiable and use- 
 ful life at the «ige of seventy-four, and is buried in 
 the sanctuary of his church, in a tomb prepared by 
 himself long before his death. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 P 
 
 THE LIDO — THE BURIAL GROrNB — THE SHADE OF THE POET — 
 THE CARNATIONS — THE STARFISH — THE CICERONE— -CHURCHES 
 — GONDOLA LIFE — GOOD FORTUNE AT VENICE— GAMPANILE-r- 
 VENICE SEEN FROM ITS HEIGHT — TWILIGHT — THE LIGHTS 
 
 ON THE CANALAZO — PALACE OF THE DOGES PICTURES— 
 
 — BARBABOSSA—^POZZI — BASILICA PALA D*ORO. 
 
 After we had taken leave of our friends at tfie 
 Armenian convent, we re-entered the gondola and 
 rowed on to the Lido, where we landed on a melan- 
 choly-looking shore, at the place where Lord Byron 
 kept his stables, and where, after his hours of study 
 at the convent, he was accustomed to mount his 
 horse and take exercise. 
 
 Two shabby little tenements are erected here 
 for the convenience of the Duke of Brunswick, who 
 comes to this spot to bathe, smoke, and breakfast. 
 Nothing can look more utterly uncomfortable than 
 the whole arrangement. It is in the midst of the 
 Jews' burial ground, and a place fit only for a party 
 whose conversation should be 
 
 " Of graves, and epitaphs, and worms." 
 We walked across this mournful tract, which, at 
 J a solitary hour, must be as dismal as the heath over 
 II which 
 
 " Poor Marianne, 
 The darling of Aix la Chapelle/* 
 
 k 
 
320 THE LIDO. 
 
 wandered to meet Jier Leopold and stumbled on " the 
 
 little grey man," or the spot chosen by Rudiger for 
 
 his sacrifice to the Fiend, 
 
 " It was a place all desolate, 
 
 Nor house, nor tree was there." 
 
 The Jews' graves are scattered here and there 
 amongst the rough grass and sand, the inscribed 
 stones lying flat, and most of them in a very decayed 
 state : we heard some mournful singing at a dis- 
 tance, and a crowd surrounding a newly made grave. 
 At length a deep, hollow roar startled the gloomy 
 silence, and I found myself standing on the lonely 
 coast of the Lido, with the wide Adriatic beating 
 hoarsely on the sands. 
 
 I walked down close to the waves, and looked 
 over the dreary and solemn expanse, and along the 
 flat and unbroken shore where, day after day, the 
 greatest poet of his age, alone and full of moody 
 musings, would ride rapidly backwards and for- 
 wards as far as the tide permitted, from this spot to 
 a ruined church at the extremity of the Lido. 
 
 The picture was sad in the extreme, and no one 
 could contemplate it without feeling the deepest com- 
 passion for the unfortunate genius, who, under the 
 influence, as it were, of an evil star, wasted away 
 his life in sullen regrets and unavailing fretfulness, 
 creating his own miseries, and unsoothed by a single 
 home comfort. 
 
 If ever the world of shadows were revealed to 
 mortal eye, it is here, along the distnal coast of the 
 
THE LIDO. 321 
 
 Lido, that one might expect to see, at gloomy even- 
 ing, the figure of the wild horseman, his dark eyes 
 flashing through the mist, his arms tossed impa- 
 tiently towards the lowering sky, while his fiery 
 steed, urged by his menacing voice, scours along the 
 sands, and disappears from view in the distance to- 
 wards the low lands of Malamocco. 
 fe A boy met us on the sands with bouquets of fresh 
 carnations, which I gladly accepted as a memorial, 
 though nothing could be less in character than these 
 glowing flowers and the desolate shore, divested of 
 every appearance of cultivation. I picked up a few 
 common shells and a dry star-fish as more appro- 
 priatet o the spot, for they reminded me of a French 
 author's simile, which I could not butapplyto the poet, 
 " whose image would not be forgot :" 
 
 " I am deserted and desolate —abandoned on the solitary shore, 
 like a star-fish which the retreating waves have left behind." 
 
 Our guide told us that Byron, after his melancholy 
 ride, would frequently pass his evenings at the theatre 
 and in parties where his society was greatly coveted 
 — " for," said he, "he was very attractive, very 
 amiable, and molto hello.'' 
 
 Strange that to all his dependants he uniformly 
 appeared "amiable"! — this man described him as 
 extremely generous, and doing continual acts of 
 benevolence. 
 
 The tears started to the old man's eyes as he 
 named him, and probably his sensibilities being 
 thus roused caused him on our return to sink into a 
 
 k. 
 
322 THE CICERONE. 
 
 sadness, from which he did not ^eem to care to be 
 disturbed. Now and then he spoke to our attendant 
 who had known him formerly, and 1 heard after- 
 wards that he was moralizing on the vanity of life, 
 and regretting that he had outlived so much that 
 made existence joyous : *' I am old," he said, " and 
 no one regards me now.*' 
 
 I imagine that this mood was caused by words 
 which he might have overheard from one of our 
 party, who being by no means wedded to poesy, 
 not only depreciated his late poet-patron, and sneered 
 at his praises of him, but betrayed some impatience 
 at the tedious manner in which he executed his part 
 of cicerone. 
 
 I was sorry that the poor old man's feelings were 
 hurt, and I could not help sharing in the vexation 
 he felt : he attached himself to me during the re- 
 mainder of our sight-seeing, and continued to 
 describe almost in a whisper, as if he feared the 
 ridicule which might attach to any exhibition of en- 
 thusiasm. I always observe that a cicerone thinks 
 it necessary when he is detailing the merit of an 
 object, to stand precisely in the way of your regard, 
 therefore the preference I had attained from my sen- 
 timental friend was rather endured than enjoyed on 
 my part ; particularly as he was too sensitive for me 
 to beg him to change his usual habit. 
 
 This custom I had reason to regret sometimes in 
 visiting churches, where more than usual liberty 
 of light is generally required for the pictures, which 
 
CHURCHES. 323 
 
 in my opinion, are never seen to advantage over 
 altars and overshadowed by pillars, or with cross 
 lights from numerous windows destroying their 
 repose. The general effect of a richly coloured 
 picture may be extremely grand and harmonious 
 surrounded by gilding and touched with light stream- 
 ing from painted glass, but its true merits can scarcely 
 be appreciated amidst such disturhative adjuncts. 
 
 Venice is full of fine churches, which it requires 
 time to study and do justice to : many master-pieces 
 of art are contained in them, but few are in good 
 lights. In San Giovanni e Paolo, the carved monu- 
 ments of several Doges are extremely grand : here 
 lie Morosini, Steno, Mocenigo, Loredano, and 
 others in tombs of Greek marble, finely sculptured. 
 The choir is rich in bronzes and marbles, and the 
 painted glass is good. 
 
 Titian's famous St. Peter Martyr was formerly 
 in this church, but is removed to the Academia. Tin- 
 toretto, Vivarini and Bellino have adorned the altars, 
 and the whole effect is grand and more than 
 usually solemn. 
 
 After pausing at Santa Maria della Salute, and 
 visiting II Santissimo Redentore, both fine and im- 
 posing buildings, each containing stores and treasures 
 of art, we rowed back to the hotel. I could not 
 help enjoying more this existence on the water than 
 looking at all the glorious pictures and carvings 
 which fill the countless churches. The novelty of 
 
 Y 2 
 
 k 
 
^24 GONDOLA LIFE. 
 
 this Style of life possessed extraordinary charms 
 for me, and I grudged every moment out of the 
 gondola. 
 
 I never felt weary of gliding along between the 
 rows of palaces on the grand canal, nor did I dis- 
 like the narrow water streets either, where you are 
 constantly darting under bridges, and turning sharp 
 round corners with a warning cry, and then you 
 emerge into the broad canals, and pause before the 
 long flights of marble steps which lead to some 
 beautiful building. 
 
 During the time of my stay at Venice the weather 
 was peculiarly propitious : though there was con- 
 siderable heat, yet a fresh breeze was never wanting : 
 the sea was always sparkling and in motion, the 
 canals never still or glassy, so that I had fortunately, 
 no opportunity of judging whether the reports of 
 certain disagreeables in Venice are true. 
 
 "For me, I think it gold, because it shines,'* 
 and am quite content to believe that Venice is always 
 as lovely and delightful as I found it, without acting 
 the part of the " Curious Impertinent" and in- 
 quiring further. 
 
 It seemed as if nature and good fortune had con- 
 spired together to exhibit Venezia la Bella in her 
 most captivating array to my eyes without a single 
 drawback, and the impression left on my mind is a 
 vision of perfect beauty, surprising in its extreme 
 novelty and enchanting in all points of view. 
 
CAMPANILE. 325 
 
 I met with travellers afterwards who had " buts" 
 
 for Venice, but I heeded them not : 
 
 " I know not, I ask not what fault's in thy heart ; 
 To me thou art lovely, whatever thou art ;" 
 
 and I imagine it is the near approach that Venice 
 makes to perfection which causes her imperfections 
 to be more severely criticised than those of other 
 cities. 
 
 It was evening when I mounted the easy stairs 
 which lead, by well constructed stages, to the top 
 of the Campanile, and by a most exquisite sunset I 
 beheld the unequalled view which is presented from 
 that exalted position. Venice and all her islands, 
 her domes and spires and minarets, her sea and 
 distant mountains lie set in golden light beneath, 
 but what struck me as curious, neither canals nor 
 bridges can be discerned, so close the streets seem 
 pressed together at that gigantic height. 
 
 The domes of the unequalled Basilica glittered 
 in the settino; sun as if all the treasures within those 
 wondrous walls, which it required eight centuries to 
 amass, were sending up their rays into the sky from 
 the horses of brass. The snowy statues ranged 
 along the palaces of the Piazzetta caught the glow- 
 ing light. St. Theodore and the immortal winged 
 Lion, on their elevated stations, were ruddy with the 
 rosy hues which rested on the Arabian arches and 
 fretted parapets of the Doge's gorgeous dwelling- 
 place. 
 
 Far away, the sheltering shores which guard sea- 
 
326 VENICE FllOM THE CAMPANILE. 
 
 girt Venice from the roused anger of the uncertcun 
 element, lay like gems upon its bosom. Chioggia, 
 Palestrina, Malamocco, with their bars of sand and 
 rock, keeping the encroaching ocean in check. The 
 Lido extended its long tongue of land, protected by 
 the fortress of San Andrea, while more in the centre 
 of the Lagune, rose the island of Murano with its 
 glass works, once the marvel of Christendom, 
 Burano, once renowned for its manufacture of lace, 
 San Servulo, San Clement, and the Armenian 
 convent. 
 
 Forth from the waters rose the resplendent domes 
 and pillars of Palladio's San Giorgio Maggiore, II 
 Redentore and other churches, those shrines of 
 Veronese, Tintoretto, Titian, and their glorious 
 brethren ; and the majestic arsenal, still magnificent 
 and powerful, seemed threatening the nations even 
 yet. 
 
 I descended from the Campanile and returned to 
 * busy life again' in the Piazza San Marco, where a 
 fine band was playing, and the whole square was 
 peopled by a fashionable crowd. I have seldom 
 seen ladies more elaborately dressed than here, 
 where the modes of Vienna are more in favour 
 than those of Paris : groups were sitting round 
 tables drinking coffee and taking ices, in costumes 
 fit for a ball ; and beautiful children in muslin and 
 ribbons were flitting about like cherubs, sharing the 
 cates provided by their brilliant mammas. 
 
 As evening approached, light after light appeared 
 
TWILIGHT. 327 
 
 under the galleries of the long arcades : lights came 
 out from the large windows above, and in a few 
 minutes the whole area was illuminated ; still the 
 music sounded, still the lively groups promenaded, 
 and all was as gay and cheerful as the boulevards 
 at Paris. 
 
 Along the Canalazzo, as we returned, every 
 palace was beaming with lights which were reflected 
 in the clear dark waters. The Rialto was lighted 
 with gas, and sent its long lines of radiance along 
 the waves ; and our Leone Bianco looked as gay as 
 the rest, as I landed at the steps and mounted to my 
 chamber to resume my place at the balcon}^, and 
 look out half the night, according to my wont, on 
 the canal and its wonders. 
 
 Although I have delayed naming the Palace of 
 the Doges, it was of course the first place in Venice, 
 after the Basilica, which I hastened to visit and ad- 
 mire. It requires some resolution, however, to 
 leave the piazza and the contemplation of those two 
 beautiful pillars of Acre, covered with graceful 
 arabesques, close to which crouch that singular 
 group of captive kings, if such they are, who seem 
 clinging to them for protection. It is difficult also 
 to cease gazing up at the unequalled beauty of the 
 Porta della Carta, and to resolve to pass through to 
 the Scala dei Giganti, every step of which, and 
 every part of every step, deserve minute observation, 
 for they are inlaid with ornaments of the richest 
 patterns. The balustrades are finely carved, the 
 
328 THE PALACE OP THE DOGES. 
 
 6up|)()its are carved, and carved baskets of fruit and 
 floM'crs stand at each corner, as if just placed there 
 by the hands of some beautiful Venetian peasant 
 girl 
 
 Tiie terrible lions' mouths in the corridor are 
 passed, as well as the grim sentinels which give 
 name to the staircase, and the palace of the Doges 
 is entered, with all its halls shining and glowing 
 from the immortal hands of Titian, Veronese, Tin- 
 toretto, Palma, and Bassano, and a host of others, 
 all presenting their best works to the dazzled eye. 
 
 There are ceilings by Veronese, which it is 
 really worth while to dislocate one's neck by ex- 
 amining. There are portraits of the Doges, by 
 Palma, which speak and tell their histories. There 
 is a Paradise, by Tintoretto, nearly as large as 
 Paradise might be, since happiness goes into so 
 small a compass. There are scenes of ancient 
 Venice, by Leandro Bassano, presenting marvellous 
 perspective ; and battles, by Tintoretto, which cover 
 the walls with banners and with galleys Zucchero 
 is here, recalling memories of Elizabeth and Mary 
 Stuart, but an emperor is his hero on this spot ; he 
 who submitted to degradation in front of the great 
 Basilica, to gratify a haughty pontiff. 
 
 Some Catholic writers deny the fact of Pope 
 Alexander the Third's arrogance on the occasion of 
 his reconciliation with the Emperor Frederic I. 
 Barbarossa, when, on the 24th July, 1177, the mo- 
 narch was compelled to bow before him on the 
 
BARBAROSSA. 329 
 
 pavement. It is asserted, that the Pope set his foot 
 upon his neck, repeating the words of Scripture, 
 " Thou shalt walk upon the asp and the basilisk." 
 
 Saxon chroniclers relate that, at that moment 
 of the Emperor's humiliation, Dieterich, the mar- 
 grave of Meissen, brother to Conrad the Rich, who 
 found the silver-mine of Freyberg, called out loudly, 
 and asked his imperial master why he submitted to 
 such degradation. 
 
 The Pope did not understand German, but the 
 gesture that accompanied the words of the fiery 
 Dieterich were probably intelligible enough, and he 
 forthwith raised the Emperor from the ground, and 
 embraced him in the usual manner. 
 
 In the public library, at Venice, is preserved the 
 chronicle of Cardinal Bessarion, which details this 
 incident, and it is said to have been commemorated 
 by the monks in a painting on the sides of the altar 
 of the church of St. Mary, at Halle, which was after- 
 wards partly effaced by the monks, out of shame, 
 but the original name of Alexander, covered with 
 the words Sanctus Josua would shine out as at first 
 represented through all the disguise put upon it. 
 
 Girolamo Gamberato's picture of the three um- 
 brellas, seems painted to prove that a pope could be 
 humble on some occasions, however arrogant on 
 others. Dandolo's Assault of Constantinople, by 
 Palm a, is marvellously forcible. The glories of the 
 republic are here figured forth, as if such fame was 
 never to decay, but, above all, the black veil which 
 
330 THE BRIDGE OF SIGHS. 
 
 covers the space where Marino Faliero should be, 
 usurps the attention and saddens the brilliant 
 colouring of the gorgeous walls of the Doge's 
 palace. 
 
 From the palace to the prisons the transition is 
 natural at Venice. After wandering in a state 
 nearly of bewilderment at their grandeur, when seen 
 for the first time, through numerous saloons full of 
 the richest specimens of art, the stranger is led to 
 view the Pozzi, and though the Sotto Piombi is no 
 longer shewn, those horrible prisons are pointed to, 
 and memory supplies the rest. The Bridge of Sighs 
 is closed, and it requires some interest to be allowed 
 to " stand" on it, and look down on the blue waters 
 which roll beneath its gloomy arch. We rowed 
 under it very often, and kept it long in our sight, 
 but were unable to " reach the right reading" of the 
 poet, as we did not exert any particular energy to 
 obtain permission that the door leading to it might 
 be opened for our benefit. 
 
 1 threaded the mazes of many a dismal passage, 
 and looked shudderingly into numerous cells, too 
 horrible for a lingering visit. On the darkened 
 walls may still be traced lines, immortalized in 
 Byron's notes, which the cicerone sullenly reads for 
 the stranger's edification, hoping to increase his 
 buono mano, but evidently disliking to awaken the 
 severity of feeling which such sights excite, towards 
 the beautiful and cruel Lady, of the Sea. The man 
 whose torch lighted up these hideous dens for us, 
 
THE DUNGEONS. 
 
 331 
 
 assured iis, as we wandered up and down, now 
 mounting, now descending narrow and intricate 
 stairs, that the dungeons were by no means uncom- 
 fortable, that they had been much traduced, that 
 there was no damp, and he seemed to think, quite 
 
 "light enough for tears." 
 
 This there was no contradicting, and as the citizens 
 of the Republic exhibit these memorials of their 
 own crimes and cruelties as little as possible, and 
 have altered them as much as prisons can be 
 changed, perhaps they do not create quite so much 
 disgust as they did formerly ; I have, myself, 
 " supped so full of horrors" of this description in 
 the many castle oubliettes of France, that, compared 
 with them, the Pozzi of Venice did not seem pre- 
 eminent. The cells set apart for political prisoners 
 are as wretched as those for felons, but our cicerone 
 observed that no one was ever put into these 
 pleasant retreats without having deserved the op- 
 portunity for solitary meditation, which those who 
 bestowed the boon upon them were seldom in haste 
 to interrupt. 
 
 As a proof, say the friends of Venice, of the 
 agreeable position of the Sotto Piombi, those cham- 
 bers that were once prisons, are now eagerly sought 
 by workmen for their various craft, in consequence 
 of their lightness and convenience — as they are so 
 n^ar the sky, they may probably suit the workers 
 in fine gold, or bead work, who, nevertheless, per- 
 
332 BASILICA. 
 
 haps do not regret the possibility of leaving the 
 locality whenever it suits them to do so. 
 
 Strange is it, after peering into the dim cells of 
 the Pozzi, again to descend to the glories of Saint 
 Marc, and to revel amongst the treasures of the 
 Basilica, to stand before those bronze and silver 
 gates where art has exhausted itself to produce 
 incomparable beauty, to enter those pillared domes? 
 and tread on that mosaic floor, wrought into every 
 pattern which Arabic invention could conceive of 
 delicacy, to glide about amongst transparent pillars 
 of oriental alabaster, of sculptured bronze, and of 
 rainbow tinted marble ; and to pause at the jewelled 
 shrine of the Pala d'oro. 
 
 This splendid relic is one of the chief boasts of 
 the treasure of Saint Marc, and as a specimen of 
 Byzantine art, is indeed without price. It has been 
 kept with great care, and frequently repaired and 
 renewed, and presents a gorgeous aspect, glittering 
 with gems, and covered with inscriptions. 
 
 Although wondrously imposing, it is scarcely so 
 beautiful as the smaller altar of San Ambrogio at 
 Milan, nor is the sculpture equal to that fine work 
 of art ; again the shrine of San Carlo Borromeo, in 
 the Duomo of Milan, is grander, but yet the * scat- 
 tered pearls' of the Pala, and its enamels and 
 countless jewels arrest and rivet the attention in a 
 most agreeable manner. 
 
 Every where the roofs of this magnificent church 
 glitter with gold and coloured mosaic, both within, 
 
PALA d'oro. 333 
 
 without, and in the galleries of entrance, and a 
 ceaseless source of enjoyment is here ever ready for 
 the admirer of Eastern splendour, in tracing the 
 treasures which every inch of San Marc displays. 
 If I had the good fortune to live a long summer in 
 Venice, I would not allow a day to pass without 
 entering this unrivalled building, and becoming 
 acquainted with its minutest particulars, for from 
 'the floor to the roof all is perfection, and all courts 
 the closest inspection. Alas ! I observed with sor- 
 row, that the beautiful flooring has been undermined 
 by frequently repeated floods, which in winter 
 sometimes cover it for some inches in height, and 
 it is now so irregular, that it is difiicult to walk 
 steadily along its variegated and uneven surface. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 SKILL OP QONDOLIEBI — GARDEN IN THE AIR-— BANKING TRANS- 
 ACTIONS — THE FUNERAL GONDOLA - CONVENT© DELLA CARITA 
 GENTIL BELLINl'S MIRACLE — TITIAN's FIRST AND LAST PIC- 
 TURE - MURANO GLASS WORKS — BAMBINO — GIRLS — VENETIAN 
 DIALECT— CHAINS - MANINI — FOSCARI — THE DOGE's DEATH — 
 TITIAN AND GIORGIONE — MANPRINI PALACE — PORDENONE'S 
 
 WIGS — ST. Joseph's honesty— islands of the lagune — 
 torcello. 
 
 One morning we rowed through several of the back 
 streets of Venice, having some business to transact 
 in the mercantile quarter, and I was much enter- 
 tained in observing the agile manner in which the 
 gondolieri contrive to elude each other as they shoot 
 by and turn corners rapidly. I can imagine that in 
 these parts of the city there may be occasionally bad 
 smells from the canals : this day, at an early hour, 
 was extremely sultry, and our oars, as they dipped 
 into the sluggish waters, did not procure us the 
 sweetest odours ; withered leaves and market refuse 
 came floating down the narrow way mixed with the 
 native sea- weed, but all was tending towards the 
 wide space where impurities are swept off into the 
 broad sea. 
 
 Our gondola paused at a flight of steps of mean 
 appearance, where we landed, and, entering through 
 an archway, came into a small gloomy court with 
 a well in the centre, of very antique and neglected 
 
BANKING TRANSACTIONS. 335 
 
 appearance. Along silent narrow passages and up 
 dark staircases we were led to the secret chambers of 
 a banker, whose ministry we sought, and at length 
 reached his retreat. Few visits are more solemn 
 than those paid to an official of this calling, and few 
 moments are less amusing than those spent in antici- 
 pation of your claims being allowed. You are apt, 
 on these occasions, to review your own character, 
 reflect on your appearance, and remain in doubt as 
 to the answer which may be returned to your ap- 
 peals, and the impression which your aspect may 
 have created on those whom you wish to propitiate. 
 Some informality may render your papers of no 
 avail or your motives suspected ; every clerk at his 
 desk, silently urging his pen, appears little less than 
 an inquisitor, and the head of all is equal to the grand 
 master himself, as long as he is still occupied in 
 reading your passport or your bill of exchange. 
 
 Most assuredly all these terrors were felt by a 
 tall, awkward-looking, rosy-faced countryman of 
 ours who sat uneasily on a bench opposite that where 
 we expected our fate, while his letters were being 
 looked over by a sharp grey-eyed little man in a 
 very shabby costume — the Shy lock who could ad- 
 vance ' monies' to the Antonios who sought his aid. 
 The ruddy hue of our compatriot paled and glowed 
 alternately, and his native mauvais-honte seemed 
 painfully increased as he found there were witnesses 
 to his examination ; how great, therefore, must 
 have been his satisfaction when the little tyrant, who 
 
336 FUNERAL GONDOLA. 
 
 held his destiny in his power, descended from his 
 high stool and advanced towards him with extended 
 handj bidding him welcome to Venice in the blandest 
 terms, uttered in very strange French. Our friend's 
 reply was in an accent approaching but little nearer 
 to the true Parisian, his agitation probably having 
 somewhat impaired his powers of expression ; but he 
 was evidently relieved and happy, and descended to 
 his gondola accompanied by a clerk bearing a 
 heap of 
 
 ** Yellow, glittering, precious gold," 
 
 or silver, in a huge bag, and he, no doubt, found 
 himself once more upon the waters quite another 
 man. 
 
 Opposite the room where we waited, across the 
 narrow canal, as I looked through the dirty windows 
 I observed a pretty garden placed on a platform on 
 the third story of the house, where geraniums, pome- 
 granates, and orange trees were blooming in great 
 beauty. There was something very curious in this 
 garden in the air, and it was singularly pleasing 
 in the midst of the gloomy street which it 
 enlivened. 
 
 As our gondola was advancing from the narrow 
 water-street into the broad lagune another glided 
 noiselessly past, of so ominous a character as to be quite 
 startling. The whole was black as usual, but, ex- 
 posed plainly to view was a coffin, by the side of 
 which sat either the undertaker or a mourner, with 
 
THE ACADEMIA. 337 
 
 a face so deadly pale and a countenance so dismal, 
 that, at the first glance, it seemed no other than that 
 of the corpse. As rapid as lightning this lugubrious 
 cortege darted by, leaving a strangely uncomfortable 
 impression behind in its track. It is always suf- 
 ficiently mournful to meet a funeral in the street, but 
 to find one in the watery path of a narrow canal, is 
 an incident, to a stranger, peculiarly melancholy. 
 
 The open and brilliant canalazo, however, held 
 out its glittering arms to console us, and a fresh 
 breeze springing up, wafted away all remembrance 
 which could sadden the beauties of Venezia la Bella 
 for a moment. 
 
 We hurried to the Academia, and were soon 
 busied amongst the pictures in its halls. Here 
 Titian's glorious Assumption of the Virgin pre- 
 sents the holy mother, of celestial beauty, 
 surrounded by wreaths of dark-winged angels, 
 supernaturally real. One seraphic being in the 
 front of the picture has, however, an inexplicably 
 stiff leg, from which I in vain tried to turn my eyes 
 to the beautiful forms and faces which shine in the 
 canopy of clouds, and sustain them around the 
 chief figure. 
 
 Bassano's bold and fine conceptions are here in 
 full force ; his Raising of Lazarus is a most im- 
 posing picture. There is a picture, by Pordenone, 
 called the Election of the First Bishop of Venice, 
 which is extremely striking. The figure of St. 
 John the Baptist, with his foot on a broken pillar, 
 
 z 
 
338 CONVENTO DELLA CARITA. 
 
 in the foreground, is very grand. There is a strange 
 jumble of saints and prelates in this composition, 
 but the effect of the whole is remarkably good. 
 
 The St. Marc of Tintoretto is wonderfully drawn ; 
 the saint hovering in the air above the figures, is a 
 masterpiece of art. 
 
 Paul Veronese has an Assumption of great power, 
 but not altogether satisfactory : the figure in white, 
 in the foreground, does not please, though it attracts 
 the eye. 
 
 The Academia was, in former days, a religious 
 establishment — the Convento della Carita — and the 
 chamber that was the sacristy is very beautiful ; 
 it is full of ancient pictures by Vivarini, Murano, 
 Mattea of Bologna, and others of the fifteenth cen- 
 tury, quaint but graceful, and possessing infinite 
 beauties of their own. The two Bellinis have some 
 curious specimens scattered in different salons: one 
 amused me extremely, the canvass being covered 
 with little winged creatures, perfectly red, with most 
 energetic countenances. Gentil Bellini has pre- 
 served the memory of a miracle which occurred at 
 Venice, and which gives him an opportunity of 
 representing the costume of his own time in a most 
 animated manner : the architecture of the streets 
 of Venice is accurately given, and the picture 
 is thus extremely curious and valuable. It ap- 
 pears that some priests had been overturned into 
 the canal, on the occasion of a procession, and 
 were in great danger of drowning, but were saved 
 
PICTURES — TfTfAN's FIRST AND LAST. 339 
 
 by tlie elevation of the cross, which some of the 
 party had the presence of mind to think of, and all 
 got safely to dry land. They are floating about in 
 the water, while an immense crowd, in which each 
 figure is clearly delineated, is gazing on them from 
 the bridges, windows, and quays. 
 
 There are also several portraits of ancient Venice 
 and her picturesque inhabitants, by Mansueti and 
 Sebastiani, whfch are extremely interesting, and 
 from the hand of Salviati are many charming 
 Venetian groups. 
 
 Titian's beautiful Presentation of the Virgin, his 
 St. John, all golden light which illumines the sleep- 
 ing lamb, and Leonardo's Christ at Supper, of 
 gigantic dimensions, are each of power equal to 
 their exquisite colouring and grace. 
 
 Marco Basaiti has a picture of Christ Praying, in 
 which is a monk reading. The composition struck 
 me as very original and admirable. Over an arch in 
 front of the picture hangs a lamp, by which the recluse 
 is studying the sacred volume containing the history 
 of his Saviouj*, and the painter has presented to the 
 eye of the spectator the vision which the reader's 
 mind embraces, which fills the rest of his canvass. 
 
 Titian's first and his last works are in this fine 
 collection, and are seen with extreme interest. The 
 first is full of genius, but stiflfand somewhat laboured, 
 at least, in comparison with the last, which is un- 
 finished. The latter represents Christ dead ; the 
 colouring is cold and grey, and every part of the 
 
 z2 
 
340 MURANO. 
 
 picture is so solemn and awful that wlioever looks 
 on it remains silent for some time, after the sad 
 scene he lias witnessed. 
 
 One picture of Bassano's pleased me extremely ; 
 it is rich, deep, and dark, with a range of fine 
 pillars in the foreground, between which an angel 
 is flying with great rapidity. The illusion is quite 
 complete. 
 
 Palrao Vecchio's Woman taken in Adultery is im- 
 pressive and grand, and there is a very fine Virgin, 
 by Lucca Giordano, in his Christ taken down from 
 the Cross, in which the colouring is superb. Mar- 
 coni's picture of the Virgin and Dead Christ is also 
 fine, but the line of the figures and the cross in the 
 foreground appeared to me a little too formally 
 even. 
 
 I observed some works of an artist quite unknown 
 to me, who may have been the master of Angelica 
 Kauffman, so like are his paintings to her's : he is 
 Francisco Maggiotto, and some of the specimens are 
 full of both the grace and the defects of his imitator. 
 
 After having wearied my eyes, though not my 
 mind, amongst the treasures of the Academia, I 
 was not sorry to row over the Lagune, to the little 
 island of Murano, once famous all over the world for 
 its glass works ; there is but little at the present mo- 
 ment to interest in these works, beyond the mere 
 curiosity of the performance : the workmen at their 
 furnaces have a strange unearthly Salamander-like 
 appearance : as they draw long tubes of glass out of 
 
MURANO. 341 
 
 the fire and transfer them rapidly to other hands, 
 the whole transaction has very much the effect of 
 magic to the uninitiated. 
 
 I was much more pleased with a small establish- 
 ment within the city, where, however, I saw nothing 
 produced of more importance than beads, such as 
 are worn by the females of the lower classes. 
 
 In one room were seated, in rows, several men and 
 women busy before a gas flame close to their eyes. 
 One handsome young woman seemed proud of 
 shewing us the mysteries of the craft, and formed 
 several beads for our instruction and amusement, 
 painting the minute flowers and spots on them with a 
 fiery pencil, in the most delicate manner : but though 
 curious, there is nothing beautiful in the work pro- 
 duced, and I cannot understand how the establish- 
 ment can pay its expenses, since its productions are 
 of so mean a kind. I saw many articles in beads at 
 Venice not at all novel or worthy of remark, though 
 the shops are filled with them. The inezzara, or 
 handkerchief worn on the head by Venetian belles 
 is to be excepted, and some pretty spun-glass screens 
 of a very graceful pattern mounted in ivory ; but the 
 skill of Germany, France, and England, I believe, has 
 long since rendered the fame of Venice for excel- 
 lence in this art a mere tradition. Probably it was 
 out of a Venice glass, as they were once so renowned 
 for their occult properties, that Luther was drinking 
 at the Diet of Worms, where, it is reported, that a 
 Jewish physician received 2,000 ducats to poison 
 
342 GLASS WORKS.— BAMBINO. 
 
 liini : the elector of Treves had there invited him to 
 dinner, and just as he raised a glass filled with wine 
 to his lips, the glass broke to shivers, and the wine 
 was spilt. The accident surprised the company, but 
 Luther coolly remarked, as he set the broken glass 
 down : " The wine was not destined for me. The 
 fracture was probably owing to the abrupt transition 
 from heat to cold/' 
 
 The beads made at Murano were called formerly 
 Margaritini, but are now known as perle; why 
 they should be so designated is not very clear, as 
 they do not imitate pearls in any respect. 
 
 The prettiest thing I saw, at the glass works, was 
 a lovely little Bambino, who looked like one of the 
 cherubs in Titian's or Bassano's pictures, which 1 
 had just left. A beautiful young girl was holding 
 it, and I found its mother was the pretty woman 
 who had made us the beads. Several other remark- 
 ably handsome girls left off their work to attend to 
 our questions, and I was extremely struck with the 
 grace, ease, and remarkable courtesy of manner they 
 shewed during our rather prolonged visit. Every 
 one of them had fine eyes and hair, and though 
 negligent in their dress, were distinguished in man- 
 ner. It was impossible to have met with a more 
 favourable specimen of the style of persons of their 
 class in Venice, and I went away most pleasingly 
 impressed in their favour. The accent and dialect 
 of Venice does not, however, strike me as so pleasing 
 as I expected. I have often heard people who are 
 
GOLDEN CHAINS. 343 
 
 well acquainted with Italy admire the language as 
 spoken here, but I missed the beautiful, high- 
 sounding terminations which had so much delighted 
 my ear in the course of my journey, and which I 
 was grieved to lose so soon ; the dialect is said to 
 possess much softness, and, no doubt, to a practised 
 ear, may be more pleasing from contrast. 
 
 Day after day at Venice there are new sights and 
 scenes to be viewed, all possessing great interest ; as 
 regards the commerce of the great city, every one 
 will be disappointed, as well in the glass works as the 
 manufactory of chains, once so important, and now 
 so insignificant. As for the chains themselves, they 
 are singularly useless and fragile : the least exertion 
 of a " wanton's bird," if attached to the hand of its 
 mistress, would snap the delicate band at once, and 
 it requires a coil of them to make the slightest effect. 
 We only found two men in the obscure premises 
 where the trade of Venice in these golden fetters 
 now shrouds itself, and we saw nothing worth a 
 moment's notice there. 
 
 Amongst the many churches full of rich marbles 
 and pictures The Scalzi is the pride of the city, 
 where the last Doge, Manini, lies buried. There is 
 a forest of marble pillars of the greatest beauty 
 here, and the walls and altars are radiant with gild- 
 ing : amidst all this repose the ashes of the heart- 
 broken prince, who is said to have pined away with 
 grief at the fall of Venice, and the triumph of her 
 Austrian rival. 
 
344 FOSCARl. 
 
 The tomb of the unfortunate Doge Foscari, is in 
 tlie venerable and majestic church of the Frari or 
 8anta Maria Gloriosa, one of the earliest and most 
 interesting in Venice. The Doge's monument is 
 very magnificent and solemn, covered with statues, 
 and supported by wreathed pillars, ornamented by 
 rich pinnacles and ornaments. That of another 
 Doge, is still more elaborate and beautiful, and 
 piles of white and black marble rise in honour 
 of other of the great men of the Republic : 
 amongst them, but looking cold and meagre in their 
 vicinity, is a monument to Canova, from a design 
 of his own. Anywhere else this tomb, in modern 
 taste, would appear to more advantage, but it does 
 not seem of a piece with the rich works of Bregni 
 and Pisano. Nevertheless the shadowy figures are 
 full of grace and sorrowful beauty. Titian is buried 
 here, beneath a slab : who, since Canova failed, is 
 worthy to raise a monument to the great master, 
 one of the triumphs of whose art hangs over a neigh- 
 bouring altar ? Like Shakespeare, 
 
 ** He in our wonder and astonishment, 
 Has built himself a life-long monument." 
 
 This simple slab and the absence of a monument 
 to one of whom Venice has so much reason to be 
 proud, may remind one of the unostentatious burial 
 of another great man, whose eloquence had rendered 
 him as well known at Venice as at other cities, where 
 he had been sent ambassador by Lewis XI L of 
 France, the celebrated Budseus, on whose quiet en- 
 
THE doge's death — ^MANFRINI. 345 
 
 tombment without demonstration Melin de St. Gelais 
 
 writes : 
 
 ** Qui est celui que tout le monde suit ? 
 Las ! c'est Bude au cercueil estendu. 
 Pourquoi n'ont faict les cloches plus grand bruit? 
 Son nom sans cloche est assez espandu. 
 Que n'a t'on plus en torches despendu, 
 Suivant la mode accoustumee et saincte ? 
 Afin qu'il fust par I'obscur entendu, 
 Que de§ Fran^ais la lumiere est estiente." 
 
 The monument to the Pesaro family reaches to 
 the ceiling of the church, and is of amazing boldness 
 and richness : appropriate to the spot, and fine in 
 itself, though somewhat startling in its taste. Alto- 
 gether the Frari is full of objects of exciting interest, 
 and should be visited many times, because the Foscari 
 tomb is sure to absorb all attention on a first ac- 
 quaintance : the mournful sound of the bell of St. 
 Marc, w^hose voice, proclaiming his successor, stunned 
 and killed the unfortunate old man, rings too plainly 
 in the ears, and the poet's sad drama is too fresh in 
 the memory to allow other wonders to be appre- 
 ciated. 
 
 The pictures which, on the whole, pleased me 
 most in Venice, were the row of gems in the Man- 
 frini palace, by Titian and Giorgione, " the portrait 
 of himself and wife and son," by the latter is truth 
 itself : it matters little who are really represented 
 by these exquisite portraits ; the group is perfectly 
 true to nature and full of grace and feeling : the 
 female it not so lovely as I expected, but her reality 
 
346 CATHERINE CORNARO. 
 
 is the charm of tlie picture : she looks somewhat 
 indifferent to the devoted, earnest, and tenderly ad- 
 miring glance of he who " leans over her enamoured," 
 rather as if she " listened afar," for the footstep of 
 another : the countenance of her adorer cannot be 
 equalled, and the animated boy who seems bringing 
 tidings to both is charming. In colour, expression, 
 drawing and fidelity, this picture seems to me quite 
 faultless. Near it stands the Queen of Cyprus, the 
 majestic and interesting Catherine Cornaro, three 
 quarter length, breathing and speaking. The daugh- 
 ter of the Republic, as the adopted beauty was 
 called, is magnificently dressed in a very curious 
 costume : her robes are covered with jewels, a ruby 
 of great value is worn on her bosom, and buttons of 
 ruby fasten her dress to her waist : her tiara is 
 studded with the richest gems of rainbow hues ; 
 rising above her beautiful brow s is an eastern feather 
 of jewels, which actually glitters in the light, and 
 pearls are scattered profusely over her head-dress. 
 Her sleeves are gorgeously embroidered and bro- 
 caded, her arms are beautifully drawn, and the 
 pretty hands are joined in an easy and simple atti- 
 tude Nothing can be more graceful and attractive 
 than this delightful portrait, which is equalled only 
 by that of Ariosto, one of the most living heads that 
 ever animated canvass with golden light. After 
 having looked on this wonderful picture for some 
 time one seems quite acquainted with the great 
 recorder of Orlando's fury, whose beauty it appears 
 
pordenone's wigs. 347: 
 
 must have been equal to his genius, for a finer face 
 and features never were beheld. 
 
 Giorgione's fair one with a guitar is worthy to 
 form one of this constellation of treasures, whose 
 transcendant merit eclipses that of all others in this 
 fine collection. 
 
 A second visit to the Manfrini palace may enable 
 the lover of the beautiful in art to see and enjoy 
 many of the finest pictures in Venice. I observed 
 a Sasso Ferrato female head singularly like a recol- 
 lection I have preserved of Miss O'Neill's face in 
 one of her quietly expressive moods. Two heads 
 by Rubens are remarkably fine studies for some 
 large picture. A beautiful small Paul Veronese 
 struck me as lovely ; it represents the Virgin 
 crowned, surrounded by an atmosphere of angels, 
 like wreaths of flowers. A Virgin by Palm a Vecchio, 
 beauty itself, a marriage of the Virgin by Pordenone, 
 not less so ; but a curious contrast to another of his 
 on a sacred subject, in which are several women 
 with pretty faces, but strangely disfigured by wear- 
 ing over their own hair large frizzled wigs of light 
 colour : if this was a fashion of his day it was little 
 suited to the time he represents or the scene, and is 
 grotesque in the extreme. 
 
 Gregorio Lazarini has a charming group of the 
 Virgin, Child, and Joseph : the child is all grace 
 and infantine beauty : the mother looks very 
 busy with a pretty work basket at her feet. 
 
 Lord Byron's disgust at the portraits of Petrarch 
 
3ifS ST. Joseph's honesty. 
 
 and his Laura is not surprising : they are surpass- 
 ingly hideous. 
 
 In a room wliich opens to a really large garden, 
 hecessarily a rarity in Venice, is a collection of shells 
 and fossils of some value, and here are three cabinet 
 pictures, the boast of the Palazzo, though infinitely 
 less interesting in my opinion than the immortal 
 portraits : this continual recurrence of the same sub- 
 ject cannot fail to weary the mind beyond the power 
 of admiring the genius which goes far to surmount 
 its monotony. One of these three, however, has a 
 feature which renders it peculiar, for Ludovico 
 Caracci has represented the holy family just landed 
 from a ferry-boat, and Saint Joseph occupied in 
 paying the ferryman, a proof of attention to business 
 which such personages have rarely the credit of pos- 
 sessing. The other two gems are a Magdalen by 
 Correggio, exquisitely finished, and a group in 
 Raphael's early style of much beauty. 
 
 The islands of the Lagune invite from afar as they 
 rise out of the blue waters, and one of the most in- 
 teresting and ancient is that of Torcello, whose 
 church I was most anxious to see. That at Murano 
 is so modernized that, although of the 9th century, 
 it has little left to attract except its form, a few 
 Greek marble pillars, and a rich pavement, similar 
 to St. Mark's. 
 
 We rowed past and between the islands of the 
 Pescatores, which form a populous suburb to Venice, 
 and glided along beneath garden walls over which 
 
Ifct li 
 
 TORCELtO. 349 
 
 bunches of pomegranate blushed, and sweet flowers 
 threw their odour on the early morning breeze. It 
 as curious to pass boats laden with fruit, vegetables, 
 and flowers from these islands, looking like those 
 eastern barks tilled with offerings to some deity 
 secluded amidst the reeds and palm trees of the 
 Ganges or the Nile. Instead of the bakers, and 
 butchers' carts which meet one in most cities, one is 
 encountered on the Lagune by boats, some filled w ith 
 loaves piled up in huge pyramids, and others full of 
 merchandize of different kinds, all rowing towards 
 the mart where the produce of the islands is expected 
 by their nursing mother. 
 
 Torcello is a very wild, desolate, mysterious spot, 
 which we reached after a row of between two and 
 three hours from Venice. It is now the lonely abode 
 of a few fishermen, whose slovenly cottages are 
 scattered round the extensive remains of the once 
 magnificent churches, the pride of the city when it 
 flourished in power and wealth, and the abode 
 of mighty bishops, who gave laws to neighbouring 
 nations. 
 
 The appearance of these ruined temples is ex- 
 tremely picturesque, and it is impossible not to see 
 in them the remains of Pagan worship. The style 
 is somewhat rude and ponderous, and the remnants 
 of carving, both in figures on the walls, in the font, 
 and in the capitals of columns, are strangely like 
 many remains of Saxon art which one meets with in 
 France. 
 
850 TOHCELLO. 
 
 There are window shutters to Santa Maria formed 
 of stone slabs, very remarkable and unusual, probably 
 required to protect the church from the violence of 
 the wind in this exposed spot. An immensely higli 
 campanile-tower rises above the Duomo, and ap- 
 pears as if formerly well able to stand a siege. The 
 church of Santa Fosca is so close by the cathedral 
 that it seems to form a part of the ruins, scattered 
 as they now are over a wide and uneven grassy 
 plain, and there is a crowd of circular ends of build- 
 ings supported by rows of pillars, with round arches 
 and zig-zag ornaments, and temple-formed chapels, 
 overgrown with trees, rising amidst a green meadow 
 which is called the Piazza di Torcello, in the midst 
 of which is a rude stone, called the 'Throne of 
 Attila,' now nearly embedded in the earth, and 
 covered with the long waving grass which chokes 
 up the path to it. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 BOTANIC GARDEN — THE LAST EVENING IN VENICE— THE AVE 
 MARIA— ANDREA THE BAKER OF MAZORBO— THE FUNERAL 
 AT THE CAMALDOLESI CONVENT— THE MURDERER — SUNSET 
 ON THE GIUDECCA — THE HOUR OF AVE MARIA— THE DISAP- 
 POINTMENT YOUNG VENICE THE PALACES — NIGHT AND 
 
 STORM — OMENS — LEWIS XII — CASSANDRA FIDELIO. 
 
 There is a Botanic Garden at Venice, rising 
 from the midst of the sea, quite a little treasure in 
 this land, where trees and flowers might otherwise 
 be almost thought a fable. It is well laid out, with 
 charming walks and bowers, full of pomegranates 
 and roses, where the voices of the nightingale and 
 thrush welcomed us as we climbed a pretty mount, 
 thickly covered with flowering shrubs, and paused 
 at the top to look over the waste of waters — 
 
 " Where Venice sits in state, throned on her hundred isles." 
 
 Just behind the garden a huge heap of earth and 
 considerable confusion proclaimed that this was the 
 spot from whence the great viaduct of the railway 
 began. The works were in progress, and in a short 
 time, no doubt, the hissing, rattling engine will rush 
 along with its rapid wings close to the quiet pome- 
 granate grove, now so tranquil and retired. 
 
852 THB LAST EVENING IN VENICE. 
 
 The gardener of the establishment, however, did 
 not regret the circumstance : he appeared to hv 
 rather utilitarian than arcadian in his notions, and 
 looked forward to the increase of commerce, which 
 he hoped would bring more patronage to his beautiful 
 garden, which, strange to say, the Venetians neglect, 
 although unique in their neighbourhood, preferring 
 the evening promenade on the Piazza San Marco, 
 and to sip their coffee or eat their ice to the music of 
 a band, instead of to the song of birds and in the 
 shade of trees, and preferring the smell of cigars to 
 the perfume of the rose garden ! 
 
 The last evening I spent in Venice it seemed as if 
 the good spirit that had presided over the weather 
 and presented the beautiful city in its very best 
 possible aspect during my sta}^ had resolved, by a 
 capo d'opera, to impress my mind so fully with its 
 excelling charms, that no envious cavilling, no 
 critical contradiction, no experience of misfortune on 
 the spot, should at any future period have power to 
 obliterate the memory of one of the most enchanting 
 scenes which nature and art combined could ever 
 offer to the eye and the mind. 
 
 I had lingered long beneath the arcades of the 
 Piazza — had looked again and again on the carved 
 and gilded pillars of the palace and the church, and 
 the sun was just setting when I once more entered 
 the gondola, which lay amongst a crowd of others 
 belonging to the gay promenaders on the square of 
 the Campanile, in order to row about as long as pos- 
 
THE AVE MARIA. 353 
 
 sible in the Giudecca, and observe the effects of sky 
 and sea, always splendid at this hour. 
 
 I had been told of an occurrence which took place 
 every evening at eight o'clock, and intended, precisel}' 
 at that hour, that the gondola should lie on its oars 
 at a certain spot in order that I might witness it. 
 The story I had heard, which had caused my desire 
 to do so, was as follows : 
 
 One evening in winter, when the wind was high 
 and dark clouds flitted gloomily over the surface of 
 the lurid sky, a young man, with a baker's basket 
 on his shoulder, was returning across the Piazza 
 San Marco from the Merceria towards the quay 
 where his boat was moored, about to return to the 
 Isola di Mazorbo where he lived, and where his 
 young wife, to whom he had only been married a 
 few weeks, was expecting him anxiously, as she 
 observed the lowering aspect of the heavens, and 
 feared that his little voyage across the Lagune w^ould 
 prove dangerous, or at least unpleasant. Andrea 
 thought of her too, and quickened his steps as he 
 passed the Porta della Carta, when a deep groan 
 fell upon his ear, and startled him from his musings 
 on the happy home which he hoped so soon to 
 reach. 
 
 He paused a moment, and again the groan was 
 repeated, as if it proceeded from some person in 
 great agony : it was beginning to be very dark,, 
 and he could scarcely distinguish any object clearly,; 
 but beneath one of the arches of the church of St. 
 
 2 A 
 
354 ANDREA THE BAKER OF MAZORBO. 
 
 Mark, he thought he perceived something lying on- 
 the pavement : he approached, and stooped dowa 
 to convince himself, when a flash of vivid lightning 
 shewed him plainly the body of a man prone on 
 the pavement, in whose body the glittering hilt of 
 a dagger was visible. He uttered an exclamation 
 of horror as he knelt down and endeavoured to 
 raise the injured person, he placed his hand on the 
 dagger, and drew it from the wound, and was yet 
 hanging over the body with the weapon in the air, 
 when he felt his arm arrested : flashes of light 
 glowed on the marble pillars round, and in an 
 instant he was surrounded by a party of police, 
 whose torches shewed the scene in all its horror. 
 
 There lay a murdered cavalier, whose last groan 
 Andrea had heard, and covered with his blood and 
 still holding the dagger reeking with the crimson 
 tide, knelt the unfortunate young man, who was 
 not for a single instant believed to be other than 
 his assassin. 
 
 At that time, for several centuries have passed 
 since the event which tradition records, justice was 
 summary in her proceedings. Few questions were 
 asked, — no answer, no appeal, no protestations were 
 deemed worthy to be placed in opposition to the 
 glaring facts before the judges, and on the very spot 
 where he was supposed to have committed the 
 murder, the ill-fated Andrea was condemned to 
 expiate his crime. 
 
 There is a projecting pipe, which runs out between 
 
THE FUNERAL AT THE CAMALDOLESI CONVENT. 355 
 
 the carved pinnacles of the church, and to that a cord 
 was immediately fastened, the supposed culprit was 
 attached to the fatal noose, was swung in the air, and 
 exactly as the great clock of the palace tolled the hour 
 of eight and the bells of Saint Mark rung forth the 
 Ave Maria, the body of the unfortunate Andrea 
 was seen hanging from the height, and the pitying 
 angels, who hovered above the scene, were bearing 
 his soul to a place of bliss. 
 
 There was a death in the Isola di Mazorbo a short 
 time afterwards, and a funeral boat bore the body 
 of a young woman, once the beauty of the island, 
 to the convent church of the Camaldolesi, in Mu- 
 rano, where, beneath the cloisters, a grave was 
 made, and a stone placed, and a sum of money paid 
 by the officiating priest to the convent. That sum 
 had been sent anonymously to the good ecclesiastic, 
 immediately on the death of the young wife of 
 Andrea, the baker of Mazorbo, with a charge that 
 it should pay for the expenses of her burial, and 
 for a mass to be said for the soul of herself and her 
 husband. 
 
 Many years passed away, when the priest of San 
 Michele was summoned to a death- bed : the penitent 
 was a man of distinction in Venice, who had for- 
 merly borne a character for dissipation, by no 
 means uncommon to his class, but since the death 
 of an only brother, of whom he was the heir, 
 and who was no other than the murdered cavalier 
 for whose assassination Andrea had suffered, he 
 
 2 a2 
 
35G THE CANDLE. 
 
 had changed Ins course of life, and had been looked 
 upon as a 
 
 " wiser and a better man.** 
 
 The revelations, however, that he made on his death- 
 bed, were such as to convince the magistrates of 
 Venice that a little more inquiry would have done 
 them greater credit than the summary justice to 
 which they had devoted the unfortunate and inno- 
 cent Andrea. The brother avowed himself the 
 murderer, and directed that, in the hope of its 
 proving some expiation for his crime, the memory 
 of the accused should be cleared, and his fame re- 
 established, and that, in perpetuity, a mass should 
 be said for the soul of Andrea, and a candle lighted 
 outside St. Mark, on the very spot where he was 
 executed, every night as the bell tolled eight, and 
 the service of the Ave Maria was announced. For 
 this he left ample funds, and the remainder of his 
 wealth he dedicated to the church for the benefit of 
 his own soul, the welfare of which he entrusted to 
 the prayers of the holy fraternity who were to 
 benefit by his donations. 
 
 The sun went down brilliantly, the heat was great, 
 but there was every now and then a refreshing 
 breeze, which cooled the air, as we rowed back- 
 wards and forwards along the Giudecca, surrounded 
 by all those fairy objects which make this place a 
 scene of wonders. The gorgeous churches of San 
 Giorgio and il Redentore, rose as if at once out of 
 
SUNSET IN THE GIUDECCA, 357 
 
 the deep green transparent waters ; and the ZiteUi, a 
 school for young girls, presented its line of building 
 glowing in the golden light. The lead covered domes 
 of the church of la Salute, were touched on the 
 other hand, with a pale blue lurid light, for the 
 reflection of a thunder cloud was over them ; every 
 part of this magnificent building was clearly defined 
 against the mass of dark clouds which formed the 
 background, and so singular was the effect produced 
 by the lights and shades, that it seemed as if a sheet 
 of snow had fallen and rested on the roof of shining 
 silver which pierced the air : every marble pillar, 
 and every step of the long flight before the church, 
 came brightly out as they dipped into the sea at 
 their feet. Beyond this, towards the Palazzo Nuevo, 
 the sky was all rich orange and yellow and rose 
 colour, the last soft tint being reflected over the wide 
 Lagune to the buildings opposite, and dwelling on 
 the red towers of the Islands : every sail shone crim- 
 son in the ruddy glow, or caught the blue phosphoric 
 tint, which divided the hues of the atmosphere. 
 
 Towards the Piazzetta, where the golden yellow 
 ended, and a soft pale green sunk into the still bright 
 blue, day's reign seemed lingering to the last ; here 
 the lion of St. Mark, and St. Theodore, each on their 
 exalted pillars, were defined sharply, and the Doge's 
 palace lifted up its lace-work parapets, shewing tlie 
 fragile embroidery which has outlasted ages, and all 
 the glories of the merchant monarchs of time-con- 
 quered Venice. A rainbow rose over all, spanning 
 
358 THE HOUR OF AVE MARIA. 
 
 the Giudecca from side to side, now brighter, now 
 paler, and tinging every object with its colours. 
 
 As we lay gazing on the unequalled beauty of 
 this scene, new to me, but common to those who | 
 are fortunate enough to spend much of their time ! 
 amidst these waters, a few large heavy drops began 
 to fall splashing in the sea, a hollow growl rose from 
 the distance, and we rowed briskly towards the quay 
 of St. Mark, for the hour of Ave Maria was ap- I 
 proaching. 
 
 Scarcely had we neared the Mola when a violent 
 gust of wind came sweeping over the Lagune, the 
 waves rose high, the thunder's voice made itself 
 heard, and every symptom of a storm was apparent. 
 Still we lingered, for in a few minutes I thought we 
 could not fail to see the accustomed wax light, borne 
 by two priests to the pinnacle above the statue of the 
 Virgin on the outside of the church, in memory of 
 poor Andrea, but the wind became more and more 
 violent, the hour of Ave Maria passed and no light 
 appeared: the gusty evening had prevented the 
 usual ceremony, and the mass was performed inside. 
 
 There was little time to stop for regrets, as it be- 
 came obvious that the Giudecca was no longer a 
 safe place to linger in, and we retired from the shore 
 and took our way along the Canal' Grande, where 
 we were more sheltered, and on our way to our 
 Leone Bianco. 
 
 Notwithstanding the threatening aspect of the 
 sky, the rain did not descend, and the wind lulled a 
 
\ 
 
 YOUNG VENICE. 359 
 
 little ; we met a crowd of gondolas hurrying towards 
 the Piazza, the fashionable place of evening rendez- 
 vous : ladies and cavaliers sat within their dark re- 
 treatS) full dressed and gay, regardless of the storm 
 which might overtake them. A beautiful boat 
 darted past us, rowed by two young men, in violet 
 ¥elvet jackets and white trousers, the best gondo- 
 Jieri on the canal, whose graceful movements con- 
 trasted with the less elegant air of the common boat- 
 men : these, we found, were a son of the Podesta 
 and one of his friends, the lively representatives of 
 young Venice, The Podesta himself more sedately 
 throned in his gondola, with sober but handsome 
 liveried boatmen succeeded : the Duchess de Berri 
 and her sposo, with rowers dressed in green, next 
 glided by, just as we passed the hotel which she 
 shares with the Vandremini. 
 
 The palaces, on each side of the Canal' Grande, 
 looked grand and imposing in the uncertain light, 
 occasionally brought forcibly out by flashes of vivid 
 lightning, which played along their fretted parapets, 
 or glanced against their ranges of marble pillars. 
 A golden light was over the whole face of the Fos- 
 cari palace, as we turned the circling corner of the 
 canal ; Mocenigo glowed with the red fire, and 
 seemed to shiver as the lightning flashed across its 
 rows of windows. The white walls of the Academia, 
 and the ambitious figure of Fame or Venice throned 
 on a lion, before it, looked imposing and grand, 
 rising from the dark waters, with the cold sombre 
 
3(>0 THE PALACES. 
 
 line of buildings by its side, the remains of the an- 
 cient convent della Carita. 
 
 Not far off, at the corner of a small canal which 
 leads to the theatre del Fenice, I observed a half 
 finished palazzo, the court of which was encumbered 
 with heaps of marble ; on inquiring what it was, 
 and to whom belonging, I was informed that it was 
 the property of a rich Jew who had suddenly ap- 
 peared in Venice, having acquired a fortune no one 
 could tell how, but before his palace was half finished 
 he had gone off, the works had been stopped and 
 nothing more was known of him. 
 
 The fairy fabric of the Ca' d'Oro, in all its ruined 
 beauty, shone down upon the waters as we hurried 
 by, and the opposite palazzo of Mr, Brown, one of 
 the handsomest on the Canal, was blazing with 
 lights from its Palladian casements. 
 
 The Ca' d*Oro will soon rival all others in its re- 
 novated beauties, but, shadow-like as it now is, and 
 by such a light as that by which I beheld it, no- 
 thing seemed wanting, either to that or to the Fos- 
 €ari. 
 
 We were not led away by exultation at our usual 
 good fortune, so much as Machiavelli accused Venice 
 of being 
 
 " Credendosi haver sempre il vento in poppa,*' 
 and were not sorry when we landed at the steps of 
 the hotel, ushered in by a peal of thunder able to 
 destroy all the palaces along the shore. Vi^e were 
 scarcely housed before tlie violence which had been 
 
NIGHT AND STORM. 361 
 
 withheld till night, broke forth, and for several hours 
 all was uproar and confusion in the sea-built city, 
 and a new scene of awful beauty took the place of 
 those she shewed by day. 
 
 Night and storm at Venice give rise to many re- 
 flections on her fallen state, and all her history rises 
 to the memory. Now sh6 is all glory and wealth, 
 now threatened, now triumphant, now conquered, 
 now crushed, now a mere shadow and a name of 
 beauty. 
 
 A modern writer has observed : 
 
 " A succession of events which, whether fatal or 
 fortuitous, are by the vulgar looked upon as the 
 certain forerunners of calamity, happened to Venice 
 at this moment. (1208, just before Louis Xllth's 
 invasion.) 
 
 " The castle of Brescia was blown up ; a galley 
 which had on board 10,000 ducats destined for the 
 relief of Ravenna was lost at sea ; the depository of 
 the public archives at Venice suddenly fell down : 
 but the crowning misfortune was the destruction of 
 the arsenal there, which was fired, either by accident 
 or treachery."* 
 
 Louis lost no time in fulfilling his part of the 
 unjust treaty to which he had pledged himself, and 
 entered Italy at the head of the Hite of his cavalry, 
 20,000 men, as many Swiss mercenaries, and a strong 
 body of French infantry. Some of the greatest 
 heroes in France were in this army. Marshals 
 * James Bacon's Life and Times of Francis I. 1830. 
 
362 
 
 LOUIS THE TWELFTH. 
 
 Trivulzio and Chaumont — Longueville — Charles of 
 Bourbon — Gaston de Foix, then a boy — d'Aubigny, 
 the renowned Scotchman — Robert della Mark, after- 
 wards Marechal de Fleu ranges — la Palice the brave 
 — and the Clievalier Bayard. 
 
 When Louis XII. was preparing to attempt 
 the conquest of Venice, etcited to the undertaking 
 by the crafty foe of the Republic, Julius II., the 
 Venetian ambassador, Condolmier, in a conversation 
 with the King, remonstrated with him, not only 
 on the injustice of his contemplated proceedings, but 
 their injudiciousness. " The Republic," said he, 
 "has great resources, and it is a perilous enterprise 
 to attack a power governed by so many wise per- 
 sonages." 
 
 "Monsieur I'Ambassadeur," replied Louis, "all 
 you tell me is perfectly true, but I shall oppose so 
 many fools to your wise men that they will find it 
 extremely difficult to manage them. Our fools are 
 folks who strike right and left, and will not hear 
 reason when they have once begun." 
 
 At this time devoted Venice was menaced on all 
 hands. Julius demanded restitution of the church 
 lands in Romagna, which the Republic had ob- 
 tained by the expulsion of Caesar Borgia, and which 
 comprised the cities of Ravenna, Cervia, Faenza, and 
 Rimini : Louis laid claim to the rich district on the 
 left of the Adda, Brescia, Crema, Bergamo, and 
 Cremona. - Maximilian resolved to attempt the 
 acquisitix)D of Padua, Verona, Vicenza, and Friuli ; 
 
CASSANDRA 1^'IDELIS. 363 
 
 and Ferdinand of Spain resolved to attack the Nea- 
 politan sea-ports which were pledged to Venice for 
 a loan. At a meeting at Cambray in 1508 all these 
 claims were discussed, and the fate of Venice resolved. 
 
 Venice has not been wanting in female learning 
 amongst its other distinctions, to render it illustrious. 
 The name of Cassandra Fidelis was once of great 
 celebrity in the north of Italy, and added lustre to 
 her native city. Her family was originally of Milan 
 but had removed to Venice ; every member was 
 remarkable for literary attainment of no ordinary 
 kind, and the fair Cassandra, at a very early age, 
 became the theme of universal admiration from her 
 erudition and accomplishments. She applied herself 
 with so much diligence to study, that she acquired 
 such a knowledge of the learned languages as to 
 deserve her reputation of one of the first scholars of 
 the age. Many were the visits she received from 
 sages far and near, and amongst them arrived from 
 Florence, Politiano, the celebrated friend of Lorenzo 
 the Mao-nificent; it was in 1491 that this distin- 
 guished personage came to do her homage, and was 
 so enchanted with her appearance, manners, and 
 profound learning, that the heart of the philosopher 
 appears in some danger. *'*She is, indeed," he 
 writes to his patron, " a surprising woman, as well 
 from her acquirements in her own tongue as in the 
 Latin, and in my opinion she may be called hand- 
 some. I left her, astonished at her talents." 
 
 This remarkable woman lived to complete a cen- 
 
364 CECCA. 
 
 tury, a rare occurrence in a literary life, particularly 
 that of a woman of great mind. 
 
 Cassandra was not alone in her fame, nor in the 
 admiration felt for female knowledge by the tutor of 
 the great Lorenzo's sons. He had before admired 
 Alessandra, daughter of Bartolomeo della Scala, whose 
 singular beauty was only equalled by her extraor- 
 dinary endowments. She was a proficient in Latin 
 and Greek, and had studied under the most eminent 
 scholars of the time, to one of whom, Marcello, she 
 gave her hand, much to the discomfiture of 
 Politiano, 
 
 Another lady of Sienna, called Cecca, was called 
 by the same gallant admirer of genius, the tenth muse, 
 a title afterwards so often bestowed on mediocrity 
 that it now carries with it little weight. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 ADIEU TO VENICE — THE VIADUCT — THE PAIR — OMNIBUS HERO— 
 
 THE ENCOUNTER— PONTE MOLINO CITADELLA — FLOURISHING 
 
 COUNTRY — BASSANO — WALLS AND TOWERS — BEPPO — EZZELINO 
 — BELLA VISTA— CAN OVA — VAL SUGANO — CAVALO — DESCENT 
 TO TRENT — THE COUNCIL — THE BISHOP — MENDOZA THE POET — 
 THE RETIREMENT — FEVER AT TRENT — SANTA MARIA MAGGIORE 
 — THE DOM — SANTA PAULINA — TYROLESE COSTUME — PALAZZO 
 G0LLA3. 
 
 The morning arrived when I was obliged to bid 
 adieu to Venice, and infinite was my regret as I 
 stepped into the black gondola — in general we 
 had one with a striped awning, during our stay — 
 which was to take us to the custom-house and rail- 
 road. 
 
 Amidst many apparently friendly adieux from 
 our guides and hosts, the chief of whom were 
 Lord Byron's black and white friends, we left the 
 hotel stairs, and passed beneath the Rialto. Palace 
 after palace were saluted by me with regret as they 
 faded from my view, but, at the Foscari, we paused 
 and landed, as we found it possible to see the ruined 
 shell on which workmen are now employed pre- 
 paring it for the restorations which will soon be 
 begun. For many years a host of poor families have 
 lived in these fine chambers, which have been di- 
 
'i()tJ ADIEU TO VENICE. 
 
 vided and subdivided into small spaces, destroying* 
 their symmetry, and making them mere dens of 
 poverty and dirt. All is now free, the partitions are 
 taken down, and the original size and shape can he 
 seen. 
 
 They are not very large, nor are there suites of 
 rooms, as in most Italian palaces, forming vistas ; 
 the building is more in an English style, irregular 
 but convenient. The staircases are steep and dark, 
 but the lower halls are spacious and grand, and the 
 square court without is extensive and walled, with a 
 fretted parapet of graceful pattern running all round 
 the top. The entrance is to this court from a side 
 canal, but the front of the palace, with all its an- 
 tique Moorish windows and trefoil pierced loggie, is 
 towards the Canal* Grande, and is magnificent even 
 in its extreme decay. 
 
 Instead of waiting at the railroad station we rowed' 
 about the Lagune till the last moment arrived, and 
 approached as near as possible to the viaduct, passing 
 under some of the fine arches, which were completed, 
 and admiring the beauty of the construction. The 
 morning was lovely, and distant Venice, with all 
 her churches, lay touched with the goldeii light, 
 looking like a fairy city of the sun, just offered to 
 view to be caught up again into its native skies, like 
 the fabled gardens of Al Aden, visited by the fortunate 
 camel seeker, but beheld by the presumptuous 
 monarch of the winding sands for a moment only. 
 
 The envious railway soon carried me far froni the 
 
THE PAIR. 367 
 
 most interesting city in Europe, and we went flying 
 on, past festooned groves and corn fields, back to 
 learned and sombre Padua, which wears a more than 
 usually severe aspect when entered after a visit to its 
 romantic neighbour — the Venus who casts Minerva 
 into shade. 
 
 Some of our party in the railway omnibus, which 
 waits to carry passengers from the station for about 
 a mile, were, however, by no means grave characters. 
 We had before observed a pair, whose circum- 
 stances could not be doubted : they were evidently 
 newly married and on a tour. Both were excessively 
 fine, the gentleman's waistcoat glowing like a colibri's 
 wing, studded with gold, and hung with chains ; the 
 lady's appointments all fresh and new, and of the 
 last fashion. Both were young and handsome, and 
 both anxious to appear amiable in each other's eyes, 
 though an occasional yawn on the gentleman's part, 
 and a sleepy languor on the lady's, announced plainly 
 that they considered the necessity of travelling and 
 seeing every thing a labour in which they did not 
 altogether delight. It was soon apparent that they 
 w^ere English by the resolute manner in which they 
 declined conversation, and the contemptuous glances 
 which they cast on all around, disdaining assistance, 
 and bent upon not being imposed on. The conse- 
 quence of this line of conduct was that they allowed 
 themselves to be set down at the first shabby hotel 
 we paused at in Padua. I felt some pity, and a 
 quixotic desire to tell them they would find better 
 
368 OMNIBUS HEno. 
 
 accommodation where we were going, but the 
 hostihty of their manner awed me into silence, and 
 I saw them consigned to their fate, unable to avert 
 it. 
 
 I was amused at the appearance of the conductor 
 of the omnibus who was strenuously attentive in hig 
 calling. He was a tall slight young man, and wore a 
 blouse over a smart jacket ; his collar was open and 
 thrown back h la Byron ; his thick shining black 
 hair hung in bunches of natural ringlets on each side 
 of his face, being parted and braided in front; a 
 small red velvet cap, with a gold tassel, was placed 
 on one side of his head, and a carnation was stuck 
 behind his ear. Altogether he was the beau ideal 
 of an omnibus hero, and it was clear that he was 
 perfectly aware of the sensation he created in the 
 breasts of the smiling damsels who greeted him as 
 he passed, gracefully waving his hand, and occasion- 
 ally kissing it, as we rumbled through the long 
 gloomy arcaded streets of Padova la Dotta, where 
 we slept that night, or rather endeavoured to do so 
 in spite of the clamorous greetings of the bells of San 
 Antonio. 
 
 Early the next day we began our journey towards 
 Trent, as our destination was the Tyrol, but had 
 nearly been arrested at our first step : for as we 
 drove out of the great square into one of the long 
 streets which seem interminable, we were en- 
 countered by a cab, the driver of which, though 
 there was plenty of room, and he must have seen us 
 
THE ENCOUNTER. 369 
 
 coming at some distance, continued his headlong 
 way till he came directly upon us, and, as our 
 vehicle happened to be the largest, his frail machine 
 was in an instant almost dashed to pieces. Instead 
 of the usual vociferations which, both in England 
 and France, would have accompanied such an event, 
 the crowd collected stood by quite unmoved, except 
 that a few smiles were exchanged ; our postillion sat 
 on his horse impassive till the wheels of the two car- 
 riages were unlocked by those whom it most con- 
 cerned. The delinquent did not attempt to justify his 
 stupidity, nor was he reproached by his neighbours, 
 and when he had disengaged himself, and we had 
 ascertained that no one was hurt, we continued our 
 route as quietly as if nothing had occurred, leaving 
 him and his dSbris in the middle of the street. 
 
 Padua struck me as before, as one of the most 
 remarkable cities I had ever seen : it possesses 
 considerable grandeur in its buildings, and there is 
 an occasional resemblance, to a certain extent, to 
 Venice, as, for instance, in a piazza where towers a 
 mast, and a fine pillar supported on a pedestal of 
 crouching lions. 
 
 The Palazzo della Ragione looked veneraJDle and 
 fine, with its rows of pointed windows, and open 
 Gothic arches, and its enormous roof, rising like the 
 back of some huge antediluvian monster, unshape- 
 able and mysterious. On the Ponte Molino, in 
 a recess in the centre stands a richly decorated 
 statue of the Virgin, and one similar keeps guard 
 2 B 
 
370 PONTE MOLINO—CITTADELLA. 
 
 at the city gates. I observed a fine antique church 
 richly carved with three large figures in niches on 
 the walls, but I could not ascertain to which of the 
 saints it was dedicated, or whether it was there that 
 the magician of Padua, Pietro d'Abano, lies buried. 
 It would take a long time to become acquainted 
 with all the churches and institutions of Padua, and 
 if I had not had attractions elsewhere which pre- 
 vented my affording the time, I should have lingered 
 longer with much satisfaction in the dim strange 
 old town, which, even yet, is full of the memories of 
 by gone days. 
 
 Having crossed the Brenta, by a moving bridge, 
 we continued our route along a straight road, 
 bordered by corn fields and mulberry plantations, 
 with uninterrupted lines of festooned vines depending 
 from tree to tree in the most graceful negligence, 
 till we arrived at Cittadella, a fine spacious clean 
 town, with great remains of its former grandeur, 
 still existing in the immense round towers and 
 battlemented walls, which appear to defend the 
 entrance on every side. All the inhabitants, their dark 
 hair adorned with pomegranate blossoms, seemed 
 congregated in the streets, where in front of the 
 houses which are doubtless dark and inconvenient, 
 groups were sitting working or playing at cards. 
 Piles of fruit and flowers attested the luxuriance of 
 the country's productions, and the general aspect 
 of this stoutly defended fortress-city, was that of 
 ease and wealth. The moat, over which we drove. 
 
FLOURISHING COUNTRY. 371 
 
 as We quitted Cittadella, is profound, and the high 
 powerful, ornamented and sharply cut machicolated 
 walls, give an effect of strength and solidity quite 
 imposing. 
 
 We drove on, in the hright sun, amidst a chorus 
 of grasshoppers, so loud, that the air rung with their 
 cheerful revelling harvest songs for several miles, 
 where the newly cut corn invited them to sport and 
 chirp away their summer lives. The costume of 
 the peasant girls is here very pretty, and gives a 
 foretaste of Switzerland in the wide white sleeves, 
 and large straw hats. Most of the women have 
 bare feet, and all the men wear red caps with smart 
 dangling black tassels placed upon their long 
 ringlets. 
 
 We passed numerous country houses, all hand- 
 somely built, and the grounds neatly and well laid 
 out, with no lack of good gates and strong walls, 
 over which the rich treasures of luxuriant gar- 
 dens appeared in great beauty, throwing their 
 perfume far and wide. Every village has a hand- 
 some new church, and prosperity is every where 
 evident, though there is little more of the picturesque 
 to be seen, than if the traveller were in the neigh- 
 bourhood of a flourishing English town. 
 
 The distant mountains of the Tyrol will not, 
 however, be hid, and rise blue and bright in the 
 distance, promising much beauty to come, when the 
 plain country shall be passed. 
 
 Bassano is a good country town, full of churches, 
 2 B 2 
 
372 bASSANO. 
 
 some of which are interesting. 1 was anxious to 
 know if tliere was any spot supposed to be the birth- 
 place of the great painter, Giacomo da Ponte, called 
 Bassano, here, and immediately inquired ; an intelli- 
 gent boy named Beppo, undertook to guide me to the 
 house, but when we arrived at our destination, I 
 found he had led me to the Duomo of St. Stephen, 
 where some of Bassano's paintings decorated the 
 altars. I thought Beppo*s idea very good, for such 
 a house was more worthy to represent the great 
 master's birth-place than any other. Probably he 
 was born in some hovel near the bridge, as his name 
 indicates. To the bridge I accordingly proceeded, 
 which is a fine covered wooden one, thrown over 
 the Brenta. The position of this bridge is magni- 
 ficent : the river runs foaming and flowing rapidly 
 along, sometimes causing fearful devastations by its 
 inundations, and on every side the scenery is wild 
 and grand in the extreme. 
 
 Above the walls of the town rises a huge ruined 
 citadel of great strength, so imposing, and so 
 striking, that it instantly arrests the attention, as it 
 stands frowning on a height over the turbulent 
 river, and commanding the country for many leagues 
 round. Tower after tower, and long interrupted 
 lines of walls are mixed in with the antique roofs 
 of the town, which the rushing Brenta protects or 
 desolates at its pleasure. The high hills crowd 
 round, like huge guards w^aiting the commands of 
 some tyrant chief to send forth an armed ambush, 
 
I 
 
 EZZELINO— BELLA VISTA. 373 
 
 and pour down ruin on the region on which they 
 may direct their wrath, 
 
 I asked the name of this proud and evil- looking 
 castle, to which Beppo replied, "E il castello di 
 Ezzelino." 
 
 I almost started at that terrible name, which called 
 up memories of rapine, murder, and destruction. 
 Here then the tyrant of Northern Italy resided, and 
 it was no other than he who could fill up with his 
 real crimes, the fancied picture I had been sketching 
 of a feudal lord who harassed the neighbouring 
 states. 
 
 I lost no time in mounting the height where the 
 castle stands, under the auspices of Beppo, and soon 
 entered the library of the Archbishop, which is in 
 the great tower, and is fitted up with all sorts of 
 modern comfort and conveniences. 
 
 From the window a splendid view is obtained, 
 and nothing can be more singular than the contrast 
 between the aspect of the dark threatening building 
 when seen below from the bridge and when entered 
 above. 
 
 Beppo entreated me to observe the bella vista, of 
 which every inhabitant of Bassano is justly proud, 
 and was equally delighted at my enjoyment of its 
 beauties, and my admiration of the charming domi- 
 cile of the " arci-prate deF commune" who seemed 
 to be as great a favourite with him as the tower itself, 
 and whose character, reported by him, formed as 
 great a contrast to that of the former occupant of 
 
374 VAL SUGANA — CAVALO. 
 
 the castle, as his charniiiig library with its large 
 and beautiful view must do to the dungeon and 
 torture chambers of the monster, whose punishment 
 Dante has recorded in terrible verse. 
 
 This appears the region of taste as well as of 
 cruelty, for close by lies Passagno the birth-place of 
 Canova, at the foot of the hills of Asolano. 
 
 Our next day's journey was through the splendid 
 district of Val Sugana, and the glorious pass of 
 Cavalo, the scene of the fearful struggles between 
 Napoleon and the Tyrolese in modern times, and 
 between the Austrians and Venetians of old. Views 
 of terrific grandeur and magnificence await the 
 traveller on this route, and though the continued 
 recurrence of the same scenery in succession becomes 
 at length rather wearying to the mind, it is hailed 
 at first with eager admiration. A roaring restless 
 torrent, thundering over rocks keeps up a ceaseless 
 turmoil ; now the road runs close beside it, now it 
 mounts high and higher until the way seems lost in 
 the clouds and amongst the pine- woods, but again 
 descends, winding and turning and rising and falling 
 league after league. 
 
 Pergine, with the remains of its commanding 
 castle, rises proudly amongst the stupendous scenery 
 which it dominates, and Trent lies in its wide flat 
 valley, at the foot of encircling mountains, with the 
 turbulent Adige flowing past its embattled walls. 
 
 The descent to Trent is very fine, and the aspect 
 of this first great town I had reached in the Tyrol 
 
DESCENT TO TRENT. 375^ 
 
 impressed me extremely. Issuing from crowding 
 and overhanging rocks, we proceeded on our down- 
 ward road for two hours, winding round a mag- 
 nificent mountain, which, in many places appeared 
 perpendicular, passing through stony villages, where 
 the narrow streets seemed almost closed against our 
 progress, and at every turn coming upon fresh ob- 
 jects of surprising grandeur, till at length we reached 
 the lou est level, and entered the curious old town of 
 Trent, so important in history from the events con- 
 nected with its famous Council, which called the 
 attention of all Christendom to its decisions, and 
 swayed the fate of so many nations. 
 
 The city of Trent and its cathedral presented a 
 somewhat more bustling aspect in December, 1 545, 
 than when we walked through its deserted streets 
 and entered the lonely aisles of its great church. 
 
 Then the important meeting took place of all the 
 legates, archbishops, bishops, divines, monks, and 
 ambassadors, whose object was to preserve the 
 Roman Catholic faith from the innovations of 
 Luther, and to reform any abuses which might 
 have crept into the holy pale. 
 
 In the church of the Trinity the grand assembly 
 met, and went thence in procession to the Cathedral, 
 the choir singing the hymn " Veni Creator." When 
 all were seated the Cardinal De Monte performed 
 the mass of the Holy Ghost, at the end of which he 
 announced, as if especially to brave the opinions of 
 the Protestant Reformers whose first demonstrations 
 
376 THE COUNCIL. 
 
 of disgust had been caused by a similar proceeding, 
 a bull of indulgences issued by the Pope, promising 
 a full pardon of sin to all who in the week immedi- 
 ately after the publication of the bull in their respec- 
 tive places of abode, should fast on Wednesday and 
 Friday, receive the sacrament on Sunday, and join 
 in processions and supplications for a blessing on 
 the Council. 
 
 After some ceremonies besides, a decree was passed, 
 declaring that the sacred and general Council of 
 Trent was then begun for the praise and glory of 
 the holy and undivided Trinity, the increase and 
 exaltation of true religion, the extirpation of heresy, t 
 the peace and union of the church, the reformation 
 of the clergy and Christian people, and the destruc- 
 tion of the enemies of the Christian name. 
 
 The Bishop of Bitonto, who addressed the meet- 
 ing, did not omit to invoke the assistance of the pa- 
 tron saint of the valley of Trent, Saint VirgiHus, to 
 bless the undertaking. 
 
 Great was the eloquence of this Bishop of Bitonto, 
 who was considered one of the greatest preachers of 
 his age. His name was Cornelio Musso; even 
 before his birth he was dedicated by his mother to 
 the service of St. Francis, and he willingly per- 
 formed her vow by devoting himself to the order. 
 His memory was so extraordinary that by once 
 hearing a sermon he could retain it and re-deliver 
 it in a manner which might make it pass for his 
 own, imitating equally well the gestures and manner 
 
THE BISHOP. 377 
 
 of the preacher to whom he was indebted. He had 
 great natural eloquence also, and could make ora- 
 tions extempore in a surprising manner. 
 
 When he was first sent to Venice to preach during 
 Lent, so little and insignificant did he appear when 
 he mounted the pulpit, that the assembled senators 
 were disagreeably impressed against him, and it 
 required some time* before they were reconciled to 
 attend to him. His voice, however, which was so 
 magnificent that it could fill the largest church, 
 soon arrested them, and his extraordinary powers 
 soon made them forget their prejudice. 
 
 He has been compared to the nightingale, whose 
 small frame gives no promise of its splendid notes. 
 
 One perhaps of the most remarkable personages, 
 his character of poet considered, who figured at 
 this famous Council was the Spanish Ambassador to 
 Venice, Don Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, who is 
 considered the third of the classical poets of Spain. 
 To his brilliant poetical genius he joined the reputa- 
 tion of one of the greatest politicians and generals 
 who distinguished the brilliant epoch of Charles 
 the Fifth's reign. His severity was, however, equal 
 to his talents, and his bitter enmity to liberty has 
 much dimmed the lustre of his name. He was 
 learned in the Hebrew, Arabic and Greek tongues, 
 a great collector .of eastern manuscripts, and a de- 
 voted admirer of literature. His eloquence was 
 remarkable, and the speech he made at the Council 
 of Trent in the interest of his master the Emperor 
 
378 MENDOZA THE POET. 
 
 is said to have excited the admiration of all 
 Christendom. 
 
 Yet, strange to say, this severe and learned per- 
 sonage is more known to the world by an extrava- 
 gantly comic work, which has been translated into 
 most European languages, than by any other of his 
 remarkable acts. He is the author of Memoirs of 
 that celebrated rogue, Lazarillo de Tormes, the first 
 of his class who has been immortalized by genius. 
 
 Mendoza made himself unfortunately conspicuous 
 as a lover, a part as little in unison with his sena- 
 torial position as that of being the historian of a cheat. 
 While ambassador at Rome, he excited the ven- 
 geance of a rival, by his gallantries : a contention 
 took place between them, and the minister-poet, to 
 avoid the dagger of his opponent, threw him over a 
 balcony into the street. Mendoza, for this undigni- 
 fied proceeding, was committed to prison, where he 
 amused his loneliness by composing Redondilhas to 
 his mistress's eye-brow ! 
 
 He was banished to his native city Grenada, where 
 he wrote an account of the Moorish Revolt in the 
 Alpuxarra, a masterpiece of Spanish history. He 
 died at Valladolid, in 1575, and his valuable library 
 he left to the King of Spain. 
 
 The verses of Mendoza, are as unlike his public 
 character, as those of some of the persecuting trou- 
 badour enemies of the Albigenses, and it is somewhat 
 difficult to believe that the fiery and violent orator 
 at the Council of Trent, the tyrant of Sienna, and 
 
THE RETIREMENT. 379 
 
 the poet who could pour forth gentle humble strains, 
 like the following, are one and the same : except, 
 indeed, the last lines of the following poem should 
 betray his real character, 
 
 THE RETIREMENT.* 
 
 Another world is mine in thought, 
 
 Another place, another home. 
 Another time by fancy brought. 
 
 Where I may close the days to come. 
 
 A life all calm and passionless. 
 
 In that retreat shall be my own. 
 Where I my king may thank and bless, 
 
 And serve him for his love alone. 
 
 And if the means to live in peace, 
 
 His clemency to me extend, 
 I will rejoice, nor seek increase — 
 
 If not, content shall be my friend. 
 
 Softly shall glide each careless day, 
 
 My food I'll take at any hour. 
 My nights shall gently pass away. 
 
 And restless visions have no power. 
 
 In story then I'll lead again 
 
 Those hosts that in the East I led, 
 And bore the haughty flag of Spain 
 
 Midst fields of danger and of dread. 
 
 * Otro mundo es el mio, otro lugar, 
 Otro tiempo el que busco : &c. 
 
 See Sismondi, Span. Lit. 
 
380 FEVER AT TRENT. 
 
 Matrons and dames and damsels dear, 
 
 Shall listen to the record true, 
 And coward monks shall shake to hear 
 
 The glories that of old I knew. 
 
 If an ambassador should stray. 
 
 And in my cottage rest awhile, 
 His worthy deeds he will display, 
 
 Tell of his dangers and his toil 
 
 But none the secrets of his heart may share, 
 Altho' a dagger sought them hidden there. 
 
 The Council being held at Trent was exceedingly 
 unpopular at Rome. The Pope dreaded the diminu- 
 tion of his power, and his courtiers feared the loss of 
 their emoluments : the sturdiness of the Reformers' 
 zeal disconcerted them ; the pertinacity of the 
 Spaniards, and the dissension and opposition of the 
 different Catholic members alarmed them ; it was 
 much desired that the Council should be transferred 
 to some place within the Papal dominions, and a 
 ruse was resorted to to frighten the assembly away. 
 It was reported that a contagious fever had broken 
 out at Trent, and every one became so anxious for 
 his own safety, that in a short time the prelates and 
 legates fled from the meeting like so many frightened 
 hares. Some, however, kept their ground, and the 
 rest, for very shame, were obliged to return and re- 
 sume their important business, though the Council 
 was, for a time, transferred to Bologna. 
 
 It has been asserted that Trent is particularly 
 healthy, the air salubrious, and the weather always 
 temperate ; and frequently when a contagious 
 
SANTA MARIA MAGGIORE. 381 
 
 disease has been going through Germany, Trent has 
 remained free. Certain it is, that the fever talked of 
 at that time was of the most harmless nature, and 
 scarcely any deaths occurred in consequence : yet, 
 from its position, I cannot think Trent a place 
 altogether likely to be very healthy, for it lies in a 
 flat, and is surrounded by high hills which impede 
 the free circulation of air. 
 
 The church of Santa Maria Maggiore is built on 
 the site of the Council chamber, but there is no re- 
 mains of the ancient building, nor any object of in- 
 terest within the walls, except what may be derived 
 from a picture representing the celebrated assembly, 
 ill executed and dingy, and grudgingly shewn by 
 the sacristan, who appeared more greedy for his fee 
 than is usual with these personages, and more chary 
 of his time. 
 
 The Dom or Cathedral of Trent is singular rather 
 than fine, being unfinished and neglected. It is 
 built of marble, and the facade next the great square 
 presents some features of grandeur and even beauty. 
 Within it is lofty and solemn, having a fine high 
 altar, supported by immense pillars, and round the 
 church are various tombs, adorned with figures in 
 high relief, of a deep red marble, remarkable, but 
 by no means in a good style of art. In fact I was 
 much struck with the sudden contrast from the ex- 
 quisite and elaborate carving and adornment of the 
 ecclesiastical buildings in Italy. All here appeared 
 to me mean, coarse, and rough, and the character 
 
382 TRE|<T. 
 
 of every thing completely changed from refinement 
 to rude simplicity. Nevertheless, there is a good 
 deal of fine Tyrolean marble in the Dom, which 
 looks rich and ponderous. 
 
 Lying on the floor in some of the chapels are 
 bronze figures of knights and bishops, against which 
 the foot strikes in walking ; others are placed against 
 the walls, without grace or symmetry. Doubtless 
 these are but remnants of the gorgeous monuments 
 to which they belonged, but nothing can exceed the 
 bad taste with which they are arranged at present ; 
 and as the repairs in the Dom may now be considered 
 complete, there is no hope that any change for the 
 better will be accomplished. I ceased afterwards, 
 as I proceeded on my journey in the Tyrol, to feel 
 surprised or shocked at the questionable taste 
 displayed in the public buildings of this country, but 
 I could not cease to regret the grace and beauty of 
 all I had left beyond the mountains, where 
 " Even the failings lean to beauty* s side." 
 
 The town of Trent is dull and uninteresting in the 
 extreme, but there are walks in its neighbourhood 
 which possess many attractions. One pleasant, 
 warm evening I walked across a handsome wooden 
 bridge over the Adige, that charming river which 
 recalled memories of 
 
 "Eccelsa, gloriosa, alma Verona !'* 
 
 The mountains in front rise magnificently from the 
 valley, which is filled up by the extensive town, 
 
SANTA PAULINA. 383 
 
 and the new road which leads into them offers 
 beautiful views. 
 
 We passed on our way a very curious building, 
 partly castle, partly church, which was formerly one 
 of several strong-holds of the bishops in early times. 
 A huge, strange-looking tower stands on a level 
 with the river, and' is now a portion of the old 
 church of Santa Paulina. It was so crowded with 
 country people that we found it impossible to pene- 
 trate into the interior, which is, however, fitted up 
 merely for the service. At the door is a remarkable 
 tomb, on which are bas-relief carvings of Saint 
 Beato traversing a river on his cloak, which a 
 miracle has endowed with the properties of a good 
 boat ; angels are holding it up at the four corners, 
 and the saint seems to have managed his trajet 
 admirably. Huge frescoes cover the outside walls, 
 representing the giant St. Christopher crossing the 
 river on foot, bearing on his shoulders the heavenly 
 infant whose cries had excited his compassion, and 
 through whose admonitions he forsook his former 
 unholy life after the aquatic feat. 
 
 As the Adige is much given to overflow its bounds 
 both here and elsewhere, there was, of course, at all 
 periods much occasion for the intervention of saints 
 and angels to rescue the country people from the 
 ravages of this uncontrollable torrent, which seldom 
 allows a year to pass without displaying its fatal 
 powers of destruction, throughout the whole of its 
 headlong course. 
 
384 TYROLEAN COSTUME. 
 
 Along the new road to the mountains above Santa 
 Paulina, it appears to be the mode of tlie tlile of 
 Trent to take their evening Sunday promenade, and 
 I was much amused at the splendid dresses of the 
 lionnef, and the singularity of that of the lions of 
 the Tyrol. The fashions of Vienna, overtopping 
 those of the Paris model, seem outdone at Trent 
 in the amplitude of the petticoats of the ladies, and 
 the brilliancy of the colours they wear : the gentle- 
 men encourage a great growth of hair, and allow 
 enormous curls to protrude on each side of the head, 
 or thick ringlets to hang low down the back. Some 
 prefer their tresses being puffed out like full bot- 
 tomed wigs, but none wear short or straight hair. 
 
 The first of the handsome Tyrol peasant costumes 
 I saw pleased my eye extremely. A beautiful rich 
 lilac is in favour for the adornment of the nether 
 man, a green waistcoat is worn over a scarlet one, 
 and a dark jacket is faced with red : the short 
 stockings do not reach to the bare knees, and the 
 high crowned green beaver hat is always bound 
 with gold cord, and has tassels depending, and 
 generally a flower stuck in the band. 
 
 Nothing can be more theatrical and pretty than 
 the men's dress, and the women's is occasionally so, 
 though neither the round beaver, nor the high 
 crowned hat can ever be becoming. It is singular 
 to see in the Tyrol, so far removed from the Welsh 
 mountains, the same head-dress worn by the women 
 as at the foot of Cader Idris and Snowdon, but as 
 
PALAZZO GOLLAS. 385 
 
 there is infinitely less beauty of feature here than 
 in Wales, the ugliness of the costume is even more 
 apparent. 
 
 We strolled about the town, and entered the large 
 court yard of what had once been one of many 
 fine palaces ; this was the Palazzo Gollas, and must 
 have been splendid . in its day. The view of the 
 mountains and river from the parapet wall of the 
 court is splendid. 
 
 There are several other palaces, now of little con- 
 sequence, but preserving much remains of former 
 beautiful architecture. 
 
 2 c 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 CLOUDS AND ANGELS — BOTZEN — GERMAN DINNERS — VALLEY OF 
 THE EI9ACK — KLAUSEN — BRIXEN — THE WAGGON — HOFER — 
 PEASANTS — ARCADIA — WOLFENSTEIN — SPBECHENSTEIN AND 
 REIFENSTEIN— miner's TOWN — MAGPIE PRIEST —BRENNER — 
 OBEISS — STEINACH-THE RIVALS- HOUSE DECORATION— NEW 
 ROAD. 
 
 At early morning, after a boisterous, rainy night, 
 we quitted Trent to proceed on our way towards 
 Innspruck. The air was cool and fresh, and the sun 
 fitful ; every where the waters were out, submerging 
 the meadows, and deluging the roads. 
 
 Delicate, white, fleecy clouds travelled amongst 
 the mountain peaks, throwing garlands over their 
 stern brows. These wreaths of clouds are exqui- 
 sitely graceful in a hilly region, adorning the rugged 
 scene, and softening the asperities. One expects in 
 watching them to see pretty winged heads peep up 
 from behind their soft curtains, like those groups 
 which the immortal masters are fond of introducing 
 into their pictures. We met droves of fine large 
 strong cattle of a rich brown colour, strikingly 
 contrasted with the exquisite silver grey and pink 
 white of the same animals in Lombardy, which are 
 peculiarly delicate in their forms, and small in their 
 stature. 
 
 The torrent Avisio foams and swells beneath 
 piles of rocks, and the picturesque castle of Salurn 
 
BOTZEN. 387 
 
 Oil a pinnacle stands boldly forth, defying all 
 attacks ; though now a mere shell, it was once a 
 most important post, and commanded the passage 
 up the Adige. 
 
 Branching out from the valley of the Adige run 
 numerous thals, all possessing beauties and attrac- 
 tions to the explorer, and after passing Neumarkt 
 and its fine neighbouring church of St. Florian, 
 seated amidst vines and willow avenues, the lime- 
 stone rocks end, and the region of the porphyry 
 mountains begins, introducing the traveller to the 
 beautiful but unhealthy valley of the Eisack, a 
 torrent river, which shares with all its neighbours 
 the character for turbulence and mischief for which 
 they are celebrated. 
 
 We rested for a time at Botzen or Bolzano, as it 
 is sometimes called ; for some remains yet linger of 
 the musical language which I regretted to find was 
 fading away by degrees as I advanced towards 
 Germany. Language and person alike degenerate 
 here ; the fine Italian head, and flashing dark eye, 
 are replaced by broad features and grey eyes, and 
 though simple good humour takes the place of 
 grace and beauty, the loss of the latter cannot but 
 be sensibly felt, as every step carries the admirer 
 away from the fascinating country of his preference. 
 The table d'hote at Botzen introduced me to 
 preserved cherries and beef, and many incongruous 
 dishes, as uneatable as unpronounceable. The 
 immeasurable period taken for dinner was really 
 2 c 2 
 
388 
 
 GERMAN DINNERS. 
 
 appalling, and I began to think we should not leave 
 Botzen all day, if we persisted in awaiting some 
 viands with which we could be satisfied. 
 
 Long before our German companions had reached 
 through half their meal we were compelled to give 
 up the trial, and betook ourselves to the usual task 
 of sight-seeing, abandoning them to their serious 
 occupation, of which they did not seem likely soon 
 to tire. 
 
 Alas ! at Botzen it appeared that I must take 
 leave of the mellifluous sounds which had so pleased 
 my ear, and when I listened to the guttural sput- 
 tering around me, I was startled by a suddenly- 
 awakened fear that, perhaps, to an Italian ear, our 
 own bold English might have no softer sound. 
 Since poetical beauty and power depend on thought 
 and not on language, the English and Germans are 
 safe, but it must be confessed that the vehicle in 
 which their fine imaginings are conveyed is woefully 
 inferior in melody to that which gave utterance to 
 the mind-musings of Dante and Petrarch. 
 
 There is little to detain the traveller in the town 
 of Bolzano, which is for ever threatened with 
 destruction by a tyrant mountain torrent, whose 
 devastations are sometimes frightful. The tower of 
 the Gothic Dom looks well as it rises in the valley 
 of the Eisack, pointing 
 
 "its taper spire to Heaven;'* » 
 
 and beautiful are the well-trained vines on the road 
 leading to the barren hills. 
 
 i 
 
VALLEY OF THE EISACK. 389 
 
 Hour after hour we continued mounting, and 
 descending stupendous heights, from whence rose, 
 higher still, strange-pointed rocks, piercing the 
 skies, the horns of dolomite mountains. Sometimes 
 huge masses peered over all, capped with snow, and 
 shining in the gleaming sun. The rocks of porphyry 
 for which the valley of the Eisack is renowned, rise 
 purple and ruddy, bathed by the numerous con- 
 tending torrents tributary to the old Eisack, that 
 foam, and chafe, and roar, and send up their clouds 
 of spray like fairy wreaths amongst the gigantic 
 masses that impede their way. Here the colour of 
 the waters reminded me of the beautiful aquama- 
 rine tint peculiar to the Pyrenees, but no where does 
 that lovely hue reach such perfection as amongst 
 the pine- covered heights of Beam. 
 
 Every now and then we crossed these turbulent 
 streams by covered wooden bridges of stupendous 
 strength, built so solidly that they appeared to defy 
 the power and malice of the mischievous water 
 spirits who are never weary of destroying the works 
 of man as well as those of nature. 
 
 In the midst of all this turmoil and barrenness 
 occasional patches appear of vines, so luxuriant and 
 beautiful that a new country seemed to rise around, as 
 
 *' Along our path fresh garlands 
 Were hung from tree to tree.'* 
 
 After a wild gloomy pass, where the dark threat- 
 enino: rocks offered a formidable barrier to our ad- 
 vance, the valley would suddenly spread forth, 
 
390 KLAUSEN. 
 
 lisclosiiig some j)eaceful hamlet sleeping amongst 
 rich trees, with pretty cottages and comfortable 
 houses with pointed tourelles and balconies filled 
 with flowers. 
 
 We were several times accosted by begging 
 students, who paused and asked assistance as they 
 plodded on their way in scattered bands, in search 
 of learning, which, perhaps, they expected to find 
 in Padua or at Trent. 
 
 Some grim ruin looks down on the traveller from 
 every commanding position : the walls of the castle 
 of Deutschen extend far along the heights, and that 
 above Klausen stands with threatening aspect me- 
 nacing the whole valley. I was struck, and not 
 very agreeably, with the taste prevalent in the Tyrol 
 villages, of painting the church spires of a bright 
 red ; this, with the shining coloured tiles of the 
 houses and their roofs edged with tin, has a most 
 extraordinary effect, certainly not either elegant or 
 graceful. Nothing can exceed the cleanliness of 
 the houses and streets, and as I looked upon them I 
 regretted that in beautiful Italy neatness forms no 
 part of the inexpressible charm which lurks about 
 her scenes. 
 
 Klausen is a picture of cleanliness and trim 
 adornment; every house has a balcony, and most 
 of them have small high tourelles running up at the 
 corners, with little pointed and grated windows. 
 The principal street is very narrow, and there 
 appears scarcely Toom to pass between the buildings : 
 
BRIXEN. 391 
 
 this construction, doubtless, belonged to the times 
 of warfare, when it was prudent to afford as few 
 facilities as possible for the passage of invaders. 
 
 On a precipice above the town stands a convent, 
 on the site, as is supposed, of a temple of Isis ; a 
 tragical tale is told of a nun who cast herself from 
 this rock on the occasion of the French invasion. 
 The spot is grand and fine in the extreme. 
 
 The valley here is rich and fertile and the growth 
 of the trees luxuriant, and, as we drove out of the 
 fine old gateway of Klausen, the scene before us 
 was animated and charming. 
 
 Murray, who is almost always correct and inva- 
 ribly useful, describes the inn at Brixen as **^ear 
 and uncivil." Whether the fear of his animadver- 
 sions, which has in many places produced a salu- 
 tary effect, has operated here I know not, but the 
 * Elephant' now deserves only his first comment of 
 " clean and good," to which a traveller may safely 
 add ** cheap and very attentive." 
 
 This is a town full of nunneries, amongst them 
 one for English ladies, but neither church or con- 
 vents are worthy to detain any one long. A ruined 
 castle on a height and a remarkably imposing monas- 
 tery, which has all the effect of a castle, are without 
 the town, and just where two valleys unite, and 
 their rushing torrents hurry on to fall into the 
 Eisack, rises a huge strong and extensive modern 
 fortress, called Franzensfeste, erected by the Aus- 
 trian government, in this very important pass. Its 
 
392 VALLEY OF THE EISACK. 
 
 granite walls are bristling with cannon, and it had 
 a formidable aspect as we passed close beneath it, 
 which no enemy would ever be able to do, so com- 
 pletely does it block up every entrance to the valley. 
 Everywhere large crucifixes raise their gigantic 
 forms by the road side, they are rudely and gaudily 
 painted, and frequently have three figures, Christ 
 and the two thieves, presenting an effect extremely 
 disagreeable. 
 
 The morning we left Brixen was fresh and cold, 
 with a bright cheerful sun, which threw its gleams 
 between the red stems of the numerous fir-trees, 
 and shone on the silver bark of the groups of grace- 
 ful birch, by which the road was adorned. We 
 entered a gloomy gorge, through which the angry 
 Eisack still kept its way, green and foamy, and in 
 furious mood : the bed is large and filled with rocks, 
 and fearful must be its course in the black days of 
 rainy winter, and in early spring, when the melted 
 snows swell its tide. 
 
 The houses in the valley here assume a Swiss 
 character, having timber roofs kept on by large 
 stones. 
 
 Our driver, who seemed more stupid and blun- 
 dering than most of his countrymen, who are by no 
 means brilliant at any time, although the road was 
 wide enough for several carriages, contrived, just as 
 we were turning a corner of rock, to run foul of a 
 huge thatched waggon with eight horses, neatly 
 laden with some precious merchandise, and v/e had 
 
HOFER AND HIS TYROLEANS. 393 
 
 nearly paid a visit to the exulting nymphs of the 
 expectant Eisack, so rudely did we approach the mon- 
 strous vehicle, whose bristling straw sides crushed 
 and crunched against us, bending every projection, 
 and nearly twisting ofTone of our front lamps. We, 
 however, escaped with the fright, and following the 
 gorge, which was one of the scenes of those dreadful 
 contentions between the illustrious heroes of the Ty- 
 rol, and their invading foes, we reached Mittewald, 
 a curious pine built village, where pine torches are 
 used for ordinary lights, in the most primitive 
 fashion. 
 
 The gorge here becomes very narrow, the rocks 
 fearfully perpendicular, and all around proves how 
 fatal must have been the fire of the Tyrolese when 
 directed against their enemies below, as they took 
 their unerring aim from every natural parapet and 
 loop hole, and headed by the undaunted Capuchin 
 Harpinger, swept the French and Saxons from their 
 native valley. 
 
 * " So comes the Po in flood time. 
 Upon the Celtic plain : 
 So comes the squall, blacker than night. 
 Upon the Adrian main. 
 
 So flies the spray of Adria, 
 
 When the black squall doth blow ; 
 
 So corn-sheaves in the flood time. 
 Spin down the whirling Po." 
 
 * Macaulay. 
 
394 PEASANTS — ARCADIA. 
 
 Here, where the gallant Hofer and his brave com- 
 panion Spechbacher overwhelmed their foes, — here 
 where the river*s snowy foam was stained with crim- 
 son, now flourishes in the utmost luxuriance the wild 
 rose, whose red and white starry blossoms are shed 
 over the earth and the rocks where blood was shed 
 for freedom by peasants whom necessity made war- 
 riors. Here the hedges were full of fragrant elder- 
 flowers and gentle aspens shivered along the banks 
 of the Rio verde. The contrast of wild and peace- 
 ful is here most remarkable ; on one hand mighty 
 rocks barren and gloomy, on the other rich fields of 
 corn in the open vale, flowers and fruit trees, mixed 
 with grey-roofed cottages and scarlet-roofed cruci- 
 fixes. 
 
 All around is neatness and order, and here 1 first 
 observed how gracefully the people of the Tyrol 
 ornament their fields by enclosures of stakes, woven 
 with wattles, in the most fantastic patterns, con- 
 tinually varying. They were mowing in the valley, 
 and the bright costume of the peasants had the most 
 Arcadian effect. The girls in their gay bodices, 
 white full sleeves, and black mittens, the men in 
 pointed hats adorned with roses and many-coloured 
 vests, as if prepared for a ballet ; the scene around 
 forming the very perfection of pastoral beauty : ver- 
 dure and foliage in the foreground and snowy moun- 
 tains in the distance. 
 
 At a turn in the winding road I observed, below 
 but standing on a high projecting rock and com- 
 
WOLFENSTEIN. 395 
 
 mandiiig the passage of the river, a fine shell of a 
 castle, peculiarly striking and picturesque. This is 
 the castle of Wolfenstein, once the key of the pass 
 in old times. It has a much more interesting effect 
 than most of these feudal remains in the Tyrol, for 
 they are generally disfigured with modern roofs, 
 and are filled in with common-place buildings, and 
 are used as the residence of some oflficial, or put to 
 some purpose which destroys their character. Their 
 position alone recommends them to the eye of taste, 
 but Wolfenstein is a mere ivy-covered ruin, seated 
 on a bold rock, and is as grand and mysterious as 
 heart can wish. The Eisack here runs calmly on 
 its winding way, at the foot of the rugged height 
 which it crowns, and mountains, whose summits 
 clothed with dark pines are lost in the clouds, hem 
 it in on all sides. 
 
 At Mauls, which is not far distant, the Sterzinger 
 Moos, an extensive morass, begins, and for several 
 leagues covers the hollow bottom of a valley : here, 
 in a dreary spot above, is placed a small chapel, 
 raised in honour of the repulse given by the Tyrolese 
 to the French, under Joubert in 1797, and in the 
 gorge entered just beyond, struggles for life and 
 death deformed the face of nature. Huge masses 
 of rock were hurled from the mountains on the heads 
 of the invaders, and many of these doubtless still 
 lie in the grim defile as trophies, but time has covered 
 them with moss and flowers, and they will tell no 
 tales now. 
 
396 SPRECHENSTEIN AND REIFENSTEIN. 
 
 Two menacing castles, one a ruin, the other fitted 
 up as a residence, stand on opposite sides of the road, 
 which winds on between gigantic mountains, towards 
 the Brenner pass. Here are Sprechenstein, and 
 Reifenstein, and formidable opponents must they 
 once have been to a hostile traveller. 
 
 Sterzing is an old town, in which as much as 
 possible of the tawdry taste in which the Tyrol 
 abounds seems exhibited. The inhabitants are all 
 rich, and the long chief street was built by those 
 who had gained considerable wealth in the neigh- 
 bouring mines, during the time pf the working so 
 long ago as the fifteenth century : the forms of the 
 buildings are curious, they have pointed arcades 
 and projecting windows, so detached as to look like 
 little towers, heavy balconies adorn the fronts, and 
 these, seen all down the street one above another 
 along the irregular fronts, have a most singular as- 
 pect. Every window is often filled with flowers 
 from the top of the house to the bottom, and very 
 gay and pretty they look, but the painter has been 
 imsparingly at work here : all the church-steeples are 
 red and green, every house front is rose colour and 
 yellow picked out with some glaring tint or other : 
 frescoes of strange shapes and dazzling brightness 
 cover the walls, and daubing reigns triumphant. 
 
 I never saw anything so ugly and glaring as this 
 miner's town, where the importance of wealth without 
 judgment is clearly developed. 
 
 We were now proceeding to the Brenner pass, 
 
BRENNER. 397 
 
 and continued ascending through forests of small 
 pines, along a wild and fine height for several hours : 
 frequent cataracts come rushing down from the 
 highest points, and fall with thundering noise into 
 the torrent beneath. , Chapels with dome-shaped 
 roofs, glittering with brass and tin, and flaming with 
 red paint, rise up amongst the thick trees, and oc- 
 casional neat villages occur throughout the route. 
 
 We met a party of pedestrians on their journey, 
 in whose company was a priest, who wore a black 
 robe, over a sort of white dressing gown, adorned 
 with cord and tassels : his magpie costume had a 
 most bizarre effect, and he seemed to be aware that 
 he cut a strange figure, for he laughed consciously 
 as we gazed at him. 
 
 At the summit of the pass, is the village of 
 Brenner, lying amongst furious cataracts, which 
 threaten to tear away the rocks, which have for ages 
 submitted to their raging efforts unmoved. The 
 post house is a sort of den, with many caves, the 
 massive and singular architecture of which, im- 
 pressed me with the idea of its having formed part 
 of a convent in days of old, but I afterwards saw 
 many inns constructed in the same dismal and extra- 
 ordinary manner, and therefore suppose it is simply 
 the taste of the country. 
 
 You enter a low door- way, and find yourself in a 
 long, dark, low vaulted passage of great length, 
 out of which numerous rooms open, which are large 
 and gloomy. A tower staircase, perfectly d^rk, 
 
3i)8 QREISS. 
 
 conducts to an upper floor, where a similar diiu 
 dismal passage offers the same character, and the 
 whole dwelling is altogether as uninviting as possible, 
 suggesting the thought of robbers and midnight 
 attacks. 
 
 The mill turned by a beautiful cascade close to 
 the post house, is a charming object, and the little 
 church of Brenner is particularly picturesque, with its 
 graceful circular windows three and three together. 
 
 After this we began to descend slowly, and reached 
 the singularly pretty village of Greiss, painted rose- 
 colour and apple green, houses and church, posts and 
 rails, but so delicately clean and neat that it was 
 impossible to quarrel with the good people whose 
 passion for paint carries them such extraordinary 
 lengths. All round this village hay-making was 
 going on, and the fields were brilliant with flowers 
 of every hue, as if Nature herself had been seduced 
 to follow the favourite Tyrolean custom of colouring 
 everything with the brightest tints. 
 
 At Steinach we paused for an hour or two, and 
 endeavoured to discover at which hotel Hofer had 
 slept on the eve of the battle of Berg Isel. At the 
 post house where we stopped the landlady assured 
 me that we were in the very chamber once occupied 
 by the Tyrolean hero, and produced little pictures 
 in metal representing him at full length, which 
 travellers never fail to carry off". But the rival inn, 
 the Steinbock, claims the honour of having sheltered 
 the saviour of his country ; and when we visited its 
 
HOUSE DECORATION. 399 
 
 owner, were so circumstantially assured by an elo- 
 quent young man, who spoke very good Italian, that 
 his father knew the hero well, and that, on that very 
 spot did he lodge, that it was impossible to believe 
 any asseverations uttered in German by our indignant 
 hostess. We left the Neri and Bianchi to settle the 
 ever-recurring quarrel, and bought a picture of Hofer 
 of each, quite satisfied that, having seen both rooms, 
 sat in both chairs, and leaned on both tables, we 
 could not have missed the true relics. 
 
 Although the eyes of my mind and body were 
 alike disgusted at the display of tawdry daubing 
 plaistered on every house in Steinach, 1 found myself 
 obhged to be as silent as I could in my regrets for the 
 many-hued marbles of Italy, which, filling those 
 gorgeous churches to the roof, make every dome a 
 blaze of rainbow light, for I discovered my distaste to 
 paint was by no means shared by others, nor did I fail 
 to find often more enthusiasm expressed for the rudely 
 imitated architecture designed on the walls of the 
 houses in the Tyrol than for the real glories which 
 the same travellers had passed coldly by at Milan, 
 Verona, or Venice. 
 
 Certain it is, that the enormous wooden houses, 
 covered with shapes and forms of things which are 
 intended to look imposing, are very extraordinary, 
 and have a kind of merit from their ingenuity. The 
 fault is in visiting Italy before the Tyrol, as it is dif- 
 ficult to be even amused with bad imitations after 
 exquisite originals. 
 
400 NEW ROAD. 
 
 In the Tyrol nothing is carved or cut— all is 
 painted. Corinthian pillars, friezes, capitals, medal- 
 lions, string courses, are all in semblance, and every 
 coloured marble is imitated in the most ambitious 
 manner. A house exactly opposite our chamber at 
 the post was one of the most elaborate specimens of 
 this ingenious absurdity, and the details of its adorn- 
 ments appeared to have no end. 
 
 This seems to be no new fashion, although the 
 towns are all, at this time, freshly renewed by their 
 wealthy inhabitants, for on some obscure old houses, 
 in bye-streets, gorgons of every colour are to be seen. 
 Hofer and his companions frown grimly in green 
 and scarlet on the walls, and all perspective is 
 outraged from the top floor to the bottom. 
 
 The descent of the Brenner is very long, gradual, 
 and extremely fine: it is the lowest pass over the 
 main chain of the Alps, and vegetation is no where 
 checked by the snows, which only rest on the 
 highest peaks, and do not come near the carriage road, 
 which has been repaired very lately, and a readier 
 way made over numerous ravines of stupendous 
 depth, which are now spanned by solid bridges of 
 masonry of immense strength. It is extraordinary 
 to find oneself hovering over these precipices with 
 such perfect security : high and firm parapets pro- 
 tecting the road on each side, which now avoids all 
 angles and goes straight on, disdaining to turn aside 
 for any impediment. Workmen were still busily em- 
 ployed in the extensive works, and the state of that 
 
BERG ISEL. 401 
 
 part of the road which their labours had not reached 
 proved the necessity of such active reform : not less 
 than five hundred men are daily employed in hewing 
 the rocks, and constructing the defences of this 
 magnificent pass, which, 'being so easy, is likely to 
 supersede those higher, and more dangerous, leading 
 into Italy. 
 
 We at length came in sight of Berg Isel, where 
 the memory of the patriot Hofer is enshrined, and 
 far beneath, filling up a wide valley, but closely 
 hemmed in with tow^ering mountains, capped with 
 snow, lay shining in the sun the singular and 
 splendid-looking city of Innspruck. 
 
 2 D 
 
CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 INN8PKUCK — SPACE — PINK AND YELLOW CHURCHES — THE NEU- 
 STADT — THE GOLDEN SUN — CONTRAST TO ITALY — SIROCCO — 
 OLD TOWN — PUBLIC WALK— GOOD PEOPLE — KINDNESS — THE 
 NIGHTINGALE — THE GOOD NEIGHBOUR^-THE BIRD OF INN- 
 SPRUCK— ANCIENT AND MODERN LOVERS — PHILIPPIN A — TOMB 
 OP MAXIMILIAN— BRONZE CROWD — SILVER CHAPEL— TOMB 
 OF HOFER AND THE TYROLESE HEROES — GOLDENE DACH. 
 
 Nothing can be more imposing than the first view 
 of this imperial town, renowned by the name of 
 Maximilian the Great, that eccentric hero of many 
 fights, whose wonderful monument attracts all 
 Europe to these walls. 
 
 Space is the general characteristic of the city ; the 
 view takes in an extensive range of lofty buildings, 
 of size capable of accommodating the giants of the 
 Neibelungenlied, some of whom are said to have 
 founded the abbey which rises above the buildings 
 in Wilten, at the foot of Berg Isel. 
 
 So wide apart seem the streets, so scattered 
 appears the town, that one would rather fancy a 
 city of Baths was approached than the capital of 
 the Tyrol. Every thing about Innspruck is 
 gigantic, and it is easy to imagine the effect which 
 must have been produced by the loyal compliment 
 on one occasion paid to the Emperor, of writing his 
 
PINK AND YELLOW CHURCHES. 403 
 
 name in bonfires on the moimlains whicli surround 
 the town. 
 
 The broad and full river Inn runs past the city, 
 and is crossed by a fine wooden bridge : solemn and 
 grand it rushes and foams along, murmuring and 
 chafing as it meets the Sill, which arrives from the 
 snowy heights of Tyrol to its encounter. 
 
 As we wound round and round the mountain 
 road, which was bringing us nearer to Innspruck, 
 the aspect of its gigantic churches struck me with 
 amazement. There was little to admire but their 
 extreme vastness, their high towers and round 
 domes rising in stupendous proportions : but I 
 could scarcely believe that I was not deceived by 
 the sun, when I observed that these great masses 
 of building were all painted of a delicate pink, and 
 a pale yellow. As we passed them close, I found 
 that it was too true, and I no longer wondered at 
 the bad taste of the mountaineers in every village 
 through which I had passed, as the capital sets such 
 an example. The architecture is as faulty as the 
 decoration : and on a near approach, all is am- 
 bitious and tawdry, flaring, glaring, and distressing 
 to the sight. 
 
 We entered the city, from a long painted suburb, 
 as clean, as wide, and as formal as possible, beneath 
 an enormous triumphal arch, chiefly remarkable 
 for its great size, and the profusion of its decora- 
 tions : it has, however, an imposing effect in spite 
 of its coarseness and want of grace. 
 
 2 D 2 
 
404 THE NEUSTaDT. 
 
 We drove into the Neiistadt, >vliich is immensely 
 wide and long, and closed by crowding mountains 
 fleckered with snow, which seem to dip into the 
 street. On each side of the way rise large houses 
 full of balconies, profusely decorated with stucco, 
 pillars and friezes, with wreaths, and scrolls, and 
 porticos, painted and fretted from top to bottom 
 in the most bewildering manner. About half way 
 down the street, in the centre, stands a high red 
 column, with little flaring gilt angels hovering 
 round, and clinging to it ; statues surround its base, 
 and the statue of a saint surmounts it. The capital 
 is profusely gilt, and the saint's head is encircled 
 by a golden glory. Two huge towers with flaming 
 red and gilded domes, rise up above the rest of the 
 buildings of the street, and the bright green sun- 
 blinds against the pink and yellow houses, complete 
 the tawdry efi*ect of the enormous whole. 
 
 The projecting sign of a golden sun dangled 
 before a very large hotel, and this we found was 
 to be our resting place during the period of our 
 stay at Innspruck. 
 
 My first impression was that what I beheld was 
 coarse and barbarous, and the contrast presented 
 to the interesting but slovenly towns of Italy, was 
 by no means pleasing to my mind. There all is 
 rich in poetry and art, all has to be sought for, and 
 when found, is hailed with enthusiasm : here all is 
 wealth and vulgar display, and all is on the surface. 
 It was necessary to tijink of Hofer and the patriot 
 
CONTRAST TO ITALY. 405 
 
 virtues, which have raised a peasant to the rank of 
 an Emperor, before I could feel in good humour with 
 the gigantic clumsiness of this pride of the Tyrol. 
 
 The heat was now intense, and the unclouded 
 sun cast down its burning rays on the broad 
 Neustadt, flaring on the gold and red pillars, and 
 on the coloured and shining church cupolas. It 
 was impossible to linger for a moment in the street, 
 so suffocating was the air, and so fierce the glowing 
 rays. It seemed as if Innspruck was a furnace 
 shut in by a belt of fiery hills, whose snows mocked 
 the sufferer. When the fury of day had subsided, 
 and the grey of evening came, I hoped for some 
 breeze from the mountains to refresh the pent up 
 air, but it came not ; the Sirocco's breath alone 
 sighed malignantly, the wide pavement scorched 
 the feet, and vile odours rose from the open gate- 
 ways, proclaiming the fact of the apparent cleanli- 
 ness, being, in some degree at least, deceptive. 
 
 I hastened to the antique part of the town, for our 
 quarter was all new, but found nothing that called 
 for admiration or interest in the low, murky, rudely 
 carved arcades and dark small shops beneath them. 
 These led, however, to the massive wooden bridge 
 over the Inn, and that once reached, nothing can 
 be more splendid than the sight which bursts upon 
 the eye, on either hand. Here runs the magnificent 
 river into whose waves the huge mountains dip their 
 feet : far away into the distance their purple sha- 
 dows melt in graceful lines and bold projections ; 
 
406 PUBLIC WALK. 
 
 and even the coarse buildings on the banks are in- 
 vested with a nide beauty suitable to the scene. 
 
 Beside the river extend meadows and gardens, 
 and here is a pretty public walk, where the fashion- 
 ables of Innspruck make repair every evening to 
 listen to the very fine J'ager band, and to sit 
 beneath trees at wooden tables, smoking and drink- 
 ing beer. 
 
 I was about to enter unceremoniously, when I 
 was stopped by a female guardian of this Paradise, 
 and requested to pay a few kreutzers, by virtue of 
 which I was admitted : but the fumes of beer and 
 tobacco so completely overpowered that of the 
 flowers in the pretty parterres, that I hurried from 
 the fashionable end towards the river's banks, where 
 the walks are well laid out. Far along the shore, 
 the fields and hills are dotted with white villas, the 
 residences of the rich inhabitants of Innspruck, and 
 I was told that several English families had long 
 been domiciliated there. 
 
 The excursions round the city and the neighbour- 
 ing country are said to be beautiful and highly 
 interesting ; though I cannot but fancy the scenery- 
 must be of rather a monotonous character, to judge 
 by the long journey I had just taken amongst these 
 mountains. 
 
 The fir-trees in this garden are remarkably large 
 and lofty ; I had not seen any so fine throughout 
 the Tyrol. 
 
 I shocked the civil woman who had taken my 
 
GOOD PEOPLE. 407 
 
 kreutzers, by quitting the garden before the music 
 was over, as she seemed to fear I had not had enough 
 for my money, but she comforted herself with a 
 soHloquised assurance that I should return presently, 
 forcing a ticket on me to facilitate the intention. 
 
 Honesty and good nature appear to me to take 
 the place of beauty and grace in this region, for 
 nothing can exceed the civil attention paid by all 
 ranks to strangers. I met with one remarkable 
 instance, which I think could scarcely occur 
 elsewhere. 
 
 A lady of our party was taken suddenly ill with 
 fever occasioned by the intense heat, and the evil 
 Sirocco which continued to blow ; she was obliged 
 to send for a medical man, who attended her with 
 great kindness, and whose comic attempts at English 
 and French might almost have cured a patient dis- 
 posed to be amused. At night, when, by means of 
 his prescriptions, she hoped to be able to enjoy 
 some sleep, scarcely had the continued bustle in the 
 street subsided, than the voice of a nightingale in a 
 cage on the opposite side of the way made itself 
 heard, at first softly and melodiously, and then, as 
 the stillness increased, loudly and clearly, till, find- 
 ing itself alone in its melody, and the hour sacred 
 to its song having arrived, it poured forth one unin- 
 terrupted strain of sweet shrill sounds till the star 
 of morning warned the unwearied minstrel that it 
 
 was time to give over. 
 
 As it was impossible to bear a window closed, in 
 
408 
 
 THE NIGHTINGALE. 
 
 consequence of the heat, these sounds entered every 
 avenue of our suite of rooms and re-echoed through 
 them, for the bird " who is all voice" seemed to 
 exert itself to the utmost for our behoof. To me it 
 was delightful, and I lay listening with the utmost 
 pleasure to these energetic warblings, falling asleep 
 and being waked again every five minutes, thinking 
 
 " the full choir of heaven was near." 
 Not so, however, with the invalid in the next cham- 
 ber: the melody was only noise in her ears, and 
 her feverish distress and impatience increased with 
 every note. She had no sleep that night, and was 
 in despair in the morning. 
 
 The next taight the same triumphant lays were 
 renewed, and, this time, I had no enjoyment in 
 them, knowing the effect they would produce on 
 my neighbour. 
 
 When the doctor appeared he was told of the 
 nightingale nuisance, and expressed much regret 
 that his patient should have been so much dis- 
 turbed. Nothing Was said, but when night again 
 came On, we expected to be still annoyed, and made 
 lip our minds to endure the melodious infliction as 
 we ' might. All; however, was silence : not a note 
 sounded throiighout the night ; but once I thought 
 I Tieard a faint, low, distant thrill, as if no chain or 
 dungeon could imprison that voice. 
 
 We found that a petition had been sent to our 
 opposite neighbour, stating the case, and, without a 
 moment's hesitation, the favourite had been carried 
 
THE BIRD OF INNSPRUCK. 409 
 
 away to another dwelling, at some distance, as there 
 was no other way of silencing the petted minstrel, 
 who could not be brought to comprehend the ne- 
 cessity of ceasing his hundred songs. 
 
 I could not help apostrophising the " hidden 
 voice," in spite of the annoyance its lays were to 
 others. 
 
 THE NIGHTINGALE OF INNSPRUCK. 
 
 Thou— a captive— can' st thou sing? 
 
 Can'st thou not forget the strain. 
 Warbled 'midst sweet scenes of spring. 
 
 Never to be thine again ? 
 
 Often in the silent night. 
 
 Waving boughs have heard thy lay. 
 Where the firefly's starry light 
 
 Make the banks of Gader gay. 
 
 Often where the silkworm throws 
 
 Fairy webs from tree to tree. 
 Thou hast, shrouded in the boughs, 
 
 Carol' d long and loud and free. 
 
 Often by the high cascade. 
 
 Where swift Eisack springs to life. 
 
 And the aspen's quivering shade 
 Trembles at the waters' strife : 
 
 And where soft Bolzano lies. 
 
 Shrined in rich pomegranate bowers, 
 Where the restless Adige hies, 
 
 Towards Verona's circling towers ; 
 
410 THE BIRD OF INNSPRUCK. 
 
 Where the porphyry mountains raise 
 
 Crimson peaks the pines above. 
 Thou hast sung those tender lays. 
 
 Saint Verena*s echoes love. 
 
 Thou hast sung amidst those isles» 
 
 Gems upon the azure sea, 
 Where the syren Venice smiles, 
 
 Fit abode for love and thee ! 
 
 Ofttimes where the oUve grey 
 
 Waves its faint leaves o'er the vine, 
 Lovers ask what minstrel's lay 
 
 Can compare with notes like thine ? 
 
 And beside the moonlit lake. 
 
 Where fair Como Hes in Hght, 
 Somariva's perfumed brake 
 
 Trembled to thy sighs all night. 
 
 But the moon looks sadly now. 
 
 While thy captive numbers fall. 
 O'er the Tyrol's rugged brow, 
 
 Startled at thy pensive call. 
 
 *Tis, as Hofer's spirit woke, — 
 
 He whose rifle freed the vales, 
 And in wailing accents spoke. 
 
 Telling old, remembered tales 
 
 Of the peasant hero's fate. 
 
 Brief success and ceaseless fame, — 
 England's succour, all too late ! — 
 
 France's vengeance,* and her shame. 
 
 * "At the end of 1810, Andrew Hofer retired, with all his 
 family, to a poor hut amongst the hills and amidst the deepest 
 snows, grieving for his country, but tranquil as to his own fate. 
 
ANCIENT AND MODERN LOVERS. 41 1 
 
 Sing no more ! — a mournful close 
 
 Rings in each shrill note to me, 
 Who have lost, for Innspruck's snows, 
 
 Como's lake — Venezia's sea! 
 
 The old romance of this part of the world of a 
 prince who married a citizen's daughter, is revived 
 in the present day. Duke John of Austria some 
 years since fell in love with a fair damsel of the Ty- 
 rol valleys, whose father had some farms, and was a 
 post-master: he married her, and has a son, now a fine 
 young man ; they live in a pretty country-house near 
 Innspruck, a secluded happy life free from ambition 
 or state. The prince is occasionally called to Court, 
 where his wife cannot be received, but he appears 
 
 Napoleon, however, thirsted for his blood. He was accordingly 
 sought after with the utmost diligence, till he was at last traced 
 to his secret retreat. The imperial soldiers knocked at his cottage 
 door on the 27th of January. Hofer opened it, and seeing the 
 surrounding force, said, simply, with unmoved composure, " I am 
 Andrew Hofer ! I am in the power of France ; do with me as you 
 will, but spare my wife and children ; they are innocent, and not 
 answerable for my actions." With these words he gave himself 
 up to the soldiers. . . . Conducted to Bolzano, his wife and 
 one son, yet in his boyhood, accompanied him — the last separation 
 was impending over them. The boy was left at Bolzano, the 
 mother was sent to Passeira to take charge of three other children 
 still in infancy, whose father, now a prisoner, was soon to suffer 
 death. 
 
 " Both in the German and Italian Tyrol, the afflicted populace 
 ran in crowds wherever Hofer passed in bonds, weeping, lament- 
 ing, and blessing him. At Mantua the balls of the French" 
 soldiers pierced his heart." — Botta's History of Italy. 
 
412 PHILIPPINA. 
 
 to have no regrets about the past. He is often seen 
 in Innspruck, in a little low open carriage, sitting by 
 the side of the driver : he is extremely beloved and 
 respected, and his presence is hailed in the city with 
 delight. The modern Philippina is not remarkable 
 for beauty, but very amiable. 
 
 Although Philippina Welser was said to be the 
 most beautiful woman of her time, there is nothing 
 in her tomb in the Cathedral to prove the assertion. 
 Her effigies lie on her monument, and represent a 
 very ordinary German face and figure : the story of 
 her fortunes is thus told. 
 
 She was the daughter of a citizen of Augsburg, 
 and her beauty and virtues captivated Ferdinand 
 the young Archduke, who made her his wife. The 
 Emperor Ferdinand his father, indignant at his 
 conduct, would not forgive his son, nor see the beau- 
 tiful cause of his weakness. They had been mar- 
 ried eight years when Philippina, resolved to gain 
 her point, contrived to introduce herself into the 
 presence of her awful father-in-law. The sight of 
 her beauty, her tears and eloquence so moved him 
 that he could no longer refuse his forgiveness : he 
 acknowledged her as his son's wife, and conferred 
 the title of Margrave on both her sons. 
 
 Such an example ought not to have been lost on 
 the present Emperor, since that of the imprudent 
 Archduke was so closely followed by Duke John, 
 apd since, it seems, that the post-master's daughter, 
 is as worthy of his clemency and her husband's 
 love. 
 
TOMB OF MAXIMILIAN. 413 
 
 The chief object of interest at Innspruck is the 
 tomb of Maximilian I., in the Hof Kirche. The Em- 
 peror is, after all the pains he took to erect it in his 
 life-time, not buried here, for it was not finished 
 when he died. 
 
 When I first entered the church my impression 
 was that a crowd of persons had assembled to look 
 at the tomb, but, on a near approach, I found that 
 I was singularly mistaken, for all the figures I had 
 taken for curious gazers, were knights and ladies in 
 bronze to the number of twenty-eight. There they 
 stand in rows on each side of the aisles, surrounding 
 the large sarcophagus in the centre of the church, 
 which is dedicated to the memory of Maximilian. 
 
 Every one of the colossal statues is admirably 
 cast : the robes of the ladies are richly embroidered 
 and elaborately decorated, presenting the most 
 curious and admirable costumes with the most ex^ 
 quisite correctness, the knights are incased in 
 elaborately carved and ornamented armour, covered 
 with patterns such as Cellini describes as used in 
 damascening : — 
 
 ** In Italy there is a variety of tastes, and we cut* 
 foliages in many different forms. The Lombards 
 make the most beautiful wreaths representing ivy 
 leaves, and others of the same sort, with agreeable 
 twinings highly pleasing to the eye." 
 
 I returned many times to this goodly company, 
 amongst whom I could never fancy I was alone, 
 although on one occasion I remained more than an 
 
414 BRONZE CROWD 
 
 hour by myself sketching the figure of Joanna of 
 Castile. There is something quite extraordinary in 
 being the only mortal of this wonderful crowd of 
 worthies, whose attitudes are so animated, that they 
 seem in truth to live and breathe around. Singular 
 is the society thus brought together, for it embraces 
 many ages. King Arthur of Britain stands bold 
 and grand, with Rudolph of Hapsburg, and the 
 renowned Dukes of Burgundy, Styriaand the Tyrol. 
 The kings of the Ostrogoths, of France and Spain, 
 are looking on, Leopolds, Alberts, Maximilians and 
 Fredericks are side by side, with haughty princesses 
 of Austria, Aragon and Portugal, and their swords 
 seem to clank and their robes to rustle in the crowd, 
 as they press forward to look upon the kneeling 
 Emperor who surmounts his marble tomb. 
 
 The tomb itself requires a lengthened period to 
 examine its wonderfully beautiful details : to read 
 the pictured history in its pannels, to follow the 
 minute events exhibited in its singular carvings. 
 There are four and twenty marble chapters in this 
 romance, and each is as elaborately dwelt on, as if 
 the pen of the author of the Grand Cyrus had been 
 employed on the occasion instead of the graver of 
 Collin of Mechlin. Some of these compartments 
 are of surprising truth and executed with extraordi- 
 nary grace. They represent important circumstances 
 in the life of Maximilian, such as his marriage with 
 the heiress of Burgundy,— the Capture of Arras, 
 — the battle with the Venetians at Calliano, —the 
 
SILVER CHAPEL. 415 
 
 marriage of Maximilian's sou with the daughter of 
 Ferdinand of Castile, — the re-establishment of the 
 Sforza at Milan, — the battle of Guinegatte, in which 
 our Henry VIII. figures, and many other scenes of 
 equal interest. 
 
 As the stranger is allowed to go quite close to the 
 tomb all the details are easily followed, and the 
 minutest inspection is rewarded, for nothing can be 
 more exquisite than the workmanship, or more 
 graceful than the designs of this remarkable 
 monument. 
 
 In the silver chapel are the tombs of the Arch- 
 duke Ferdinand and his Philippina, but neither of 
 them are particularly good ; there are, however, on 
 the former, some more bas-reliefs of Collin extremely 
 beautiful. In this chapel are some small, curious, and 
 well executed figures in bronze, of royal and noble 
 saints, amongst them Saint Richard of England. 
 
 After the Emperor's tomb, the most interesting 
 monument in the church is that of the hero Hofer. 
 His body was brought from Mantua, where the 
 liberty-loving French had shot the champion of his 
 country, and here a marble tomb rewarded his ex- 
 ertions in the great cause. Opposite is another, 
 raised to the memory of the Tyrolese who fell under 
 his banner. 
 
 The picture of Hofer, and his figure, carved in 
 horn and wood, and cast in metal, are to be found 
 in every shop in Innspruck. He is the WiUiam Tell 
 of the Tyrol, but as his heroic deeds are recent, there 
 
416 THE MUSEUM. 
 
 is less obscurity and uncertainty respecting them. 
 Unfortunately his appearance is clumsy and unintel- 
 lectual, and the native artists do not contrive to add 
 any grace to their representations of either the chief 
 or any of the other Tyrol heroes, all of whom are 
 coarse, common-looking peasants. The thought of 
 his virtues is therefore the most agreeable memento 
 which a stranger can carry away. 
 
 All the little ohjets carved in wood and chamois 
 horn, sold at the mean little shops at Innspruck are 
 paltry and worthless, and very inferior to those 
 fabricated in Switzerland. In the public museum, 
 where there is a collection of the works of native 
 artists, in various lines, I was surprised to see how 
 extremely rude the articles were which I had heard 
 vaunted. As for the pictures, nothing can be con- 
 ceived so bad — so utterly without promise, and in 
 such fearfully bad taste — copies as well as originals. 
 There is scarcely any thing in the museum affording 
 a moment's interest to any but the natives of the 
 Tyrol, who have probably never seen any wonders 
 beyond their mountains. Efforts however are being 
 made, apparently, to give the people opportunities of 
 improvement ; and in the course of a few years, no 
 doubt, a better taste will prevail, and knowledge will 
 follow. There is a University, established since 
 1826, and much money is devoted to the instruction 
 of students. 
 
 The palace is more like a penitentiary, and is en. 
 tirel}' unworthy of notice, nor is there much in the 
 
GOLDENE DaCH. 417 
 
 town to detain the antiquarian or lover of the pictur- 
 esque. One curious house still stands, and is always 
 kept up as a relic of the olden time, when Frederic 
 of the Empty Purse, to prove that he was ill named, 
 spent thirty thousand ducats in building this place 
 and covering the roof with gilt copper. A pro- 
 jecting window, with a shining roof, is conspicuous 
 in front of the Fiirstenburg, once the residence of the 
 Tyrolean Counts, and this is called the Goldene 
 Dach. 
 
 2 E 
 
CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 MAXIMILIAN THE EMPEROR — POCO DANARI — SIEGE OF MILAN 
 
 — THE POPE AND SAINT BORRI — JOHN FREDERICK THE 
 
 MAGNANIMOUS— COOLNESS— LUCAS CRANACH — NOBLE ARTIST 
 —RETURN— READY WIT. 
 
 Of all the singular princes of his house or 
 his time Maximilian the Emperor, whose memory 
 pervades every scene in the Tyrol, was the most 
 remarkable. He was an actor in all the notable 
 events of the period at which he lived. He was born 
 in 1459, and died in 1519, and throughout his life 
 was a conspicuous figure in the history of the age. 
 
 His first wife was Mary, the heiress of Burgundy, 
 who brought him immense possessions in France and 
 Flanders, which caused him constant contentions 
 with their sovereigns, all of whom, by turns, were 
 his friends and his enemies. His second wife, whom 
 he married at Innspruck with great pomp, was a 
 much inferior personage, whose large dower tempted 
 him, but whose connexion involved him in innu- 
 merable difficulties. She was the niece of the usurper 
 Ludovico il Moro of Milan, and in assisting her 
 family's claims Maximilian exposed himself to the 
 enmity of all Europe. The Turk and the Vene- 
 tian were equally his foes, and he attacked all, as his 
 humour, rather than his policy directed him ; shift- 
 ing his friends as he pleased : now on good ternfis 
 
MAXIMILIAN THE EMPEROR. 419 
 
 with Henry VIII. of England, and serving for pay 
 in his armies, now siding with his enemies for a 
 time ; now the ally, anon the opposer of France and 
 the Pope ; he bustled through the scene always iti 
 arms, and always in a state of turbulence, like his 
 native torrent streams. 
 
 The character of Maximilian was a singular mix- 
 ture of strength and weakness. He was daring and 
 adventurous, but neither cruel nor wicked — fond of 
 entering into turmoils, but wanting resolution to per- 
 severe in any career he had chosen. With little 
 principle and less stability, he was easily induced to 
 lend his aid to great designs, and frequently allowed 
 himself to become the dupe of persons more far- 
 seeing than his limited talents allowed him to be. 
 
 His love of money was excessive, and his extrava- 
 gance great. He was always needy, and always 
 open to bribery, and was nicknamed Massimiliano 
 poco danari. His successes or defeats were looked 
 upon with equal ridicule by his contemporaries, and 
 his want of dignity was remarkable in most of the 
 transactions of his life. Many curious anecdotes are 
 told of him, amongst others of his abandonment of 
 the siege of Milan. 
 
 After Milan had acknowledged the sway of 
 Francis the First, and was left by him under the 
 government of the Constable of Bourbon, a new 
 plot was conceived by the restless spirit of the Car- 
 dinal of Sion, a man of peace, but whose sole desire 
 seemed to be the fomenting of war, to restore, such 
 
 2 E 2 
 
420 SIEGE OF MILAN. 
 
 \*as tlie pretext, Francisco Sforza to his possessions. 
 The Emperor Maximilian, who appears at that 
 time, to have been always ready to undertake a 
 quarrel, and make himself a jest, accepted the invi- 
 tation sent him to assist in gaining Milan from 
 France. He collected his troops round him, and 
 engaged a numerous band of Swiss mercenaries, who 
 longed to wipe out the stain which had fallen on 
 them by the conquests of the King of France, and 
 sat down before Milan, which he believed would 
 prove an easy prey. 
 
 The hot-headed Emperor was loud in his denun- 
 ciations against the Milanese, and vowed that he 
 would raze the city to its foundations and sow its 
 site with salt, unless it was immediately yielded to 
 him. Meanwhile he expected supplies from the 
 King of England to pay the Swiss, but those not 
 arriving, the troops began to murmur, and he was 
 seized with a panic, recollecting that he had placed 
 himself almost in the same position as that of 
 Ludovico il Moro, whom the Swiss betrayed to 
 France. Thinking no time was to be lost, he dis- 
 patched the Cardinal of Sion with all the money he 
 had to the discontented soldiers, and giving out that 
 he was going to Trent, in order to receive more on 
 their account, the magnanimous chief set off in 
 the night with two hundred horse, leaving his army 
 to do as well as they might without a leader. Before 
 he could be pursued he was out of reach and in his 
 own dominions. The enraged soldiers were, of 
 
THE POPE AND SAINT. 421 
 
 course, obliged to retire, and this strange siege of 
 Milan was raised. 
 
 So extraordinary were his actions, both on this 
 and many other occasions, that it has been thought 
 his intellects could not be altogether sound. His 
 hatred of the French, which was invincible, led him 
 into the most singular errors, and it was want of 
 money alone which caused him to forego his wish to 
 annoy them. 
 
 His opposition to the power of the secret tribunals 
 in Germany is most honourable to him, and he per- 
 severingly and with great energy and fortunately 
 with success, laboured to extirpate their fatal power, 
 following in this the good example of his father. 
 
 He was fond of the arts, as the employment he 
 gave to Albert Durer and other artists proves, and 
 he is said to have been a poet, though the vehicle 
 he chose for his effusions was not the most graceful, 
 for it was in Dutch verse that he commemorated 
 some of the events of his life, while Hans Burgmair 
 executed designs in wood of the events he sang, under 
 his own direction. 
 
 At one time he hoped not only to become Pope, 
 but to be made a saint, for so he expresses himself in 
 a whimsical letter to his daughter, whose interest on 
 the occasion he solicits in inimitably bad French. 
 
 An interesting work appeared in 1830 in 
 Germany by Count Auersperg, under the name of 
 Anastasius Griin, called "• The Last of the Knights,"* 
 
 * Der letzte Ritter. 
 
422 
 
 which is, in fact, a poetical history of Maximihan. 
 The story of his adventures is told in a series of 
 ballads of great beauty and power. The poet in- 
 vests his hero with all the necessary virtues and 
 merits which are calculated to interest the reader, 
 and, at this distance of time, it is impossible to say 
 how well he may have deserved the praise thus 
 bestowed on him. The Germans speak of the great 
 Max as '* the real link between the frank, pleasant 
 middle ages, and the newer, more secret and more 
 prudently-calculating period, representing in him- 
 self the struggle of * The Old,' in which he was 
 brought up, with ' The New,' which, by obser- 
 vation and reflection, he had made his own — a 
 knight of the older, a soldier of the later times." 
 
 During his lifetime two works appeared pur- 
 porting to be either written by himself or under his 
 supervision. One, in prose, was called Der Weiss- 
 kunig. The Emperor's secretary, Marx Treitz- 
 sauerwein, was the editor. The poetical history was 
 called Theurdank, and recounts his love passages in 
 the wooing of his bride, the heiress of Burgundy ; 
 another secretary, Melchior Pfinzing, arranged it 
 for the reading world, and this is the work already 
 alluded to as being illustrated with wood-cuts ; it 
 must be a most interesting relic, worthy of the 
 attention of the antiquary : the date of the embel- 
 lishments is 1517, when it was published at Nu- 
 remberg. 
 
 Count Auersperg's poem begins with a scene in a 
 
BORRl. 423 
 
 carpenter's shop close to the castle of Neustadt, who 
 is called upon to make a cradle for the new-born 
 babe of the Empress Leonora ; the same carpenter, 
 half a century afterwards, makes the coffin of that 
 child, who is no other than Maximilian. 
 
 Amongst the remarkable personages that figured 
 at Innspruck, few are more so than that half quack, 
 half madman, il Cavaglieri Borri, who in the middle 
 of the 17th century, made much noise in the world 
 by his absurdities. He was the son of an able 
 physician of Milan, who left him some property, 
 which he considerably improved by cunning and 
 good luck. The mania of the period for the dis- 
 covery of the philosopher's stone, was the cause of 
 his success, and he made as many dupes as most of 
 those who possessed a knowledge of the great secret. 
 A contemporary writer thus names him, when he 
 was living at Amsterdam : *' He, whom I am going 
 to describe to you, is a tall black man, pretty well 
 shaped ; he wears good clothes, and spends pretty 
 high, though not so much as is imagined, for eight 
 or ten thousand livres will go a great way in Am- 
 sterdam. But a house of fifteen thousand crowns 
 bought in a good place, five or six footmen, a suit 
 after the French fashion, now and then a collation 
 to the ladies, the refusing money in some cases, five 
 or six rix-dollars distributed to the poor in proper 
 time and place, arrogant words and such like acts, 
 made some credulous persons, or some who could 
 have wished it had been true, say that he gave hand- 
 
424 BORRI. 
 
 fulls of diamonds, that he had found the philoso- 
 pher's stone, and tljat he had the Universal medicine. 
 He had heard say that physicians were suspected 
 of not believing enough, and therefore he pretended 
 to believe more than is required, and began to say 
 that the Virgin Mary was a fourth person of the 
 Divinity." For this he was attacked by the 
 Inquisition, and sentenced to be burnt for non- 
 appearance. 
 
 At Innspruck he made his first dupe of the 
 Archduke, whose chemical studies he directed. He 
 gave himself out for a Prophet, pretended to have 
 had revelations from Heaven, to possess the power 
 of living safely with, and ministering to persons 
 infected with the plague, and successfully got 
 through his boast on one occasion at Naples. 
 
 " I shall," he exclaims, at the beginning of his 
 career, " quickly finish my chemical labours by the 
 happy production of the philosopher's stone, and by 
 that means I shall have gold for all my necessities 
 in reforming the world ; I am sure of the assistance 
 of angels, and particularly of that of Michael the 
 archangel. When I began to walk in the spiritual 
 life, I had a vision in the night, attended by an 
 angelical voice, which assured me that I should 
 become a prophet. The sign that was given me 
 for it, was a palm that seemed to me surrounded by 
 the light of Paradise." 
 
 He proclaimed that St. Michael had taken pos- 
 session of his heart, and that a host of angels revealed 
 
BORRI. 425 
 
 to him the secrets of Heaven, and what passed in 
 the conclave of Alexander VII. 
 
 He had projected, when he found himself suffi- 
 ciently strong for the purpose, assembling the people 
 in the great square at Milan, and there representing 
 to them the abuses of the church, exciting them to 
 liberty, and proposing himself as their captain and 
 leader, but his design was discovered, and he was 
 forced to fly. 
 
 Queen Christina of Sweden protected him, and 
 was weak enough to spend both time and money 
 on the great pursuit. One monarch after another 
 encouraged his arts and listened to his ravings, for 
 the belief in this chimera was so powerful, that it 
 required centuries of defeat to convince persons of 
 its fallacy. At length the Inquisition claimed him, 
 and he was condemned to perpetual imprisonment, 
 but his services as physician being required to cure 
 a great man, his captivity was ameliorated : he died 
 at last at the age of seventy -nine, in the castle of 
 St. Angelo, in 1695, after a tolerably successful 
 career of cheating. 
 
 He asserted that no event of importance ever 
 occurred to him without the previous appearance of 
 "a clear large star" which he saw, although his 
 eyes were shut. That he was a skilful physician 
 there is no more doubt, than that he was a curious 
 charlatan, but the bigotry and ignorance of those he 
 had to deal with, is as much to blame for his actions 
 as himself. 
 
426 JOHN FREDERICK THE MAGNANIMOUS. 
 
 At Iiinspruck was confined for five years the 
 Elector of Saxony, who was called John Frederick 
 the Magnanimous, the zealous friend and supporter 
 of the Protestant cause, who was placed under the 
 ban of the empire by Charles V. and had to sustain 
 a war, which deprived him of his liberty and his 
 dominions, in consequence of his steady adherence 
 to the reformed doctrines. There are many cir- 
 cumstances of a romantic nature connected with his 
 history, which add to the interest one feels in re- 
 garding his figure in one of the fine relievos on the 
 tomb of the Archduke Ferdinand, in the church of 
 the Franciscans in Innspruck. 
 
 It is related that he was marked from his birth 
 with a golden cross on his back, which, when the 
 priest who baptized him observed, he remarked, as 
 he looked mournfully on the infant : " A great and 
 heavy cross, poor child, wilt thou have to bear 
 during this mortal life." A prediction which was 
 in his after destiny fulfilled. 
 
 He was patient in his adversities, and his title of 
 Magnanimous seems justly given : after the fatal 
 battle of Miihlberg in 1547, where he was defeated, 
 and made prisoner, he was sentenced by the Em- 
 peror to be beheaded, and a scaffold was actually 
 erected on the field of battle for the purpose. The 
 Elector was engaged with a fellow captive, Ernest 
 of Liineberg, in a game of chess, when the decree, 
 which had been resolved on, was announced to him. 
 He neither trembled nor changed colour at hearing 
 
COOLNESS. 427 
 
 the severe truth, but replied that he trusted more 
 in the Emperor's clemency than to expect death, 
 but if he had been deceived, he begged to be assured 
 at once that his hopes were vain, that he might 
 make arrangements in favour of his wife and 
 children. 
 
 " Let us, however," said he, calmly to his com- 
 panion, " finish our game." 
 
 This cool contempt for death, whether real or 
 assumed, had so great an effect on the Emperor, 
 that he was induced to listen to the entreaties of 
 friends, and grant him his life. This was, never- 
 theless, offered him on condition of his acceding to 
 the decisions of the Emperor and the council of 
 Trent in regard to religion. 
 
 John Frederick stoutly refused to agree to this, 
 declaring that nothing should prevent his adhering 
 stedfastly to the confession delivered at Augsburg 
 by his father himself and other princes, and he 
 preferred losing all rather than being separated from 
 the word of God. 
 
 The Emperor overcome by his firmness gave up 
 insisting on those conditions, and contented himself 
 with depriving the Elector of his dignity and do- 
 minions, which he conferred on his cousin Duke 
 Maurice of Meissen.^ 
 
 * Maurice of Saxony, at this time a great friend of the Em- 
 peror Charles V., became afterwards, from his exactions, his 
 avowed enemy. He was a brave and able general, and on com. 
 mencing hostilities in 1552, such was the rapidity of his move- 
 
428 LUCAS CRANACH. 
 
 The captive prince was taken in triumph to Augs- 
 burg, and compelled to be witness to the ceremonies 
 of Maurice's investiture with his possessions. He 
 bore all with the utmost equanimity, exclaiming, as 
 he heard the people's shouts : " Heaven grant that 
 they who so rejoice in my downfall, may find my 
 successor govern so well that they may have no need 
 of me or mine." 
 
 While a prisoner at Innspruck, he formed the 
 plan of a famous seminary, the university of Jena, 
 which his sons afterwards completed. A faithful 
 companion of his captivity, and a most devoted 
 friend, was Lucas Cranach the great painter, a man 
 distinguished not only for his talents as an artist, 
 but his eminent virtues. The liberation of the 
 Elector, is said, in a great measure, to have been 
 owing to his attachment and zeal, for on one occa- 
 sion the Emperor, who loved to see him paint, was 
 watching the progress of one of his pictures, and 
 remembering that, when a child, he had sat to the 
 artist, asked him how old he was when the portrait 
 was executed. Cranach replied, that the Emperor 
 was then eight years of age. Charles, in a fit of 
 good humour, desired him to ask some favour of 
 him, and he would not fail to grant it. 
 
 The generous painter, thoughtless of his own 
 
 ments that he had nearly surprised Charles at Innspruck. It is 
 intimated by historians that he might have taken him prisoner if 
 he pleased, and on being asked why he did not, replied that * he 
 had no cage fit for so magnificent a bird ' 
 
NOBLE ARTIST. 42^ 
 
 advantage, immediately threw himself at the Em- 
 peror's feet, and entreated the release of his sovereign. 
 Charles, struck with his noble spirit, exclaimed, as 
 he turned to his attendants, — " The Saxon is the 
 happiest of Princes — he has at least one true friend." 
 
 Not long after this the Emperor consented to 
 meet the wishes of several princes, in favour of his 
 captive, and in 1552 John Frederick was restored to 
 liberty. He attended Charles V. to Augsburg, 
 and from thence hastened to Weimar, where he was 
 received with affectionate delight by his subjects. 
 At the entrance of the town he was met by a troop 
 of boys and young girls with flowing hair, wearing 
 garlands of rue, and singing Te Deum. At Co- 
 burg he was met by his beloved wife Sybilla who 
 fainted in his arms when she rushed forward to 
 meet him. 
 
 The next year that tender companion, whom he 
 so much rejoiced to rejoin, was taken from him by 
 death, and when he gave directions respecting her 
 tomb in the church of Weimar, he said to his secre- 
 tary : " Tell the masons to leave a place for me by 
 my wife, for I shall soon follow, and be laid beside 
 her." 
 
 Scarcely had ten days elapsed before his melan- 
 choly prediction was fulfilled, and in his fifty-first 
 year John Frederick died. 
 
 He was as remarkable for his strength of body as 
 of mind : and incredible stories were told by the 
 Spanish soldiers of Charles Vth's army, of his gigan- 
 
430 READY WIT. 
 
 tic size. They asserted that a man might stand up 
 in one of his boots, which though not strictly true, 
 goes near to be proved, for at Gotha a boot of liis is 
 shewn, which is certainly large enough to contain a 
 tall child. 
 
 That he had a quick talent at repartee, appears 
 by the following anecdote. He had chosen for his 
 motto the words : — 
 
 Verbum Domine manet in Aetemum. 
 
 The initials of this sentence were embroidered on 
 the sleeves of all his retainers, and worn by himself 
 also. During the life time of his father, John the 
 Constant, the friend of Luther, he was attending a 
 diet as his representative, when an archbishop ob- 
 served to him, "Those letters V.D.M.I.A.E. which 
 I see on your clothes, and those of your servants, 
 signify I suppose, Verbum Dei manet im aermel/' 
 (i. e. the word of God abideth in the sleeve) alluding 
 to the lawn sleeves of his own order. " No," replied 
 the prince promptly, " they mean Verbum diaholi 
 manet in aixhi-episcopis" the word of the Devil 
 abideth in archbishops. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE EMPEROR AND THE PRECIPICE — ZIPS OF ZIRL THE LITTLE 
 
 MAID OF ZIRL— UGLY HEAD DRESS— IMST — MYSTERIOUS LOCK 
 — THE HOSTESS — THE NIGHT — CIVILITIES AT IMST — WARREN's 
 
 PAPER MILLS — LANDEK — WISSBERG — TRISAMA ROSANNA 
 
 STANZERTHAL— HEINRICH THE FOUNDLING AND HIS WORKS — 
 ARLBERG PASS. 
 
 I WAS not at all sorry to leave Innspruck and the 
 Sirocco which made the city like a cauldron, and I 
 hailed the fresh air in the mountains with extreme 
 pleasure as we wound along the banks of the Inn, 
 towards the high precipices of the Martins wand, 
 which divides the valley into Upper and Lower. 
 
 The Emperor Maximilian is the great legendary 
 hero of this part of the Tyrol, and amongst many 
 tales told of him is one which belongs to a spot, 
 which, thanks to Murray's correct indication, I did 
 not pass unnoticed, although, without warning, this 
 may easily be done in a carriage, as the object of 
 interest is placed too far above the road to be dis- 
 cerned without seeking for it. 
 
 I got out and strained my eyes to discover in the 
 face of a beetling precipice, a hollow cave, in which 
 a crucifix is now placed: this I imagined to be 
 
432 ZIPS OF ziuL. 
 
 quite small, as tlie immense height of the rock de- 
 ceives the eye, but in fact, it is no less than eighteen 
 feet high. Here it was that the great Emperor, 
 who was certainly as heedless and wild as he was 
 daring and brave, once hung suspended by the 
 heels over the tremendous precipice below, having, 
 when in pursuit of a chamois, missed his footing and 
 stumbled to this terrific spot. 
 
 He was seen from beneath in this perilous posi- 
 tion, but there was no means of helping him, and 
 his friends could only recommend his soul to mercy 
 conceiving his body devoted to destruction. Maxi- 
 milian continued to hold on with the desperate 
 strength of despair, but his powers were just on the 
 point of failing when a halloo near him restored his 
 courage, and in another moment a friendly grasp 
 dragged him over the rugged rocks to level ground. 
 
 He owed his delivery to the presence of mind of 
 a hunter named Zips, a native of Zirl, whose cha- 
 racter was more remarkable for intrepidity than 
 probity, and who had been, in fact, compelled to 
 choose a mountain home rather than pine in " cap- 
 tive thrall," for he was a fearless poacher and a 
 chaser of the king's deer. Maximilian, however, 
 was not too particular in his inquiries as to the 
 former conduct of his preserver, and, it is said, was 
 profuse in his rewards to the bold outlaw, on whom 
 he bestowed the title of Count Hollauer von Hohen- 
 felsen. It was a happy day for Zips of Zirl, when 
 he found an emperor dangling over a precipice 
 
THE LITTLE MAID OF ZIRL. 433 
 
 seven hundred and fifty feet perpendicular, above 
 the foaming Jnn, and a joyful sound to the magni- 
 ficent Maximilian when he heard the holloa, and 
 felt the grip of the hunter of the Martinswand. 
 
 The morning was fresh and bright, and the smell 
 of the pine-woods pleasant, as we penetrated their 
 thick retreats. The Inn is here broad and flowing, 
 and the meadows on its banks are filled with hi oh 
 forked poles, used for drying the corn and hay, 
 which the moisture of the ground renders difficult 
 in these valleys. The gigantic rock of Martinswand 
 frowns long over the valley, until new and imposing 
 mountains raise their colossal heads and peer 
 gloomily over the high hills in front, making them 
 appear insignificant by their superior grandeur. 
 Solitary villages start up, with their awkward- 
 shaped church- towers, so remarkable throughout 
 the Tyrol, but placed in picturesque positions which 
 give them a certain beauty ; and as we stopped to 
 change horses at several of these, the innocent faces 
 of the simple-looking children struck me as forming 
 a remarkable contrast to the ruggedness of the 
 scenes in which they live and move. One charm- 
 ing little curly-headed girl, of about five years old, 
 seemed fascinated by the appearance of strangers iu 
 her village, and stood as if rooted to the spot all the 
 time the huge animals, who were to carry us on, 
 were being introduced to our vehicle. Their enor- 
 mous hoofs, close to her delicate little naked feet, 
 caused her no alarm ; she kept her ground, still 
 
 2 F 
 
434 KLOSTER OF STAMPS. 
 
 gazing fixedly at us, with a pretty, animated smile 
 of inquiry ; and there I still saw her, on looking 
 back, after we had clattered away on a road that 
 appeared to lie through the perpendicular rock 
 which rose straight up, like a wall before us. This 
 interesting little half-dressed creature wore, over her 
 curls, one of those savage caps with which the 
 females of the Tyrol disfigure themselves ; it is of 
 huge dimensions, and made of what seems to be 
 fur, but is, in fact, of shaggy woollen material. It 
 is generally purple, spotted with white, and makes 
 the head of the wearer look of a disproportionate 
 size. I met, soon after, a boy driving goats, whose 
 head-dress was far more elegant; for it was adorned 
 with flowers, of a high conical shape, bound with 
 a gold cord. 
 
 We passed, on the road, the enormous and very 
 magnificent Kloster of Stamps, which occupies a 
 large space in the flat valley, and has a most im- 
 posing effect. Maximilian's second wife, Bianca 
 Maria Sforza, is buried here, and it was always a 
 convent of great importance. The present building, 
 however, appears, externally, perfectly modern, 
 without beauty of architecture. It has numerous 
 towers, with shining balloon-shaped tops, the favour- 
 ite style in these valleys, and peculiarly ungraceful. 
 
 At Silz we rested at a comfortable clean inn, 
 and then resumed our journey, the heat continuing 
 in the valleys very great, while on the high hills the 
 air, from the snows, was more chilly than fresh. 
 
IMST. 435 
 
 The mountains are here very lofty and wild, but 
 always of the same character. For three hours we 
 wound along a fine road beneath the gigantic 
 peaks of the Wildehaus, and along the charming 
 Oetzthal, till we reached Imst, just as the lowering 
 clouds, which had been long gathering amongst 
 the thick heights, threatened to burst in rain. We 
 entered a very large inn, which gave evidence of 
 having once been a mansion of great importance, 
 and the size of which makes it capable of accom- 
 modating a whole host of travellers, should they 
 come wandering along these interminable vales. 
 
 Having watched the sky for a time, uncertain 
 whether it would be safe to proceed, as the passes in 
 our onward way were still higher than those we 
 had already surmounted, our indecision was ended 
 by a sudden furious burst of thunder, which came 
 roaring down the valley as if a hundred wolves 
 were in pursuit, and we therefore made up our 
 minds to remain for the night at this secluded spot 
 in the very heart of the mountains. 
 
 Imst is finely situated in the wildest of all pos- 
 sible positions, between several valleys, and hemmed 
 round by meeting heights, some covered with snow, 
 and some wooded to the highest point. 
 
 The gigantic inn, formerly called Springestein, 
 which stands across the path amidst different 
 roads, is remarkably picturesque from the curious 
 tourelles which adorn its corners, and run up the 
 whole height of the house. Much of it has been 
 2f2 
 
436 MYSTERIOUS LOCK. 
 
 re- constructed since a tremendous fire, which burnt 
 down the greatest part of the village not long since. 
 The inn is very good, and the people extremely civil, 
 so that it is by no means a bad place for an explorer 
 to fix his head quarters in for a summer, and from 
 thence start for the different Thais which are full of 
 interest, and require time and courage to become 
 acquainted with. 
 
 I never beheld anything so mysteriously com- 
 plicated as the locks of the doors to the rooms w^e 
 occupied, and in vain did I endeavour to put one 
 to its intended purpose. Ingenuity seemed to have 
 been taxed to the utmost to produce a machine 
 which rendered the simple process of locking and 
 unlocking a door almost impossible. Nearly a yard 
 long, with screws, and bars, and plates, and snaps, 
 and handles, this wondrous engine half covered the 
 door, and had a most formidable appearance : when 
 the key was turned, half a dozen little iron spirits 
 started forward, and grasped the bars which crossed, 
 and the wires which curled in the heart of the mys- 
 tery, the whole sending forth a startling sound of 
 snapping and clasping, quite terrifying to the impri- 
 soned denisen of the apartment so guarded. 
 
 Our hostess seemed very proud of her locks, j 
 which she alone was able to manage, for, on our ' 
 return from a walk, the key of the sitting room 
 having been found, after some search, no hand but ] 
 her's was able to unclose the barrier, though several 
 laughing, noisy maids volunteered their aid to help 
 our necessity. 
 
THE NIGHT. 437 
 
 We remained all the next day, which was Sunday, 
 in this valley, attended at our inn by an amusing 
 party of damsels, who generally came into the room 
 to bring any thing asked for, by twos and threes, 
 and had always plenty to say, and a variety of 
 information to give. 
 
 Half our time was occupied in opening and shut- 
 ting the ranges of windows in our sitting room, in 
 which one huge bow boasted of five, and four others 
 opened to the views on two sides of the immense 
 saloon. As it was extremely sultry, we set them 
 all open whenever the gusts of storm would allow, 
 and had, with the aid of our ready ministers, to 
 keep shutting them quickly every time a hurricane 
 of hail and wind came on, ushered by vivid lightning 
 flashes, and long peals of echoing thunder. 
 
 All night long the worthy inhabitants of this 
 town of an hotel did nothing but carouse and make 
 rejoicings, some singing to the guitar, some to the 
 flute, others intoning a chorus, which was still 
 renewed as it came to an end. So that this melody, 
 together with the bright moonlight which told me 
 that 
 
 **.... to sleep, 
 Was wronging such a night," 
 
 and which streamed into my uncurtained room, 
 succeeded by a rich glowing sun-rise, made any- 
 thing approaching to repose impossible, a circum- 
 stance by no means uncommon in these mountain 
 
438 CIVILITIES AT IMST. 
 
 regions, where people appear entirely independent o( 
 sleep during the summer. 
 
 When we left the hotel at early morning, just as 
 the sun was appearing, our hostess and her damsels 
 made their appearance with a bouquet for the ladies, 
 which was presented amidst kissing of hands, and 
 expressions of friendship. In return for this it was 
 expected we should write in the Fremdenbuch our 
 approbation of the entertainment we had met with 
 at the hotel. My companion, however, having been 
 kept awake by the over-night's hilarity at Imst did 
 not feel favourably inclined, I was therefore obliged 
 to linger behind, and write my own impressions 
 of the goodness of the inn, and the amiable intentions 
 of its owners. 
 
 I was then conducted to the carriage, as if in 
 triumph, for two of the maids insisted on supporting 
 me by the arms down the dark steep stairs, almost 
 carrying me two flights : and at length we drove 
 oS amidst greetings and good wishes, which seemed 
 endless. 
 
 I was surprised to hear that in this secluded re- 
 treat English enterprise had established a large paper 
 mill, and here a person named Warren had, for 
 several years, employed numerous labourers. The 
 mill was now, however, given up for some reason, 
 and the occupation at an end. The English seem 
 particularly popular at Imst, and the departure of 
 several families connected with this commerce was 
 much regretted. 
 
LANDEK. 439 
 
 Daybreak threw a thin lilac veil over the moun- 
 tains, through which the rocks pierced like pinnacles 
 of ruddy gold, the snowy heights were all tinged with 
 •a soft rose colour, and the distant sky was of a deep 
 dark purple. These effects of the skies are wonder- 
 fully striking and beautiful throughout this region, 
 and greatly relieve the somewhat monotonous scenery, 
 though fine, by the variety of tints which they throw 
 over the landscape. As usual our way was by the side 
 of a roaring, foaming mountain torrent, which at 
 times spread out into lake-like proportions, shewing 
 what mischief it, could do if provoked. The bed of 
 the Inn here is chalky, and its turbid waters were 
 more than usually disturbed by the recent storms. 
 Nothing could be more wildly romantic than this part 
 of our route between Imst and Landek, all of which 
 is the scene of the Tyrolese struggles for liberty, at 
 various periods of their history. Occasional feudal 
 castles rise towering on heights and look down on 
 the valleys. The castle of Kronburg stands proudly 
 on its green hill, a picturesque ruin of great 
 beauty. 
 
 We arrived at Landek in about four hours. It is 
 a curious secluded mountain village in the midst of 
 rocks and precipices, with the remains of a fine castle 
 overhanging the river, the venerable beauty of which 
 is spoilt from its having been turned into a dwelling 
 house for some functionary, and it now presents the 
 usual appearance of almost all the Tyrol castles, with 
 ugly roofs and walls squeezed in amongst the antique 
 turrets. 
 
440 WISSBERG. 
 
 From Laudek several roads branch off leading into 
 Switzerland and Italy; that most magnificent of all, 
 leading to the grand pass of the Stelvio, may be fol- 
 lowed from Landek by the Ober-Innthal. The river 
 is crossed here by a fine bridge for carriages, and by 
 a foot bridge exceedingly picturesque, beneath the 
 rocks at the foot of the castle. I stood on the centre 
 of this bridge for some time, watching the gambols 
 of the angry river, which foamed and thundered 
 below, threatening to overwhelm the little fragile 
 cottages on its margin, which seem to rock with the 
 force of its dashing waves against them. Huge 
 mountains rise all round, and the first glacier I had 
 seen was gleaming before me blue and transparent — 
 a river in the air in a bed of glittering snow. 
 
 The costume of the women here is extremel}'^ odd 
 and ugly ; every head being enveloped by the 
 hideous shaggy woollen cap, black or purple, en- 
 livened with white specks, which I at first thought 
 was made of the skin of a bear in its original rough- 
 ness. Some of these are round like a turban, and 
 some pyramidal, all are equally frightful and disfigu- 
 ring, and the clumsy figures they crown do not set 
 them ofif. 
 
 Not far from Landek, amongst pine covered moun- 
 tains, rises the fine castle of Wissberg, which has 
 still a grand effect, though modernized. Its position 
 is glorious, for it stands on an isolated rock at the 
 entrance of a deep gorge, before it are huge heights 
 crowned with dark pines, and behind towers a moun- 
 
I 
 
 THE ARLBERG. 441 
 
 ill covered with snow ; two of its antique towers 
 are connected by a bridge which spans a tremendous 
 ravine, down which a dashing cataract rushes in 
 foamy haste and falls into the rapid river beneath. 
 Pines climb high up the rocks and blacken the face 
 of the cliff which it crowns, and the wreaths of 
 crimson roses and the bowers of elder which lined 
 the sides of the road opposite, presented a singular 
 contrast to the eye. 
 
 The beautiful torrents of the Trisanna and the 
 Rosanna swell the Inn in this fine valley, which is 
 here called the Stanzerthal. 
 
 At St. Anthon we began the ascent of the Arlberg, 
 or Eagle's Mount, a high pass, covered with snow 
 in winter, but where w^e encountered but little, and 
 no difficulties of any kind. Nevertheless, it was 
 formerly a journey of great danger to cross this 
 formidable mountain, at the time when fine roads 
 were undreamt of. Many were the travellers lost 
 in the overwhelming snows of these desolate regions, 
 before a benevolent spirit came to their rescue. The 
 following simple account of the first foundation of a 
 hospital for the relief of distressed travellers is very 
 interesting and affecting, as related by the founder 
 himself. 
 
 " I, Heinrich Fiindelkind, (foundling). My 
 father, he who found me, was the Mayor of Kemp^ 
 ten, and was ruined by surety-ship. 
 
 " He had nine children, of whom I, Heinrich Fiin^ 
 delkind, was the tenth. 
 
442 HEINRICH THE FOUNDLING AND HIS WORKS. 
 
 *• Then he proposed to us to go to service. 
 
 " Then I, Heinrich Fiindelkind was hired by 
 Jaklein Ober Rein to herd cattle, and the first year 
 they gave me two gulden. Then did I live with 
 this Jaklein ten years ; and there did I go with him 
 to church in the winter, and carried his sword. And 
 there were brought in the bodies of many people 
 who had perished in the snow on the Arlberg, whose 
 eyes and throats the birds had eaten. And that 
 moved me, Heinrich Fiindelkind, so deeply, that as 
 I had earned fifteen gulden, there did I cry out and 
 spoke thus, * Would anybody take my fifteen gulden 
 and make a beginning on the Arlberg to try to save 
 people from being lost in the snow !' 
 
 " That would nobody do. 
 
 " And then did I take Almighty God for my helper, 
 and the dear lord Saint Christopher, who is a great 
 help in time of need, and I began, with the fifteen 
 gulden that I had earned with the shepherd's crook 
 in the service of Jaklein Ober Rein ; and there the 
 very first winter did I save seven men's lives with 
 these blessed alms. Since this oftentimes have good 
 and honourable men helped me, and I have saved 
 fifty people's lives. And this beginning did I make 
 Anno Dei 1386, on the day of John the Baptist." 
 
 This excellent simple-hearted herdsman made pil- 
 grimages throughout Europe to collect contributions 
 for this undertaking, and was fortunate in obtaining 
 the sanction of several powerful princes and noble- 
 men of the country. 
 
CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Upon the mountain's heathery slope 
 The day's last splendours shine, 
 
 And rich with many a radiant hue 
 Gleam gaily on the Rhine. 
 
 Southey. 
 
 DALAAS — HOUSES— FENCES — THE ILL — THE RHINE — RAGATZ — 
 
 PFEFFERS ANCIENT DESCENT — CAVERN GALLERY — THE 
 
 SPRING — RETURN— THE ESTABLISHMENT. 
 
 The change is very striking from these heights of 
 the Arlberg to the smiling fertile vale below, and at 
 the pretty village of Dalaas we were so charmed 
 with the contrast that we resolved to make the neat 
 little inn our quarters for the night. The painted 
 tawdry houses of the Tyrol here give place to Swiss 
 cottages of wood, so carefully constructed that 
 they have a toy-like effect, with their pine-wood 
 beams and the delicate scales of rich orange brown 
 which encrust the whole front of the buildings. 
 
 Everything at Dalaas is perfectly Arcadian ; one 
 asks where the poor can be, for all seems so neat, 
 clean, and comfortable that no idea of poverty is 
 suggested to the mind. A clear rushing stream 
 turns several corn'mills to which neat country girls 
 were taking their corn to be ground ; children and 
 good-natured lively-looking old women were driving 
 their familiar and amenable cows home, whose tink- 
 
444 HOUSES. — FENCES. 
 
 ling bells made pleasant music as they went, and all 
 appeared to me to realize an image of the golden age, 
 and I was ready to exclaim, 
 
 ** Pastorelle, quanto siete felice !'* 
 
 This beauty continues to increase as the orchards 
 and gardens of Switzerland are approached, though 
 the intrusive finery of the Tyrol is not altogether 
 discontinued, and the church-yards are crowded with 
 gilded and painted crosses, nor have the houses got 
 rid of whitewash and glaring fresco painting. By 
 degrees, however, they fade away, and the wooden 
 cottages predominate in the cheerful valley of Alfenz 
 or Klosterthal. The fences of the luxuriant fields 
 are here even more elaborate than in the Tyrol, 
 much art and ingenuity being employed in their 
 construction, and groups of fine trees wave amidst 
 the corn, hemp, and flax fields in all directions. 
 
 We observed that the red and yellow of Austria 
 had yielded to the crimson and white of Leichen- 
 stein, in this part of the route, and not only the pos- 
 tillion's colours spoke of another sway, but every 
 peasant had a red handkerchief or cap. 
 
 After crossing the rapid river 111 by a covered 
 wooden bridge, wide pastures, dotted with wooden 
 huts for cattle, make the country cheerful, and by 
 degrees, the jagged grey rocks of Tyrol sink in the 
 distance, leaving cultivation and brightness before, 
 and a range on the verge of sight of purple moun- 
 tains, which tell of the future glories of Swiss 
 scenery. A few Swiss dresses begin to appear, all 
 
THE RHINE. 445 
 
 fluttering with coloured ribbons and gay with 
 velvet ; and at Feldkirche I saw the first transparent 
 black fly-cap, which towers over the head of the 
 females of the country. 
 
 We entered the valley where the infant Rhine 
 first bursts like a giant babe to light, murmuring 
 along the wide stony bed prepared for its sure and 
 impetuous growth ; already a few of the frowning 
 castles, which distinguish the exulting and abound- 
 -ing river from all others, appear above its precipitous 
 banks, and again the country becomes wild and 
 desolate. 
 
 We were surprised when we found ourselves on 
 the borders of the Rhine at Triibbach, to see no 
 indication of a boat to carry us over, but when the 
 postillion quietly directed his horses towards the 
 heaps of white stones before us, and caused them to 
 ford the shallow stream which trickled amongst 
 them, we began to imagine that the stupendous river 
 was to be crossed almost dryshod; after some mi- 
 nutes, however, we reached the middle of the bed, 
 and there we became aware of the strength of the 
 main current, which, deep and broad, ran rapidly 
 along beyond the belt of stones we had passed. A 
 boat was ready to ferry horses and carriage across, 
 and we soon landed on the opposite shore. Nothing 
 can be wilder and more savage than this spot ; the 
 enormous mass of Falkiss rises boldly into the sky, 
 as if guarding the young and vigorous waters des- 
 tined to mighty deeds hereafter, and numerous lower 
 
446 raoatz. 
 
 rocks, pointed and rugged, lift up their axes and 
 spears by the side of their chief. At length the 
 road turns off, and, for a time, leaves the river in 
 his cradle of sedges, and advances towards the mys- 
 terious region of Ragatz, for we had diverged a 
 little from our way, to visit from hence the far- 
 famed baths of Pfeffers. 
 
 The position of Ragatz itself is very imposing : 
 the small town stands on an open space surrounded 
 by a wall of high saw-edged perpendicular rocks, 
 with the furious, foaming Tamina leaping and boil- 
 ing down a steep ravine, and rushing into the plain 
 beyond ; a picturesque ruined castle crowns a neigh- 
 bouring height, and a large new inn, supplied with 
 water from the hot spring at several miles distance, 
 occupies a conspicuous place in the vale, and pro- 
 mises ample accommodation for travellers. A few 
 minutes' walk from this building begins the sin- 
 gular road through the gorge of the Tamina. The 
 bridge is passed under which the torrent rushes 
 after falling over numerous rocky impediments, and 
 the way to the batlis appears. 
 
 We had hired a small carriage drawn by a mule» 
 to convey us to the scene, but the walk is equally, 
 if not more, agreeable, for those whose time is not 
 precious, and whose strength is equal to . the ex- 
 ertion. A cleft of steep rocks is entered at once, 
 and the road lies along a naturally projecting ledge, 
 now considerably assisted by art, beneath over- 
 hanging cliffs on one side, and a sheer precipice on 
 
 I 
 
% 
 
PFEFFERS. 447 
 
 the other, of five hundred feet in height, while, be- 
 tween, and but a few yards below the path, the 
 stream which comes rushing from the distant gulf 
 hurries madly on, as if terrified at the din and 
 commotion it has itself created in its course. 
 
 I could not at first help feeling somewhat ner- 
 vous as the wheels of the carriage passed within 
 half an inch of the precipice where, as there is no 
 real danger, it is thought unnecessary to protect 
 the road by a parapet ; this, however, does not long 
 occur, and at intervals great precautions are taken 
 to render all secure, a stone wall here and there 
 having been erected, and trunks of trees laid down 
 to form a border to the path. By the debris which 
 strew some parts of the way, it is evident that re? 
 pairs are frequently necessary to keep it in order, 
 but at present nothing can be safer. An arch is 
 cut through the rock about half-way to allow 
 carriages to pass, and the toppling crags peer 
 over each other, casting deep shades across the 
 wild ravine, along which the patient mule uncon- 
 sciously hurries. 
 
 Open circular spaces occur occasionally where 
 meeting carriages may turn, but it appears as if 
 drivers had a particular pleasure in frightening 
 their victims, for they invariably contrive to meet 
 in a narrow part, and insist on passing each other, 
 where danger, by such means alone, can be created. 
 
 Picturesque masses of rock sometimes intrude on 
 
448 PFEFFERS. 
 
 the path between the traveller and the torrent, but, 
 in general, there is nothing to impede the full view 
 of the white cataract beneath. A scanty growth of 
 fir-trees climbs the steep, and a few shrubs nod over 
 from the summit, and wave a greeting to the ad- 
 venturer. 
 
 A neat wood-house stands about half-way, beyond 
 which the road mounts zigzag, till the door of the 
 bath-house stops all further advance. 
 
 On arriving here, the first feeling is disappoint- 
 ment that the great adventure of Pfeff'ers is accom- 
 plished with so much ease, but, in fact, except the 
 incident of the precipice road, it is only beginning. 
 
 The enormous establishment offers its long gal- 
 leries and vaulted corridors to the stranger's sur- 
 prise, who sees here one of the finest buildings 
 devoted to health that he can behold. Boarders, of 
 all ranks, can be accommodated within these walls 
 to the number of three hundred. In former days it 
 was under monastic superintendence, but now 
 government has the arrangement of all the con- 
 cerns of the baths, and all regulations are made by 
 authority. The poor, as well as the rich, are here 
 made comfortable and cheerful, and may enjoy the 
 benefit of the healing spring, which was, in days 
 of yore, thought so salutary that patients did not 
 hesitate to trust themselves to a rope and a wooden 
 seat, that they might be lowered from the height 
 above along the perpendicular face of the precipice 
 
ANCIENT DESCENT. 449 
 
 into the abyss, where the boiling waters of the 
 Tamina guard the sacred well in the secret recesses 
 of the cave. 
 
 The spot is shewn where patients descended in 
 this perilous way, but now all is a * chernin de velours' 
 and the savage nature of the spot alone can inspire 
 terror. It is impossible, however, not to shudder 
 at the reflection of such daring, and to shrink from 
 the thought that so many feeble beings, desperately 
 seeking relief, should trust their lives to the chance 
 of a rope's strength. 
 
 We descended a long flight of stairs from the 
 upper rooms of the bath-house, and found ourselves 
 in a large, handsome pump-room, \s here the waters 
 may be drunk by those who are content to receive 
 it through the pipes which convey it from the 
 fountain-head, in the distant cavern. 
 
 We were now on the brink of the torrent which 
 we had long seen boiling far below our road, and 
 we crossed it, over a solid bridge of planks, securely 
 provided with rails, for it is on the opposite side of 
 the ravine that the pathway is conducted along the 
 face of the clifl*. This path is a projecting gallery 
 of wood, firmly secured with strong railing and 
 numerous supports, and which hangs midway be- 
 tween the roaring^ torrent and the vault of the 
 cavern, whose length is two thousand feet, and the 
 height of the closing rocks about seven hundred. 
 
 After entering a low wooden door, which is kept 
 locked, I found myself fairly entered into thia 
 
 2 G 
 
450 CIRCULAR CAVERN. 
 
 extraordinary retreat, and, for a few moments, was 
 almost overpowered by the singularity of the situa- 
 tion. All seemed darkness and confusion : a thun- 
 dering voice shook the huge cavern to its extremity, 
 and a thousand yelling, roaring answers appeared 
 sent up from every cell and hollow. By degrees 
 the darkness was, to some extent, dispelled, and as 
 I advanced I could see the wild waves far below 
 me galloping like enraged wolves down the rocky 
 abyss, leaping over huge masses of stone, and roar- 
 ing fearfully as they surmounted every obstacle, 
 while the caverns re-echoed to the stunning din 
 they caused. 
 
 The path doubles and zigzags with the torrent, 
 and the rocks are sometimes closed overhead, and 
 sometimes leave clefts through which glimpses of 
 blue sky and sun and waving trees and emerald 
 turf are seen at an enormous height above. It is, 
 however, a giddy task to look up at these openings, 
 whence reviving gleams are sent down, gilding the 
 moist projections of the caves, and glittering on the 
 white marble-like stone which divides the rock with 
 grey slate deepened into black in many parts from 
 the dripping of the water from above. 
 
 At about a third of the way a huge circular 
 cavern opens out, and here, across the dark ravine, 
 a strong bridge of planks is thrown, that the ad- 
 venturous may cross to the other side. I stood at 
 the edge for some time, endeavouring to summon 
 courage to follow my companion, but as I looked 
 
THE SPRING. 451 
 
 on the tremendous gulf, the dark rocky wall, the 
 terrific vaulted overhanging roof, and heard the 
 confusing howls, and the hissing and thundering 
 defiance of the imprisoned and struggling waters, I 
 had no power to move or to dare the fury of the 
 spirits of the place by stepping over their abyss, and 
 braving them in one of their cells of terror. 
 
 Continuing to ascend gently, the path suddenly 
 stops before a bridge thrown over to a projecting 
 platform of rock, where, in a low cave, closed by a 
 door, which is kept locked, boils the hot spring 
 which concealed itself for ages, in vain, in a spot 
 almost inaccessible. 
 
 When the mouth of this cave is opened, forth 
 issues a stream of hot air, such as might proceed 
 from the jaws of the devastating dragon who, no 
 doubt, was believed, in the golden age of romance, 
 to inhabit this retreat and to sally forth occasionally 
 on his destructive errands. A spirit of benevolence, 
 however, displaced " the horrid creature," and the 
 sulphureous smell is no longer caused by the dra- 
 gon's breath, but it is a sign that guides to health 
 and renovated life. 
 
 Beyond this spot the mighty cavern raises a 
 barrier of rocks which forbid further progress ; for 
 not even a shght ledge, such as has been hitherto 
 taken advantage of for the gallery, now appears ; 
 all is even and perpendicular, dark and threatening, 
 and the black stream comes furiously down between 
 the dismal rocks, making a violent leap up as it 
 
452 THE RETURN. 
 
 issues forth, and plunging into the depths beneath. 
 Above, a wide fissure shews the sky, and, the light 
 descending points out the cavern of the spring 
 shining amidst the universal gloom. 
 
 On returning, the eye having become accustomed 
 to the darkness, every object is distinctly visible, 
 and the real size of this remarkable cavern appears 
 with all its grandeur of form and the terrors of its 
 recesses. In some parts the ruggedness of the roof 
 and the rents which shew the sky tell histories of 
 displaced rocks, which, in the course of time, have 
 been driven in perhaps by the violence of storms, 
 and having detached themselves from the great mass, 
 have fallen headlong into the bed of the torrent 
 which foams beneath, opposing fresh barriers to its 
 headlong course and thus increasing the din of its 
 impatient murmuring. 
 
 Pipes are conducted along the same gallery which 
 leads to the spring, and by these the water is sent to 
 the baths, but those who drink it, in many cases, 
 come to the fountain head and have it drawn pure 
 from its source, as its virtue must necessarily be 
 weakened by the long course it has to take before it 
 reaches the establishment. 
 
 There seems everything in the arrangement of 
 the baths to make them agreeable and convenient — 
 handsome dining rooms and saloons and private 
 chambers, pleasant terrace walks and bowers, and 
 flowery paths conducting to the heights, whence 
 fine views and delightful strolls may be had for the 
 
THE ESTABLISHMENT. 453 
 
 seeking. There is a perfect bazaar within the house, 
 where every sort of necessary can be obtained, and 
 French millinery, Scotch thread gloves and stockings, 
 Swiss toys and Italian jewellery can be bought. 
 
 Amongst the inmates we found an English lady 
 wlio had been at PfefFers during the season and 
 generally returned every year. We heard the 
 society was cheerful, and I doubt not that a sojourn 
 at these baths of the cavern must offer many attrac- 
 tions not to be found in less novel situations. 
 
 We slept at Ragatz, and on the following day 
 proceeded on our way to Lake Wallenstadt, where 
 I began my acquaintance with that most exciting of 
 all regions — romantic Switzerland. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 JOHN OLLIVIEB, PRINTER, 69, PALt MALL. 
 

 
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