SAVOY, SWITZERLAND, PARTS OF GERMANY BORDERING ON THE RHINE, HOLLAND AND
THE NETHERLANDS ***






[Illustration:

     Wageman del.          E. Finden sc.

          JAMES HOLMAN, R.N.-F.R.S.

    “_Total eclipse! nor Sun, nor Moon;_
    _All dark amidst the blaze of noon._”]




                                   THE
                                Narrative
                                    OF
                                A JOURNEY,
                                UNDERTAKEN
                     IN THE YEARS 1819, 1820, & 1821,
                                 THROUGH
                    FRANCE, ITALY, SAVOY, SWITZERLAND,
                 PARTS OF GERMANY BORDERING ON THE RHINE,
                      HOLLAND, AND THE NETHERLANDS;
                                COMPRISING
                                INCIDENTS
        THAT OCCURRED TO THE AUTHOR, WHO HAS LONG SUFFERED UNDER A
                       TOTAL DEPRIVATION OF SIGHT;
       _With various points of Information collected on his Tour_.

                      BY JAMES HOLMAN, R. N. & K. W.

            “Cæcus iter monstrare velit: tamen aspice si quid
            Et nos, quod cures proprium fecisse, loquamur.” HOR.

                            _FOURTH EDITION._

                                 LONDON:
              PUBLISHED BY G. B. WHITTAKER, AVE MARIA LANE.
                                  1825.




THE

Dedication.

TO HER ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCESS AUGUSTA.


MADAM,

_If there be any one circumstance peculiarly gratifying to myself, as the
Author of the present Narrative, it is the permission I have received to
dedicate it to your Royal Highness._

_The kind manner in which this honour has been conferred, cannot fail to
increase the value of the boon, and strengthen the ties of gratitude by
which I felt bound to your Royal Highness, for the flattering notice, and
important favours, you had previously been pleased to bestow upon me._

_I beg to assure your Royal Highness, that it will ever be the proudest
feeling of my heart, that my very humble production should have been
ushered into public notice, under the auspices of a Patroness, whose
exalted virtues have secured her universal esteem and respect, and made
her the admiration of that sex, of which she is the distinguished and
presiding ornament._

_With every sentiment of devotion, I am_,

                                  MADAM,

                         _Your Royal Highness’s_

                _Much obliged and very obedient Servant_,

                                                             JAMES HOLMAN.




PREFACE.


The very peculiar circumstances under which the Author professes to
obtrude the present volume upon public notice, appear to require some
explanation, were it only to obviate suspicions which might arise,
that the general detail of circumstances which it comprises, has been
the production of an active imagination, rather than a relation of the
occurrences of real life; for he is fully aware, that such a construction
might be put upon the apparent anomaly of the travels of one, whose loss
of sight, a source of information naturally considered indispensable
in such an undertaking, must greatly limit his power of acquiring the
legitimate materials, necessary to give his work body and consistency.

On this account, it may not be superfluous, to enter upon a brief history
of his misfortune, as introductory to an explanation of the motives which
have influenced him in bringing forward the present publication.

Destined to the naval service of his country, his exclusive attention,
for some years, was devoted to the attainment of that professional
knowledge, which he hoped might lead to honourable distinction; how
far these views were likely to have been crowned with success, it will
now be useless to state; it is sufficient to say, that at the age of
twenty-five, while in the very bloom of expectation, his prospects were
irrecoverably blighted by the effects of an illness, resulting from his
professional duties, and which left him deprived of all the advantages of
“heavens prime decree,”—wholly—and, he fears, permanently blind.

    “Total eclipse! nor sun; nor moon;
    All dark amidst the blaze of noon.”

After the distressing feelings which accompanied the first shock of this
bodily privation, had in some measure subsided, the active mind began
to seek occupation and amusement, amongst the many resources which a
beneficent Providence had still left uncurtailed. These he has happily
found, not only abundant, but apparently inexhaustible; and the lapse of
ten years, has not merely softened down the sense of misfortune, but even
reconciled him to an affliction, which some view as the severest that can
befal humanity.

    “⸺though sight be lost,
    Life yet hath many solaces, enjoyed
    Where other senses want not their delights.”

Amongst the various pursuits which have served to cheer, and sooth him
throughout this protracted day of darkness, the book of nature has been
largely opened to his mental view; nor has he failed to cultivate the
pleasing fields of literature; and he may exclaim with our admired poet,
when he so pathetically bewails the loss of this most precious organ:

    “So thick a drop serene hath quenched their orbs,
    Or dim suffusion veiled; yet not the more
    Cease I to wander where the Muses haunt
    Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill.”

In time he began to acquire greater facility of locomotion than he could
have anticipated, and which was succeeded by an almost irresistible
inclination to visit different parts of his native country, in quest of
knowledge or amusement; notwithstanding the limited information, which it
may be imagined he would thus derive, he found the impressions produced,
afford him not only present, but permanent gratification. To some, this
may appear incredible; it must, however, not be forgotten, that the loss
of one sense, is uniformly compensated by superior powers of those that
remain unimpaired, in consequence of their being more called into action;
and it is well known, that the sense of touch, in particular, acquires
so great a delicacy, as to afford degrees of information, which under
ordinary states it is incapable of: besides this advantage, he acquired
an undefinable power, almost resembling instinct, which he believes in a
lively manner gives him ideas of whatever may be going forward externally.

In the year 1819, his health having for some time suffered from causes
which it is unnecessary to mention, the Author became assured that
nothing would tend more to re-establish it, than a visit to the highly
favoured clime of the southern parts of Europe: while at the same time,
and which was, perhaps, paramount to all other considerations, he would
be gratifying his desire of obtaining information; he therefore, with
this double view, determined to undertake the journey which forms the
subject of the present pages;—and is happy to say, that in neither of
these objects has he met with disappointment.

It may be more difficult to assign satisfactory reasons, for laying
before his readers the various incidents which befel him, in this pursuit
of health and occupation; for he is not vain enough to imagine, that they
could feel interested in his acquisition of the one, or participate with
him in the enjoyment of the other.

The compilation was, in the first instance, entered upon as a matter
of employment and selfish pleasure. None but those who have travelled
through countries, and amidst circumstances novel to them, can appreciate
the delight experienced from recalling in this way the interesting
points of an interesting journey, and fighting as it were, their battles
over again. On shewing a portion of the notes thus collected to his
friends, their too kind partiality (for such he fears it has been)
induced them to think that if published, they might not prove wholly
unacceptable to the public, and their solicitations and assurances at
length determined him to adopt their suggestions.

The Author will not profess to be ignorant of the presumptuous nature of
his attempt; or unconscious of the numerous deficiencies and inaccuracies
with which his work abounds; many of these are necessarily attributable
to the disadvantages under which he has laboured; his very outset
was amidst unfavourable circumstances, as he was then almost wholly
unacquainted with that language, which could alone enable him to acquire
the information he was seeking for: this must be his apology for the
want of observation and incident, which are more particularly manifest
throughout the first months of his residence in France.

The want of vision must frequently make his observations and
descriptions imperfect; to compensate for this, he has availed himself
of such intelligence as he could derive from others; and, for the same
reasons, has introduced a variety of extracts from interesting authors,
which appeared desirable to elucidate or enliven his narrative.

He rests his chief hope of the approbation of the public, upon having
given a plain and faithful statement of a journey, which must be regarded
as possessing a degree of originality, arising from the peculiar
circumstances under which it was accomplished.

He now concludes his prefatory matter, by soliciting the indulgence of
his readers, and entreating them not to criticise with too much severity,
a work which, he trusts, has some claims upon their forbearance; and
which, if it happens to repay their perusal by any pleasurable emotion,
or to excite a kind sympathy for his own situation, will have answered
the fullest expectation of its author.

Windsor, May 1st, 1822.




THE NARRATIVE, _&c._




CHAP. I.

DEPARTURE FROM ENGLAND, AND JOURNEY TO PARIS.


My friends expressed considerable surprise, when I announced my
actual determination to undertake a continental tour, and I believe
many of them, to the last moment, were inclined to doubt whether I
seriously intended it; they did not fail to question how I proposed,
with my personal defects, to make progress through a strange country,
unaccompanied by even a servant to assist and protect me, and with an
almost total ignorance of the languages of the various people I was about
to visit. I urged in reply, that the experience of more than twenty
years, during which I had been, as it were, a citizen of the world,
and a great part of which had been spent in foreign climes, would be
sufficient to direct me through the common occurrences and incidents, to
which the traveller is exposed; that for the rest, I was content to leave
it to God, upon whose protection, in the midst of dangers, I had the
most implicit reliance, and under whose providential guidance, I doubted
not to attain the completion of the various objects of my journey,
remembering, as Cowper happily expresses it, that

    “To reach the distant coast,
    The breath of Heaven must swell the sail,
    Or all our toil is lost.”

It may be difficult to say, under what description of traveller I
proposed to class myself. Sterne enumerates the following species of
the wandering tribe. “Idle travellers; inquisitive travellers; lying
travellers; proud travellers; vain travellers; splenetic travellers;
travellers of necessity; the delinquent and felonious traveller; the
unfortunate and innocent traveller; the simple traveller; and last of all
(if you please), the sentimental traveller.” Now I do not think any of
these titles strictly applicable to myself; I shall not, however, attempt
to determine the point, but leave it to the courteous reader to apply
that which he may consider most appropriate.

I reached Dover on the evening of the 14th of October, 1819, and on the
following morning embarked with a fair wind for Calais. This day is the
more remarkable to me, as being, in addition to the present incident, the
anniversary of my birth, as well as the same day of the year in which,
after my loss of sight, I first set out for Edinburgh, to commence a
course of studies at that celebrated university. In little more than
three hours we arrived off the harbour of Calais, when the tide not
answering for our making the pier, a boat came out for the mail, and I
availed myself of the opportunity of going on shore; for this earlier
accommodation I was charged five francs, a sum nearly equal to half the
fare across the channel.

Behold me, then, in France! surrounded by a people, to me, strange,
invisible, and incomprehensible; separated from every living being who
could be supposed to take the least interest in my welfare, or even
existence; and exposed to all the influence of national prejudice, which
is said to prompt this people to take every advantage of their English
neighbours. To counteract these disadvantages, I had nothing but the
common feelings of humanity, assisted by the once boasted _politesse_ of
the great nation, and which might be expected to operate in favour of an
afflicted stranger.

My commencement however proved auspicious, for I found an English
_valet-de-place_, or _commissionaire_, on the pier, who assisted me
through the ceremonials of the Custom-house, where they did me the favour
to take two francs as a remuneration for their trouble in inspecting my
luggage. He then conducted me to the Grand Cerf Hotel; and after I had
taken refreshment, went with me to facilitate my inquiries respecting
the diligences to Paris, for which place I proposed setting off on the
following morning. After this, we extended our walk through the town, and
visited the ramparts and banks of the canal to St. Omer.

On returning to the Hotel, I partook for the first time of a French
dinner; and, the commissionaire having left me, had the advantage of
being waited upon by Paul the _garçon_, who did not understand one word
of English; I had no little difficulty in getting through the routine
of this important repast. Afterward I repeated my walk through the
town, and on my return was surprised to learn that a person had been
enquiring for me. It proved to be the waiter of the Hotel where I had
breakfasted at Dover, who had crossed the channel in pursuit of a French
gentleman who had taken his breakfast at the same table with me, and
whom a friend of mine had endeavoured to interest in my favour. This
gentleman had received from the waiter a ten pound note in exchange
instead of a smaller one, and the latter was anxious to recover his lost
property. I was sorry that I could give him no satisfactory information,
for notwithstanding he had promised to shew me all possible attention
before leaving Dover, and even regretted he could not give me a place
in his carriage to Paris, he kept himself quite aloof after getting on
shipboard, so that in short I heard no more of him.

In the evening Virginie, the _fille de chambre_, attended to put me to
bed, and appeared literally to have expected to assist in the various
operations of disrobing, &c. I was, however, enabled, through the medium
of the commissionaire, to assure her, that it was quite unnecessary to
give her that trouble. So, dismissing my attendants with the candle, I
secured the door, and retired to rest.

In the morning I arose early, and inhaled the fresh breeze upon the pier,
a wooden structure, which extends itself for a considerable distance into
the sea. At the extremity near the town, is a pillar, erected by the
loyal people of Calais, in commemoration of the landing of Louis XVIII.
immediately after the first subjection of Napoleon, and near to it a
brass plate, with the figure of a foot cast in it, fixed upon the very
spot where this monarch first trod the French ground, after so long an
absence from his _affectionate_ subjects.

Breakfast was scarcely concluded, when it became necessary to take my
place in the diligence for Paris; I occupied a seat in the cabriolet,
which, in this coach, was unusually large, being sufficiently commodious
to accommodate six persons, and where I had the pleasure of finding two
of my countrymen, each with a son, proceeding to some school near Paris.

It may be worth while to mention, that upon the information of my
commissionaire, I had paid forty-five francs for my fare. This was indeed
the regular charge, but I have found, by taking advantage of certain
opposition carriages, the expense might have been materially lessened.
One of my companions, in fact, had bargained for forty francs for himself
and his son; and the other had secured his two places for thirty-five
only.

The usual hour for the departure of the diligence was ten o’clock; but we
anticipated this time, and set out at half-past nine, in consequence of
its being a fête day, when the gates of the town are closed from ten till
noon, during the performance of high mass.

About two o’clock we reached Boulogne, where we dined, and took into
our vacant place a journeyman bootmaker, who was going to Paris. We now
proceeded without stopping, except to change horses, until midnight, when
we reached Abbeville. On arriving at this place, the passengers in the
body of the coach, which, cumbrous as it was, had but two wheels, hastily
and unexpectedly jumping out, without apprising the cabriolet, the whole
weight of ourselves and the carriage was thrown forward, to such excess,
upon the backs of the horses, that, unable to sustain the pressure, they
sunk under it, and were with difficulty raised again.

We were at this place thankful for a refreshment of cold meat and wine,
as we had tasted nothing since leaving Boulogne, except some sour apples,
which our young gentlemen had knocked down on the sides of the road;
it was necessary, however, to disturb three or four houses before we
succeeded in procuring it.

The morning gave us “token of a goodly day.” At eleven o’clock we halted
for breakfast at Beauvais, and were apprised that an excellent one, _a la
fourchette_, was prepared at the hotel where our carriage rested; but the
party agreeing to give the preference to coffee, the bootmaker offered to
conduct us where we should get it both good and cheap. We consented to
follow him, and were regaled with a large bowl of coffee, with as much
milk, sugar, and toasted bread, as we pleased; for which they charged us
at the extraordinary rate of five sous per head.

At noon we pursued our journey, and at seven in the evening arrived at
Paris. When the business of the coach was arranged, the conducteur walked
with me to the Hotel de Suede, near the Palais-Royal, to which I had been
recommended.




CHAP. II.

PARIS.


While supper was in preparation, I walked to the Rue de la Paix, to call
upon a lady whom I had known in England, and was at first surprised to
learn, it being Sunday evening, that she was gone to a ball; but it is
the custom in France to participate in amusements on Sunday more than
on any other day in the week. It rejoiced me, however, to know, that my
friend was in Paris.

At supper, the _maitre d’hotel_, a Swede, but acquainted with the English
language, waited upon me himself, and enumerated with such encomiums
his fine stock of wine, that I could do no less than order a bottle of
Burgundy, which I found deliciously refreshing; and thought it economical
enough, as it was charged only two francs.

In consequence of the fatigue which I had experienced on my journey, I
was glad to retire early to bed. On entering my chamber, I could not
but be impressed by its cold comfortless feel; the floor was of stone,
the tables marble, the wash-hand basin long, oval, and shallow, like
an old fashioned salad dish, and all the furniture of correspondent
antiquity. But I had determined not to give way to gloomy reflections;
therefore, I wished my host a good night, and being left to myself, soon
regained that contented frame of mind, which is indispensable to those
who mean to pass smoothly, and happily, through this scene of mortality.
On the present occasion I convinced myself that I had every reason to be
grateful to that Power, which had so far conducted me in safety through
my journey, and whose blessings and mercies have been so largely, I may
say incessantly, extended over me.

A part of the succeeding morning was appropriated to calling upon friends
for whom I had letters. The one I first inquired for was gone to the
south of France; but I had the pleasure of meeting with my old shipmate
L⸺ and a friend of his, both of whom had been fellow students with me
in Edinburgh. I then repeated my visit to Miss L⸺, at whose house I had
called on the preceding evening, and found she had returned that call
during my absence; she expressed much surprise and pleasure at seeing me,
and engaged me to dine with her on the following day.

I returned to our table d’hôte dinner, and had the unexpected pleasure
of finding there a friend whom I had left in Bath the previous spring.
There was also another English gentleman at table, who invited me to walk
with him to the Palais-Royal. We accordingly took our coffee at one of
the numerous caffés, with which that quarter abounds. My companion was a
stranger in Paris as well as myself; in consequence of which we contrived
to lose our way, and had considerable difficulty in regaining our hotel;
we escaped, however, all the dangers, and _supercheries_, of this very
notorious place.

On Tuesday morning, my friend L⸺ called, for the express purpose of
accompanying me to inquire after the conveyances to Bordeaux. We were
informed, that two coaches leave Paris daily for that place; one at three
o’clock, from the Messagerie-Royal, running by way of Tours, where it
rests on the second night for a few hours, and occupying four days, and
as many nights, in the journey, the fare sixty francs; the other taking
the route of Orleans, five days on the road, and the fare fifty francs.
The former is considered the best appointed, and the roads and hotels,
with which it is connected, much preferable.

But, as it cannot fail to be irksome to travel three or four hundred
miles at one sitting, with the exception of the short rest at Tours, I
would recommend the English traveller to accomplish some part of his
journey in a voiture de voyage, and then rest for a day or two; or
perhaps he might, in the first instance, take a place in a regular coach,
termed a jumeaux, which travels to Tours in two days; after which the
journey may be prosecuted to Poitiers in a voiture or diligence, where
the chance must be taken of being carried forward to Bordeaux in the same
manner.

After this inquiry, I had to keep my appointment for dinner with Miss L⸺,
where I met a young lady, her niece, who resided with her, and Colonel
M⸺, a gentleman to whom my friend was on the point of marriage. I enjoyed
my visit much, but took leave at an early hour, under the promise of
breakfasting with her, at twelve in the morning, _a la fourchette_.

This lady was anxious that, instead of leaving Paris immediately for
Bordeaux, as I had intended, I should place myself for a week in a
boarding-house, with a view of gaining, before I commenced so long
a journey, some slight acquaintance with the French language. This
advice appeared so excellent, that I determined to follow it; and after
breakfast, Miss L⸺ was kind enough to accompany me to a house which she
recommended, and where I immediately took up my residence.

I should feel myself inexcusable, if I neglected, in this place, to
express the lively sense I entertain, of the many kind attentions,
which I received from this amiable lady, and which rather indicated the
affectionate regards of a sister, than the notices of an accidental
acquaintance. I regretted that this was the last opportunity I had of
seeing her in Paris, as she was obliged immediately to leave town for
Fontainbleau, and did not return before my departure.

    “Sweet friendship, solace of mankind,
    Come! with thy presence warm my heart,
    And when a kindred soul I find,
    Oh never, never let us part.
    They call thee changing, sordid, vain,
    On earth scarce known, and rare to see;
    And when they feel base treach’ry’s pain,
    They lay the heavy blame on thee.
    ’Tis true there are whom interest blind,
    That prostitute thy sacred name;
    Their souls to narrow views confined,
    They never felt thy noble flame.”

During the week I remained in Mr. Fetherstone’s boarding-house, the
weather was wet and cold, so that we were much confined within doors;
but as our party consisted of twenty individuals, there was no want of
amusement, and the continued intercourse necessarily kept up amongst
us, tended materially to promote my object of acquiring the language.
The following anecdote will serve to shew, how much I was in need of
improvement in this respect.

On the morning after my entrance into this family, I rang the bell of my
bed-chamber, and requested a French servant to bring me hot water; in
answer to this he replied, “_toute a l’heure_,” with the meaning of which
I was at the time totally ignorant: after waiting a quarter of an hour,
I rang again, and received the same reply, “_toute a l’heure_,” but with
no better result: I again repeated my application, it was still “_toute a
l’heure_:” at length, after, the lapse of an hour, he brought the water.
At breakfast, I took the opportunity of inquiring the signification of
this convenient expression, requesting to be informed, whether it implied
any specific time, when they told me it meant “immediately.” I thought,
however, in the present instance, that the action did not suit the word.

It may be expected, that I should make some remarks concerning the
Parisian theatres, and other places of amusement; however my ignorance of
the language, and want of vision, as well as the state of the weather,
diminished the ardour of the desires which I possessed, on entering
Paris, to visit these scenes; however, the many recent accounts that have
been published, leave me no cause to regret the omission. For similar
reasons I am prevented from attempting any description of this grand
city; and, therefore, in lieu of it, beg leave to offer the following
laconic and popular _petite chanson_.

    LE PORTRAIT DE PARIS.

    Amour; marriage; divorce;
    Naissance; mort; enterrement;
    Fausse vertu; brillante écorce;
    Petit esprit; grand sentiment;
    Dissipateurs; prèteurs sur gages;
    Hommes de lettres; financiers;
    Financiers; créanciers; maltotiers, et rentiers;
    Tiedes amis; femmes volages; riches galants;
    Pauvres maris. Voilà Paris! Voilà Paris!

    Là des commères qui bavardent;
    Là des viellards; là des enfans;
    Là des aveugles qui regardent
    Ce que leur donnent les passant;
    Restorateurs; apoticaires; commis; pedants;
    Taileurs; voleurs; rimailleurs, ferrailleurs;
    Aboyeurs; juges de paix, et gens de guerre;
    Tendrons vendu, quittè, repris.
    Voilà Paris! Voilà Paris!

    Maints gazetiers; maints impostures;
    Maints enneuyeux; maints ennuyés;
    Beaucoup de fripons en voitures;
    Beaucoup d’honnêtes gens à pied;
    Les jeunes gens portent lunettes;
    Le vieux visage rajeuni;
    Rajeunis bien garnis, bien garnis de vernis;
    Acteurs; ventes; marionettes; grand melodrames;
    Plats ecris. Voilà Paris! Voilà Paris!

The week now drawing to a close, I prepared to quit Paris; in particular,
I had my passport arranged, a point frequently attended with much
trouble, as it must in the first instance be procured from the police,
then presented for the signature of the English ambassador, after which
it is returned to the police, and some other office, for their definitive
signatures, before the individual is permitted to depart.




CHAP. III.

JOURNEY TO BORDEAUX.


Having engaged a place in the diligence, which took the way of Tours, in
the afternoon of the 27th of October, I commenced my journey to Bordeaux,
after bidding farewell

    “To the few, I might leave with regret.”

In order to guard against the same irregularity of meals, which I had
suffered from on my way to Paris, I took care to be provided with a
tongue, fruit, and a bottle of wine. My companions were three Frenchmen,
and of course I could anticipate little conversation, at least they
were sure soon to find me a dead letter; but notwithstanding, I doubted
not but that I should derive occupation and amusement from my own
reflections, and determined to avail myself of all the opportunities of
social intercourse which might offer themselves. As may be imagined,
the afternoon passed off very silently on my part: at night I contrived
to dose a little, and my companions accorded with me perfectly in this
respect.

On the following day we dined at Blois, where they gave us some of the
finest grapes I had yet partaken of in France. In the evening the weather
proved rainy; at midnight we arrived at Tours, from whence, after resting
a few hours, we proceeded on our journey at five o’clock in the morning;
at eight o’clock we halted at a small town for breakfast, where I derived
some gratification from meeting with a person who could speak English, an
Irish horse-dealer, travelling with his string of horses from Rochelle to
Paris.

We reached Poitiers for dinner, at the late hour of eight in the evening,
but my companions did not appear to be annoyed at this late postponement
of their favourite repast. It appears very immaterial to a Frenchman when
he gets his meals, he is not only _toujours prêt_, but endures fasting
with better grace by far than an Englishman. On the following day we
passed through Limoges and Angoulême. In the afternoon of this day, we
took up a woman and her daughter, aged about seventeen, with a child;
these were the only females I had yet met with in a diligence in France,
and I could not but feel irritated at the ungallant treatment they
received from their countrymen. The young lady having placed herself in
the seat of one of them, he very rudely insisted upon her restoring it:
I regretted that I was unable to advocate her cause: but possibly this
feeling might be dictated by some selfish motive, as a desire to resent
certain indignities to which I had been subjected by the same individual,
who frequently annoyed me with the fumes of his segar, and once had the
impudence to puff them in my face; I felt not a little inclined to give
him personal chastisement, but prudence restrained me.

About nine o’clock on the following morning, being Sunday, the 31st of
October, one of our company exclaimed, “_Voilà Bordeaux!_” The sound
revived me exceedingly, for I was become irritable and impatient, from
the length and fatigue of the journey. At twelve o’clock the coach
halted, and my fellow-passengers immediately jumped out, leaving me
to shift for myself. Of course I concluded that we had arrived at the
coach-office, and began to call loudly for the conducteur to come and
assist me in getting out. He immediately presented himself, uttered the
now well-known “_toute a l’heure_,” and left me. Although I perfectly
recollected the unlimited signification of this word in Paris, what
could I do? Had I jumped out, I should not have known what step to have
taken next, and the rain was falling in torrents. There appeared no
remedy, but to sit patiently until it might please some one to come to my
assistance. In a while I heard at least thirty people around the coach,
talking a loud and unintelligible gibberish, quite unlike any language
of the country which I had hitherto heard; soon afterwards I perceived
the carriage undergoing an extraordinary, and irregular kind of motion;
the people occasionally opened the door, and made me move from one side
to the other, as if they were using me for shifting ballast; I inferred
that they were taking off the wheels, with a view of placing the carriage
under cover. After this I became sensible of a noise of water splashing,
as if they were throwing it from out of hollows, where it had collected
in consequence of the rain. It was in vain that I endeavoured to gain
an explanation of my being thus left behind in the coach, the only
satisfaction I could derive was “_tout a l’heure_,” and the conviction
that nothing remained for me but to be patient.

    “But patience is more oft the exercise
    Of saints, the trial of their fortitude.”

At length the motion began to increase, and to my great surprise, after
an hour’s suspense, I heard the horses again attaching to the carriage;
the passengers re-entered the coach, and we once more proceeded on our
journey!

It was afterwards explained to me, that these unaccountable proceedings
arose, on our having arrived on the banks of the river Dordogne, which
enters the Garonne, near Bordeaux, from the necessity, at this point, of
transporting the carriage on a raft for some distance down the stream;
that the passengers had crossed the river in a ferry-boat, to a coach
waiting for them on the other side, leaving me to float down with the
carriage on the raft, or sink to the bottom as fate might determine; in
short, I found that, while I supposed myself sitting in the coach-office
yard at Bordeaux, I had actually travelled four miles by water, without
having entertained the least idea of such an adventure.

In a quarter of an hour after this, we actually arrived at the coach
office. On alighting, I was accosted by a man, who in the English
language informed me, that he was a traiteur (or the keeper of an eating
and lodging-house), and who did me the favour of recommending to me, in
very strong terms, both his house and his wife; the latter, he said, was
an American, spoke English well, and would provide me an excellent bed,
as well as every thing else I might wish for; but as I had a particular
introduction to a friend, I determined to decline these tempting offers,
until I had consulted him: taking the traiteur’s card therefore, and
requesting him to procure a hackney-coach, I drove straightway to the
house of my friend, who recommended me to take lodgings in preference. I
lost no time in adopting his suggestion, and taking immediate possession
of my apartments, experienced the great luxury and refreshment of
changing my dress, after four days’ uninterrupted travelling.

After this, my friend accompanied me to dine at a traiteur’s, first
bargaining that we should be allowed to select any four dishes from the
_carte_, for which, with a small bottle of wine, and _pain a discrétion_,
we were to pay about fifteen-pence each. In the first place, we were
served with soup in silver basins; then came an entré of ragoûts, and
afterwards a roast chicken, followed by a dessert. When we had done,
we gave the waiter three or four sous, with which he appeared highly
satisfied.

On the following morning, at the urgent instance of my friend, I
consulted an eminent oculist of this place, respecting my eyes, who
appeared to entertain the same opinion as most of my medical attendants
in England; namely, that a cataract existed, but not sufficiently
matured, to be operated upon, with advantage, for the present. My friend,
however, was not satisfied with this opinion, and insisted upon taking
me to the wife of an umbrella-maker, famous for her skill in restoring
sight, and who recommended a long course of herb medicines, and other
nostrums; but I wanted faith in her power to serve me, and moreover, was
satisfied with the opinions, in which my medical friends had concurred,
as well as reconciled to my deprivation, and resigned to the will of
Providence.

    “Who finds not Providence all good and wise,
    Alike in what it gives, and what denies.”—POPE.

My next attention, was to ascertain the modes of conveyance to Toulouse.
We found that the diligence sets out every other day at ten in the
morning, occupying two days, and two nights on the road, the fare
forty-five francs; there was, however, also a voiture from Paris, leaving
on the following morning, and which would be five days on the journey,
resting always at night; and by the recommendation of my friend, I
determined to give it the preference; in short, I was pleased with the
idea of this new mode of travelling. An agreement in writing was drawn
up, to which the proprietor affixed his signature, and according to
which, amongst other stipulations, I was to be taken up from my lodgings,
and provided, during my journey, with a bed-room to myself every night.
We were informed that an officer and his wife were to be of the party,
and the latter happening to be present, offered to render me every
assistance in her power; this, I must admit, was an additional inducement
with me, for the attentions of the softer sex are peculiarly acceptable
under my present affliction; and it is but a just tribute to their
kindness, to say, that I have abundantly experienced them; and farther,
I am convinced that the sympathy I have so often met with, is perfectly
congenial with the innate principles of the female character.

    “Man may the sterner virtues know,
    Determined justice, truth severe;
    But female hearts with pity glow,
    And woman holds affliction dear.”—CRABBE.




CHAP. IV.

JOURNEY TO TOULOUSE.


My stay in Bordeaux was too brief to enable me to acquire any knowledge
of this ancient and celebrated city, nor indeed, had it been prolonged,
do my inclinations, or powers, qualify me for topographical description;
the chief object of the present narrative, being to relate the incidents
of a journey, which at the time greatly interested me, and to give as
faithful representations of men and manners, as the opportunities which
presented themselves, and my personal disadvantages would admit of; in
short, to

    “Eye nature’s walks, shoot folly as it flies,
    And catch the manners living as they rise.”

I was apprised by a porter, at three o’clock, that the voiture was
in readiness, and after bustling to be in time, was by no means
pleased to find that I had been disturbed an hour too soon; nor was
my dissatisfaction diminished, when the porter, by signs, gave me to
understand, that I must traverse the greater part of the city with him
to the coach-office; it was in vain to remonstrate with a person who
could not understand me, and insist upon the fulfilment of my agreement;
at length, however, to cut short the argument, my conductor, with a
mixture of passion and impatience, seized my portmanteau, and gave me
to understand, that I had no alternative but to accompany him, or lose
my passage. In fine, I was obliged to submit, and after half an hour’s
walk, we reached the voiture in safety. The next measure was to place my
portmanteau in security, and which, unless I had interfered, would have
been exposed on the outside of the voiture. Travellers in France should
always superintend the stowage of their luggage, as it is not unusual to
have it stolen from the exterior of the carriage. Dr. O⸺, a gentleman,
whom I had the pleasure of meeting in the summer of 1820, at Aix in
Provence, in travelling from Lyons to Geneva, lost his trunk, containing
valuable collections he had made in Italy, and other property, worth some
thousand francs, from the outside of the diligence. He was induced to
commence an action against the proprietors, either to stimulate them to
recover his property, or to make them compensate his loss; but finding
that, after a tedious and expensive process, the utmost he could recover,
would be a thousand francs, he thought it most prudent to abandon it.

At length our arrangements being completed, the voiturier made the
customary signal with his whip, and we bade adieu to Bordeaux.

One of the earliest, and most obvious attentions of the traveller in
a public stage, is to reconnoitre his companions, and endeavour to
ascertain whether it be possible to elicit information or amusement
from them; the group with which I was now thrown into collision, was
not unlikely to be productive of interest; I was soon convinced, from
the nature of their conversation, that my companions were not of the
genteelest stamp. The women were at home in speaking patois, and the
only one who could not join in this, was the person who, I suppose from
his wearing a large cocked-hat, had been taken for an officer, but who,
I afterwards found, had been a bootmaker in one of Bonaparte’s cavalry
regiments.

At ten o’clock we halted, and were regaled with a breakfast _a la
fourchette_, consisting of soup bouillè, ragoûts, roasted fowls, and
little birds; the compliments of the table were paid me; my companions
did not sit down until I had nearly finished; and the voiturier placed
himself by my side, serving me with every dish as it was brought in,
and appearing to expect me to partake of all of them. I confined myself
chiefly to the soup and rôti; the little birds would have relished well,
had not a slice of bacon placed on the breast of each, destroyed their
natural flavour.

At one o’clock we recommenced our journey, and at six in the evening,
reached our resting place for the night. After a delay of two hours,
a profuse supper was served up in regular courses, and concluded by a
dessert of grapes, pruins, apples, pears, nuts, and small sponge cakes. I
was not a little surprised at their mode of cooking a cauliflower which I
had inquired for; after a great many “_toute a l’heure’s_,” it made its
appearance, boiled as soft as batter, and mixed up with oil, vinegar, and
pepper, like a salad!

The wine was excellent, and the glass circulated freely. Who thought I,
would not travel in a voiture, to live thus cheerily, and at so trifling
an expense, for it will scarcely appear credible, that the proprietor
had engaged to convey me to Toulouse, a distance of one hundred and
twenty-five miles, occupying five days on the journey, and providing me
with every necessary, beds included, for thirty-five francs, equal to
about five shillings and ten pence English money per day!

Our supper party consisted of nine or ten persons, not indeed of the most
select kind, but I had no right to complain, as with a view of avoiding
trouble, and imposition, and at the same time, with some prospect of
deriving gratification from the _melange_ of characters I expected to
meet with, I had engaged to put up with the general fare.

My companions appeared to enjoy their repast, and every additional glass
evidently produced increased animation, as they talked louder and faster.
They were, however, particularly attentive to myself, my want of sight
probably exciting their sympathy.

At length, fatigued with the scene, I gave them to understand that I
wished to retire, and was conducted to a chamber which was furnished
with several beds, and had the pleasure of finding the one that had been
selected for my repose, good and commodious. But an important dilemma
now presented itself: taking the _fille-de-chambre_ by the hand, in
order to ascertain that she was carrying the candle away with her, a
point I am always particular in attending to, as, when it has been left
behind, I have occasionally burnt my fingers, and once even made an
extinguisher of my chin; and then making a motion to lock her out, that I
might, according to the especial clause in my agreement to that effect,
appropriate the room entirely to myself, I was surprised to find her
as strenuously oppose this measure, as most of the fair sex, I have no
doubt, would an attempt to lock them in. It was useless endeavouring to
comprehend her meaning, and only by returning to the supper-room, did I
learn, that the room in question, was intended for the accommodation of
the whole party. It is not easy to conceive the confusion which ensued,
on my evincing a steady determination not to pass the night by the side
of the conducteur, or even the ladies of our party; I persisted, however,
in my resolution, and folding my arms, and closing my eye-lids, reclined,
in the posture of repose, in a large easy chair in which I happened to be
placed.

At length, the bootmaker’s wife, taking me by the hand, conducted me to a
single-bedded room, from which, after having assisted in my arrangements,
and warmed my bed, she permitted me to lock her out.

I cannot but express myself grateful, for the interest this kind-hearted
woman evinced in my favour, on the present occasion; but this is not the
only time, that I have been indebted for support and success, to a fair
advocate.

At four in the morning we were summoned by the conducteur, and the
soldier’s wife kindly came to assist me down stairs. The party were
assembled in the parlour, and fortifying themselves, against the
fatigues of the day, with bread and brandy, but I gave the preference
to some grapes. At eleven, we halted for breakfast, and, according to
the usual custom, rested two hours in the middle of the day; after
this we pursued our journey, the conducteur mounting under cover in
front of the voiture, to protect him from the rain, which was falling
heavily. About three o’clock, while proceeding so quietly, that it might
almost be presumed, that not only the conducteur and his passengers,
but the horses themselves were fast asleep, we were aroused by the
very interesting incident of our whole equipage, including the horses,
being overturned into a deep ditch. I shall not attempt to describe the
noise and confusion which succeeded; the party were almost frantic with
terror; at length, having succeeded in extricating ourselves from this
unpleasant situation, I was placed for shelter under a large tree, while
the rest assisted the conducteur in raising up the coach and horses. This
operation took up half-an-hour, during which, I could hear our guide
contributing abundantly, both with his whip and imprecations.

Fortunately no serious injury was sustained, and I felt strong reason
to congratulate myself, for I had heard in the morning, that we were to
cross the Garonne this afternoon, and my first impression was, that we
were falling into this river; nor had I forgotten my adventures on the
Dordogne.

The carriage being at length righted, the conducteur urged forward his
jaded horses with little mercy, probably stimulated by revenge for the
late occurrence, which was mainly attributable to his own negligence.
At six o’clock we crossed the Garonne, and in consequence of delays and
accidents, did not arrive at our _auberge_ until eight o’clock, when we
dispatched a hasty supper, and retired to bed. I here found the advantage
of my resolution on the preceding evening, having an undisputed bed-room
to myself.

We resumed our journey at the usual hour in the morning. Before we set
out, the conducteur requested me to advance him a part of his fare, and
which I believe is usual, if not generally necessary, as these people
are so miserably poor, that, otherwise, they would be unable to bear the
unavoidable expenses of the journey; but in my case, as it was agreed
that he should be paid by my banker, on my safe arrival at Toulouse, he
had no right to expect the indulgence. This arrangement had been adopted
from my wish to have it supposed that I was travelling without money,
notwithstanding, I had the precaution, as a resource against accidents,
not only to have a few napoleons in my portmanteau, but also some in a
girdle round my waist, so that I had a double chance of not being left
destitute.

In the present case, in order to put this surly fellow into good humour,
I thought well to advance him a couple of five franc pieces, but without
producing the effect I had anticipated; for finding myself suffering
from headach, which I attributed to want of due exercise, I made signs
for him to halt, while I might get out of the coach, with the intention
of walking for a time; he only, however, replied, with much coolness,
“_toute a l’heure_;” and notwithstanding my repeated request, was quite
indisposed to accommodate me, until I manifested my intention of jumping
out: he now thought well to stop his horses, and proffer his assistance;
however, I refused it, and succeeded in finding the back part of the
coach, where I secured my hold by means of a piece of cord (which when
travelling I make a rule to carry always in my pocket), and which, in
the present instance, served me as a leading string; I then followed,
in this way, on foot for several miles, to the no small amusement of
the villagers, who laughed heartily, and even shouted after me. I had,
however, the satisfaction of getting rid of my headach, and succeeded in
completely tiring myself. We did not reach our breakfast point before two
o’clock, and proceeding again at four, arrived proportionately late at
the end of the day’s journey.

The succeeding morning proved remarkably fine, and we prosecuted our
journey with additional pleasure. I found the conducteur more humble, and
my companions, in general, more attentive to me than usual. The advantage
I had derived from exercise on the preceding day determined me to walk
again, and the bootmaker civilly offered me his arm. After proceeding
some distance, he proposed entering a wine-shop, to which I assented;
we tried three, however, before we found any wine to our taste: in
consequence of the time thus lost, the voiture got considerably the start
of us, so that we were obliged to exert ourselves to regain it.

On producing our wine, the provision-bags were also brought forward;
we became merry as gypsies, and my cocked-hat friend particularly
facetious. Soon after one o’clock, we arrived, in high glee, at our
breakfasting-place, where we found a voiture full of students, on their
way to the university of Toulouse. These young gentlemen paid me a marked
attention during our repast, assisting me liberally to the produce of the
table, and replenishing my glass before it was empty. When the voiture
was ready, I walked forward with the soldier’s wife, who appeared a
far more respectable woman, than from her situation in life might have
been expected. I now learnt, partly by words, and partly by signs, the
situation and circumstances of her husband; that subsequently to the
peace, he had attempted to support himself in Germany by his trade; but
difficulties arising, he was removing to Toulouse, her native place, in
hopes of proving more successful.

In the course of our walk, we ascended a considerable hill, from which,
my companion informed me, the prospect was most extensive and beautiful.
The air at this spot I found so soft, balmy, and exhilarating, that I
felt assured I had now reached the south of France. After crossing a
river, at seven o’clock we reached our quarters for the evening. The
students had preceded us, and in consequence of their occupying the
attention of the house, we had to wait a long time for our supper.

On the following morning we resumed our journey in high spirits, from
the prospect of arriving at Toulouse in the evening. We reached Agen for
breakfast, which I understood to be a very fine city: I was at this place
so much charmed with the manners and attentions of some young ladies at
the inn, that I admit I did not depart without regret. Had I the same
talents for acquiring languages, as Joseph Scaliger, who was a native
of this place, possessed, I might by this time have known sufficient of
the French to have benefitted by the agreeable conversation of these
ladies. At six in the evening we entered Toulouse, and were set down at a
miserable inn, termed the Three Mules.

While our supper was getting ready, I went, under protection of the
soldier’s wife, to call upon Mrs. W⸺, a lady who had kindly offered to
assist in procuring me a reception, for the winter, in some respectable
French family. I was fortunate enough to find her at home; when she
expressed much surprise at the manner in which I had travelled so far,
and informed me, that preparatory arrangements had been made for my
residence in the family of Colonel du B⸺. In returning to the inn we
experienced some embarrassment; for my conductress had been so long
absent from her native city, that we had much difficulty, in consequence
of the narrowness and intricacy of the streets, in finding our way back
to the inn.

After supper I was conducted to one of the most comfortless rooms
that could be imagined; every thing felt so damp, so antiquated, and
dusty: some of the chairs were without legs, others without backs; and
the windows were broken: but as there was no remedy, I was obliged to
make the best of it, and congratulated myself on having reached my
destined winter residence, and thus far, negatived the doubts, and kind
apprehensions of my friends.




CHAP. V.

TOULOUSE.


On the following morning, Mr. F⸺, a friend of Mrs. W⸺’s, called upon
me, to state the full particulars of the arrangements for my reception
into the family of Colonel du B⸺, to whom I was to be introduced on the
morrow; and in the evening, this kind lady sent two gentlemen to conduct
me to her residence, when I had the pleasure of being introduced to a
small circle of her acquaintance.

In the morning, Mr. F⸺ called upon me, in company with Colonel du B⸺,
when it was settled, that I was to become an inmate, in the family of
the latter, on the following day. These gentlemen did me the favour to
settle for my journey with the voiturier, and gave him a severe reprimand
for his want of humanity; and I took the opportunity of convincing the
soldier’s wife, who was present, of my sense of her kindness.

I now soon found myself happily situated in the house of Colonel du
B⸺, with whom I proposed to remain, until the approach of spring might
invite me to pursue my tour, and under the expectation, in the interim,
of improving my health, and acquiring a knowledge of the French language.
The former point was admirably promoted by the kind attentions, and
domestic arrangements, of Madame du B⸺; the latter would not fail to
result from so extended a residence in a family wholly unacquainted with
English, and where necessity, and the force of habit, must concur in
instructing me. I cannot, however, but acknowledge the patient assistance
which I received from the whole family; and my views were also promoted
by a pretty regular attendance on the lectures delivered at the royal
college of this place.

Our domestic circle consisted of M. and Madame du B⸺, their two sons
and daughters, with the father and a sister of Madame B⸺. Madame B⸺ was
what, in England, we should call a notable woman, who superintended
personally the arrangements of housekeeping. The colonel possessed a
mechanical taste, which with reading constituted his leading pursuit; he
was a hearty feeder, with, however, a supposed indifferent appetite; for
instance, he would breakfast, about noon, upon an immense quantity of
bread and cold meat, hard dried sausages, or rich _fromage de cochon_,
with a large bottle of wine, and afterward complain of a disinclination
for his dinner.

But perhaps the more interesting feature of the family group, was
Mademoiselle la Sœur. This lady, somewhat advanced beyond the noontide
of life, was a diminutive woman, with one eye, and largely attached to
the charms of _tabac_, which contributed to give her voice a strong nasal
tone; but in addition to this _penchant_ for snuff, she enjoyed also the
pleasures of the table; was fond of high-seasoned dishes, onions, garlic,
and wine; her converse was of the merry kind; she was fond of whispering
into one’s private ear; and with these talents, seemed also wonderfully
adapted for sociality, as she cultivated a large circle of acquaintance
in the town, and made it a rule to return with a whole budget full of
news for our amusement.

Toulouse, in point of extent, is considered the third town in France,
but in proportion to that extent, far less populous than many other of
its cities: it possesses some good public buildings, as well as modern
private houses, but the general appearance is very antiquated; the
streets are narrow and dirty, and what is a great annoyance in walking
along them, when it rains you are almost sure to be spouted upon from the
tops of the houses, in consequence of pipes sticking out to conduct the
water towards the middle of the streets.

There are in this city some good squares, particularly the Place Royal,
in which are situated the town-house and theatre; the Place St. George;
the Place St. Stephen, containing the cathedral; and also the Place de
Bourbon, which with its neighbourhood is the more eligible point for the
residence of a stranger.

Some of the walks around the town are very fine, but the access to them
unpleasant, in consequence of the offensive smells proceeding from the
narrow streets in their vicinity; this is particularly the case as you
approach the fine bridge over the Garonne.

Lodgings, such as they are, are reasonable, and the necessaries of life,
of all kinds, abundant, good, and cheap. The town is supplied with water
from the river; this indispensable article being carted about in casks
through the streets at all hours. The stranger will also notice a number
of asses, which are driven about the town, to supply invalids with their
milk.

I declined participating much in the society of the place, but both the
French and English residents are sociably inclined. It is not, however,
the fashion among the former, to make morning visits, or give dinner
parties, but their houses are open for their friends every evening, and
on appointed nights they visit in large parties, and amuse themselves
with conversation, singing, cards, or dancing.

A theatre was open during a part of the winter, and we had two or
three public concerts, as well as a variety of private ones by amateur
performers, particularly during the season of the carnival, which
finished on the 14th of February, and exhibited all its usual variety of
masks, grotesque characters, and buffoonery; these concerts were only
given on the Sunday afternoon.

There are a few customs, and points of etiquette, which it may be
interesting to notice.

When a stranger arrives at Toulouse, and wishes to enter into society, he
leaves his card with the prefect, who, after returning his call, sends
him invitations to the public parties, which he gives once or twice in
the week, when he has the opportunity of seeing the best company of the
place.

On new-years-day, it is the custom (although I believe the same is
common to most parts of the continent) to call on all friends, and
present the ladies with fruits, toys, trinkets, or _bon-bons_, under
some ingenious deceptions, and which it is generally expected, will be
accompanied by a salute; therefore if you have an extensive acquaintance,
it is indispensable to set out, at an early hour, loaded with smiles,
compliments, and presents.

I scarcely feel competent to speak of the various ceremonies of the
Gallican church here, but when an Englishman dies, it is customary to
send the following notice, to the various residents from his country,
requesting their attendance at the funeral.

    “M⸺

    _Vous êtes prié par M⸺ et M⸺ de leur faire l’honneur d’assister
    à l’inhumation de M⸺ qui aura lieu le ⸺ à ⸺ heure du ⸺. Le
    convoi sortira de sa maison d’habitation._

                                                       _Pax illi ⸺”_

There is only one burial ground for Protestants, at Toulouse, situated at
some distance from the city.

Early in February, the news arrived of the death of our late venerable
and beloved king; the intelligence was received by the English in this
place, with every possible mark of respect, and a public mourning
immediately took place.

Soon afterward, the city of Toulouse was thrown into a high state of
consternation, in consequence of the assassination of the Duc de Berri;
the imaginations of the inhabitants recurred to the sanguinary scenes
of the French revolution, in which this town had no small share, and
anticipated a return of its horrors. After this event, the following
invitation was addressed to the various English residents:

                     _“Eglise reformée de Toulouse.
                Nos tres chers frères en Jesus Christ._

    _Vous avez tous gémis sur l’horrible attentat commis sur la
    personne de S. A. R. Monseigneur Le Duc de Berri, attentat
    qui a privé la France et l’auguste famille des Bourbons,
    de leur espoir le plus précieux; nous vous invitons à vous
    rendre vendredi 24 de ce mois, à onze heure du matin, dans le
    temple, pour exprimer, devant Dieu, la vive douleur que nous en
    èprouvons._

                                  _Les Membres du Consistoire.
                                  CHABRAND, President, &c. &c. &c.”_

    _Toulouse, le 22 Mars, 1820._

This city abounds with beggars, many of them objects of real charity; as
it is impossible that persons with limited incomes, can afford a sous for
each, it is not unusual to give them one, and take change out of it.

The winter proved unusually severe; from the middle of November to the
end of December, it continued wet; from this time to the latter part of
February, it was excessively cold; and at the end of January, the ground
was covered with snow for a fortnight together. For an uninterrupted
week, during some part of the twenty-four hours, Fahrenheit’s thermometer
stood at from 9° to 11° below Zero. The Garonne for the first time for
thirty years, was frozen over, the ice being found to the thickness of
nine inches. The end of March, and beginning of April, however, became so
fine and warm in the middle of the day, as to make walking irksome.

I now began to contemplate breaking up my winter quarters, in order to
proceed to Montpellier. On inquiry, I found two modes of conveyance to
this place, one by the Grand Canal de Languedoc, the other by diligence;
and having made my arrangements for being conveyed by the latter, I
prepared, on the 13th of April, to bid adieu to Toulouse.

I must not, however, leave this city, without paying a due tribute of
respect to the worthy family with whom I have been resident, whose
innumerable acts of kindness, and attention to a whimsical invalid, will
ever claim his gratitude.

But let me not exclude my English friends from this expression of
feeling. Mrs. W⸺ and Miss S⸺ are, in particular, entitled to my sincerest
acknowledgments; and who were not only the first to receive me at
Toulouse, but the last to take leave of me. They will ever retain a place
in the recollections of a grateful heart.




CHAP. VI.

MONTPELLIER.


We left Toulouse in the afternoon, and travelling during the whole night,
reached Narbonne on the following day for dinner; at nine o’clock in
the evening we halted for a short time at Beziers, where we were left,
under cover from a heavy rain, in a kind of stable-yard, while our
conducteur transacted some business in the town. After this we again
proceeded throughout the night, and at day-break arrived in sight of the
Mediterranean Sea, afterward reaching Montpellier about ten o’clock.

On leaving the coach, I accompanied a gentleman with whom I had been
acquainted at Toulouse, and who had been a fellow-traveller on the
present occasion, to his lodgings in this town; but on his arrival, he
met with the following disappointment. During his absence, on legal
business, he had permitted some friends to occupy his rooms, one of whom
happened to die in his best chamber. Now it is customary in France, on
such an occasion, to burn the bedding and other furniture, and in case
of this happening in lodgings, the friends of the deceased are expected
to pay for them; the charge, in the present instance, was eight hundred
francs, and the furniture had not been replaced; my friend, therefore,
was induced to provide himself with fresh rooms: formerly this was not
the only tax upon the property of a foreigner who died in France, for by
the _droit d’Aubaine_, which has only been abolished since the return of
Louis XVIII., his whole property became confiscated to the King, under
the erroneous idea that it must have been acquired in his dominions.

For the first three days, I lived with this gentleman at his lodgings,
having however my sleeping-room at the Hotel de Midi; after which time,
I had the good fortune to place myself in the family of Madame the
Countess de M⸺, who occupied a noble mansion, agreeably situated near the
town, replete with every convenience, and comprising beautiful gardens,
embellished with terrace walks, fountains, and a _bosquet_, where, to my
surprise, the nightingale sang all day long. For some reason or other,
Madame found it convenient to dispose of a part of her house; one portion
was occupied by two French officers with their families, and another by
a Russian officer. The suites of apartments were, however, perfectly
distinct, and there was little intercourse between the above and her own
family, which inhabited the better part of the house, and consisted of
herself, two daughters, and a relative, M. de C⸺.

I was exceedingly happy in this family, and with the friend who
accompanied me from Toulouse, made various excursions into the
surrounding neighbourhood; we particularly enjoyed the walks on the
banks of the river and lake, where the air was much cooler and more
agreeable, than on the road, at this time becoming dusty and troublesome.
The scenery, about two or three miles from the city, is said to be
romantically beautiful. On our return, we used, occasionally, to take a
warm bath, which was peculiarly refreshing, and with respect to which,
I noticed a luxury, which I had never before remarked,—namely, a clean
sheet thrown over the surface of the bath, which you descend into, and
are enveloped in.

There are also some delightful public walks about the town, as the
Perût, whence is a view of the Mediterranean, and Cevennes mountains;
the esplanade; and the botanic gardens. The city is also surrounded
by boulevards, of which I was able to make the tour in forty minutes.
The markets at Montpellier are well supplied with meats and fish of
all kinds; with poultry, vegetables, and fruits in abundance. The _vin
ordinaire_ of the country, is termed vin de St. George, which is good,
and full bodied, and sold from the cask as low as five or six sous
the full quart bottle, although, after bottling and refining, the wine
merchant charges twenty sous for a small wine quart. There is, however,
another sort, termed vin de Lednon, which is lighter, but highly
flavoured, and consequently more estimated, selling at thirty sous the
bottle. A variety of other wines may also be procured.

Montpellier has a theatre, to which it is singular that the officers in
the garrison here, are obliged to subscribe, whether they attend it or
not; besides the above, there are a great variety of other amusements.

Madame de M⸺, and her eldest daughter, went one evening to a ball given
by general B⸺, where the young lady had the fortune to make a conquest
of an officer, with whom she danced; on the following day he paid her a
visit, and shortly after made his proposals in form, which were accepted;
after this, according to the custom of that part of the country, he was
considered as one of the family, which was an additional pleasure to me,
as he was a sensible gentleman-like companion. The marriage, however, did
not take place until after my departure from Montpellier.

This love affair leads me to relate an affecting, romantic, and even
tragical incident, which occurred in the family of Madame M⸺, during my
residence with her.

Her youngest daughter, Clementine, was a lovely girl, about seventeen
years of age; but, alas! it is impossible that I can do justice to
charms which it was forbidden me to behold! A young gentleman one day
walking accidently near the house, observed this interesting girl leading
a goat, tied with a string, over a rising ground, near the bosquet;
struck with her beauty and simplicity, his imagination took fire, and a
passion the most ardent possessed his soul; his constant delight was to
wander near the spot which contained the object of his affections, and
amply was he repaid, when he could thus steal a glimpse of her beloved
form. But he was soon compelled to tear himself away to prosecute his
studies in Paris; her image pursued him, and dwelt incessantly within
his mind; and he returned to Montpellier with unabated affection. The
diffidence so characteristic of pure and ingenuous love, prevented him,
for a time, from declaring his passion; at length, however, he summoned
sufficient resolution to demand an interview with the countess, but as
he refused to send up his name and object, she declined seeing him; in a
while he repeated the call, declaring that he had something particular
to communicate, but still refusing to give his name; the countess
consequently again refused to see him, but sent Clementine to inquire the
nature of his business.

Those who know how to love, may imagine his sensations, on finding the
object of his ardent passion, thus unexpectedly placed before him;
his perturbation amounted to a stupid confusion; he was incapable of
utterance; and the unconscious maid left him without receiving the least
explanation. His only consolation was now to repeat his wanderings around
her habitation. One night I was myself alarmed by the sound of footsteps
under my window, and for some time laboured under the impression, that
an attempt was making upon the house. It was the unfortunate lover; who
frequently spent whole nights around the spot, where he first saw his
adored mistress.

On the morning of the 24th of June, I was disturbed from my sleep, by the
sound of many persons talking in the house and garden, in a manner which
convinced me that something dreadful had occurred; I immediately hurried
on my clothes, and hastened to ascertain the cause, when, on opening the
door of my room, which led into the hall, Mademoiselle de M⸺ instantly
advanced towards me in tears, exclaiming, in the most pitiful tone,
that a gentleman had killed himself in the garden, and then proceeding
with the following relation: That her mother having risen early for the
purpose of bathing, while the bath was in preparation, had walked into
the garden in company with M. de C⸺, who was just returned from a party
in the town, with whom he had been passing the preceding night; that, at
this juncture, they saw through some bushes, a gentleman sitting on the
grass, and whom she was on the point of approaching to accost, when he
rose up, took out a large knife, and plunged it into his breast. M. de
C⸺ immediately sprang across the path, exclaiming, “Mon Dieu! Mon ami,
why have you done this!” The only reply from the unfortunate man was,
“Clementine! Clementine!” The countess ran to procure assistance, and
the whole house was soon in confusion. The most sympathizing inquiries
were made into the motives for committing so rash a deed, when, exhausted
with loss of blood, he exclaimed, “Ah! Clementine! for you I die! I feel
you can never be mine, nor can I live without you!” He was now conveyed
to a neighbouring house; a surgeon and the police officers soon arrived;
the former reported, that the knife had been turned aside by a rib, but
that he was in imminent danger. The police officer then proceeded in his
duty, emptying his pockets, and conveying their contents to the Bureau.
A letter was found, directed to Madame de M⸺, with another enclosed for
Clementine, and I was informed they were both written with very great
propriety, and expressive of his unhappy passion.

I quitted Montpellier a week after this event, at which time, the
unfortunate lover continued in a hopeless state.

Both as sources of amusement and instruction, I frequently attended the
lectures on chemistry, mineralogy, and botany, at the college, and had
reason to feel gratified by the general attention paid me, both by the
professors and students. Montpellier appears a most desirable situation
for prosecuting a course of study, as it abounds with excellent public
lectures, literary societies, and good libraries. In short, it must be
an agreeable winter’s residence under any circumstances,—to those who
wish to be gay, it offers a continual routine of balls, plays, and other
amusements, public as well as private; and the valetudinarian will find
as pure air, and agreeable walks and rides, as he can desire.

The time I had allotted for my residence at this delightful place, was
now drawing to a close, and having provided a fresh supply of Herries
and Farquhar’s notes, from my punctual and obliging bankers in London, I
prepared to proceed to Aix in Provence, where I proposed to bathe for
the remainder of the summer, staying a few days only at Nismes, on my way.

I shall avail myself of this opportunity of recommending to travellers
the superior advantages of Herries and Farquhar’s notes, in preference to
letters of credit, and which I cannot do better than state in their own
words.

“The object of this plan is to supply travellers with money, whenever
they may require it, without there being any necessity of determining the
route beforehand. For this purpose, a correspondence is established with
all the principal places of Europe. The traveller is furnished with a
general letter or order, addressed to the different agents of the house,
which letter, while it serves to identify him, gives a claim to any
attention or good offices he may stand in need of.”

A variety of clear and explicit arrangements are made, to facilitate
the immediate supplies of the traveller, whenever he may need them; and
excellent precautions adopted, to prevent forgeries, impositions, and
the extravagant expenses, commissions, and discounts, which attend the
negotiation of bills on merchants’ houses.




CHAP. VII.

NISMES.


A short time before my departure from Montpellier, I had the misfortune
to sprain my ancle, which abridged materially my usual pleasure of
walking, but did not prevent me pursuing my original intention of
proceeding to Aix.

M. de C⸺ was kind enough to accompany me to the coach, and, with the
best possible motives, recommended me to the care of the passengers
and conducteur, but which I must admit I would rather have declined,
as it disarmed me of that independence I wished to feel; I fancied it
was placing me in the light of a school-boy; or perhaps of a package of
“_Glass.—Keep this side uppermost._” I would prefer being treated with
the little ceremony of a woolpack, which by its accommodating elasticity,
not only avoids injury from slighter contact, but under more decided
and ruder pressure, becomes so solid, so confirmed, so compact, as
effectually to oppose additional restraint, and probably at length by its
innate powers, to throw off the superincumbent weight, and immediately
regain its original state; in short, I find less difficulty, and
inconvenience, in travelling amongst strangers, than people imagine, and
prefer being left to my own resources; habit has given me the power of
acquiring, by a kind of undefinable tact, as correct ideas of objects as
the most accurate descriptions would give; and unbiassed by the opinions
of others, I feel more facility in forming my estimates of human nature.

After an unpleasant journey, owing to the heat of the weather and fulness
of the coach, and passing through the neat town of Lunelle, famous for
its wines, we arrived about noon at Nismes, where I took up my residence
at a traiteur’s, in a particularly airy situation near the esplanade;
this situation I felt of importance, as from its position on an extensive
plain, this city suffers intolerably from the heats of summer.

On the following day, being Sunday, I attended divine service at one of
the Protestant churches, in company with Mrs. and Miss L⸺, with whom
I had previously been acquainted at Toulouse and Montpellier; we were
shewn into the corporation seat, and I am afraid gave much trouble to its
proper occupiers, who, with great politeness, incommoded themselves to
accommodate us. We were much pleased with the discourse of the preacher,
as well as the indications of devotion on the part of the congregation.

Nismes abounds with Protestants, who indeed constitute a large
proportion of its more industrious and opulent population; a circumstance
to which the sanguinary political scenes, of which it has so frequently
been the theatre, are to be attributed. The Roman religion has
undoubtedly a tendency to check the energetic industry of its professors,
by the encouragement which its numerous fêtes give to habits of
amusement, idleness, and dissipation; and, alas! it is too correspondent
with the dispositions of fallen human nature, for rapine and fraud to
spring out of such vitiated soil, and avail themselves of the advantages
attained by honest industry.

But far be it from me, to decry the importance of religious observances,
and rational relaxation from the toils of suffering humanity; or to
throw the least censure on that admirable and divine institution, which,
according to our admired Spectator, rubs off the rust of the preceding
week, and leads the poor man to a close acquaintance with his best
friend. The institutions of catholicism, or rather papalism, are in
this respect essentially contradictory to the divine command, which has
solemnly declared, amidst the awful denunciations of Mount Sinai,—“Six
days shalt thou labour; but the seventh day is the sabbath of the Lord
thy God;” for who of its more strict professors does not pay as much
religious observance to the fifth day, as to the one indicated by the
merciful Creator.

While at Nismes, my ancle proved extremely painful, and I felt otherwise
indisposed, so as to be incapable for a time of taking my usual walks;
I was, in consequence, induced to consult a French apothecary, who had
talked me into a favourable opinion of his skill, by expatiating, in what
I considered a philosophical way, upon the virtues of his medicines.
I was, consequently, placed upon a course of _ptisan refraichissant_,
without which French practice would be at a loss, but which, begging the
pardon of this French Æsculapius, although it might do very well in mild
cases, I should be loath to intrust my safety to in a desperate one,
where nature might possibly want urging forward, or severe correction,
rather than treating with such a complaisance; so much for my smattering
of physic: but, notwithstanding, I must do my _apoticaire_ the justice
to admit, that with the aid of his ptisan, and other means, I was in a
few days sufficiently improved to be able to resume, in some measure, my
customary walks.

Nismes, originally the Nemausum of the Romans, is a city of considerable
antiquity, of which sufficient remains are still to be found, to attest
its former grandeur.

I visited some of these august remains, particularly the celebrated
amphitheatre, built in the Tuscan order, of such size as to have been
capable of containing twenty thousand spectators. It is considered one
of the finest monuments of antiquity, and has survived the ravages of
nearly twenty centuries. I had also that exquisite piece of Corinthian
architecture described to me, now termed the _Maison Quarrée_, which
exhibits some of the most beautiful specimens of architecture still
existing, and which had been supposed by many to have been built by the
Emperor Hadrian, a great benefactor to this city, but by an inscription,
discoverable to that effect, is now proved to have been erected by the
good people of Nismes in honour of the two young princes, Caius and
Lucius Cæsar, grandsons of Augustus, by his daughter Julia, the wife of
Agrippa.

A number of peculiar large square basins, which the common people use
to bathe in, are to be seen at Nismes, near the public walk named the
_Coursè_; they are placed at equal distances from each other, and formed
by enlargements of a canal that runs through them, the water supplying
which, issues from under the rock on which the castle stands; after
passing through these reservoirs, the stream is conducted, by pipes and
smaller canals, throughout the town, and converted to different purposes
of economy and manufacture.

Anxious for the benefit I expected to derive from the waters of Aix,
I hastened my departure from Nismes on the 11th of July. I had only
a single companion in the diligence, an interesting young student of
seventeen or eighteen years of age, on his way from college to meet some
friends at Beaucaire, and as highly delighted with his emancipation from
scholastic trammels, as a young midshipman at going on shore after a
long cruise. At one place we took a glass of liqueur together, and on
my offering to pay for it, he laughed at me, and said I was joking. At
eight o’clock we reached Beaucaire, where he left me. At this place great
preparations were making for the annual fair, which lasts about three
weeks, and is of much importance, as merchants attend it from all parts
of Europe.

We here crossed the Rhone on a bridge of boats, and proceeded through
Tarrascon. At midnight we stopped for supper, when a cold chicken being
produced, the conducteur contrived to dispose, with great celerity, of
the larger part of it, leaving only a leg and wing for my share; after
this, a most exorbitant demand was made upon me, being charged with the
whole fowl, and the bottle of wine, although I had only shared a couple
of glasses of the latter; but following the example of my young friend
the student, I joked them into reason, and offering half the money, they
thought proper to be contented with it. I am convinced, from experience,
that this is a better mode, than arguing a point of charge passionately
with a French innkeeper; hear with patience his torrent of explanation,
and then putting on your gloves coolly, reply with a smile, “I dare say
you are right, my good friend, but I make it a rule never to pay so
much, and cannot do it now.” Above all, take care that you do not, like
Smollet, give a louis to change, and then ask them what you have to pay;
first, get your change, and then only part with your gold. But the best
way of all to prevent disputes, is to make a bargain beforehand.

About seven in the evening I arrived at Aix, and had the pleasure of
meeting my friend Mr. W⸺, with a brother of his, lately arrived from
England, and also some of my fair countrywomen, with whom I had been
acquainted at Toulouse, and who had passed me at Montpellier.




CHAP. VIII.

AIX—MARSEILLES.


Mr. W⸺ pressed me to take up my residence at Aix with himself and his
brother, but I was still too anxious to pursue my studies of the French
language, and character, amongst the natives, to accept of his offer;
notwithstanding, it was impossible that I could have been placed more
satisfactorily to my feelings; his general information and good sense,
highly qualified him to impart knowledge, and his uncommon urbanity of
manners, made it particularly delightful to receive it from him.

    “How much in every state man owes
    To what kind courtesy bestows,
    To that benign engaging art,
    Which decorates the human heart;
    To every act it gives a grace,
    And adds a smile to every face;
    E’en goodness ’self we better see,
    When drest by gentle courtesy.”

I availed myself, however, of my friend’s kindness, until I succeeded
in procuring accommodations in a French family, accustomed to receive
students in the law _en pension_. These gentlemen, however, only made
their appearance at meal-times, nor did the resident family associate
with us according to my expectation; I felt disappointed, and after
staying ten days determined to change my quarters.

It was not easy to find a family like that of the Countess de M⸺, at
Montpellier, particularly at this season, when every one who could afford
to support the smallest establishment in the country, was, on account
of the excessive heat, gone out of town. At length I fixed myself with
Madame R⸺, the widow of an officer of dragoons, with three children, the
eldest a girl of fourteen. A rich old gentleman, her cousin, M. B⸺, also
resided with her, and they kept, in conjunction, two carriages and three
horses, and occupied three different country houses.

I had the pleasure, one day, of accompanying Madame R⸺ on horseback, to
visit one of her country seats, and was not a little surprised to find
that she rode after the manner of gentlemen, with a horse-cloth doubled
under her, instead of a saddle. It is, however, seldom that ladies in
France ride on horseback, and they were not a little astonished, after
the peace, to see our fair countrywomen riding in their usual manner
with side-saddles, an accommodation they were not familiar with. I must
acknowledge, I should not have liked exhibiting in the same way in Hyde
Park; we did not, however, pass through the town in this manner, for
our horses were led out of it before we mounted, and on our return, we
dismounted before re-entering it.

A few days after my arrival, I commenced using the mineral baths of
Aix, which I persevered in during my residence, and I think with much
advantage, although I could not bear drinking the waters, which I
fancied to be of a chalybeate nature; I endeavoured, but in vain, to
get a correct analysis of them; the resident physician, appointed by
government, either could not, or would not inform me; he referred me to
a large octavo volume, sold at the baths, but I found it contain nothing
except eulogies on their virtues, in almost every disease to which the
human body is incidental. The temperature of the water is about 97°
Fahrenheit.

The baths are situated in the Fauxbourg, or higher part of the town; the
best situation for the invalid who wishes to take advantage of them, is
near the Hotel de Prince, on the Coursé, which is the pleasantest part of
the town.

The Coursé, is a double walk, with rows of lime-trees on both sides, and
a carriage road between them; these walks form the fashionable promenade
of the place on a summer’s evening. There are also good boulevards; Aix
upon the whole, however, is defective in public walks, and the streets
are narrow and very dirty. It is far from being an agreeable residence
in summer, as the town is empty and dull; and in winter it is cold, in
consequence of its situation on an extensive plain, exposed to the _vents
de bise_ from the neighbouring mountains.

There is a line cathedral at Aix, one of the doors of which is considered
an exquisite piece of workmanship; in consequence, it is preserved in a
case, and a particular application required to get admitted to a sight of
it. I attended the service of the cathedral one fête day, and heard some
very fine vocal and instrumental music.

The college here is as famous for law, as that of Montpellier for
physic; and there is a public library which contains some English books,
presented by one of our countrymen. The town also possesses a museum of
natural history, and some good private collections of paintings.

My intercourse was chiefly confined to the family with which I resided,
and a few English friends; I am, therefore, unable to say much respecting
the social habits of the place, but understood that it was by no means
defective in these respects; although there are no public amusements
during the summer, the winter brings with it theatrical, and other
entertainments.

Provisions are abundant and cheap, and the bread is so excellent as to
be sent in large quantities to other places.

I was anxious to visit the celebrated city of Marseilles, distant only
fifteen miles, and proceeded with Mr. H. W⸺, and another gentleman, to
put this design in execution; on our arrival we placed ourselves at the
Hotel des Ambassador, in the Rue Beauveau, near the Place Moliere, where
the theatre stands.

The commerce of this great mercantile city was at this time much
depressed, owing to the heavy duties imposed upon goods imported by
American vessels; which however they managed to evade, in some degree, by
unshipping their cargoes at Nice, or Genoa, into French coasters.

We visited the coral manufactory; the corals used in which, are said
to be very fine, and brought by the fishermen direct from the coast
of Barbary; I should have been glad to have purchased some, but was
apprehensive of imposition, and, moreover, found that I could not take
them into Italy, and elsewhere, without paying very heavy duties, or
incurring great risk of seizure.

It is customary at Marseilles, for the inhabitants in great numbers, to
go to the outsides of the harbour early in the morning to bathe, for
which purpose the females take the left hand, and the men the right.
We were induced to follow this good example, and found the bathing
delightful; we were carried by boats into about five feet water, with
a fine sandy bottom, and steps were then thrown out to enable us
conveniently to get into the water, and out again; but I preferred
throwing myself from off the gunwale and diving for some yards, after
which, I swam out to sea, to the astonishment of my friends and the
surrounding strangers, who were rendered sensible of my loss of sight, by
my occasionally calling out to ascertain the direction of the boat.

On the eve of our return to Aix, Mr. H. W⸺, a spirited young naval
officer, determined to repeat his bathing in the close of the evening,
and notwithstanding our solicitations to the contrary, insisted upon
going alone, although quite unacquainted with the French language. His
impetuosity led him into an adventure, which might have terminated in
fatal results, and, at all events, compelled us to hasten our departure,
under circumstances in some degree equivocal. On quitting his boat, he
offered the man who belonged to it, the same remuneration he had on
former occasions paid, which however was refused; my friend walked off,
and the man followed him, talking loudly in an unintelligible manner; at
length he laid hold of him by the skirt of his coat, when W⸺, turning
round, knocked him down; a mob soon collected, who taking the boatman’s
part, proceeded to beat our young friend most unmercifully, and probably
would have murdered him, had not some gentlemen interfered and extricated
him; one of these had the kindness to accompany him home, and requested
we would not venture into the streets, until the affair had been arranged
with the police, to whom he offered to accompany us on the following
morning. We acknowledged his kindness, but concealed our intention of
quitting Marseilles at five o’clock in the morning; in short, we thought
it better to avail ourselves of this chance of getting rid of the affair,
not however, without some apprehension of being pursued.

In fact, in two or three days after our return to Aix, it was announced,
that a person from Marseilles was enquiring for two gentlemen who had
lately been at the Hotel des Ambassador, in that place; we immediately
pictured to our imaginations, a police officer, with a warrant in his
hand, but it proved to be one of the waiters, who had called to apprise
us of a mistake of six francs, against us, in making out our bill, which
we paid with much satisfaction, as flattering ourselves that we had now
fully outwitted the police.

The month of September having considerably advanced, and the weather
becoming sensibly colder, I began to think of suspending the use of the
hot baths, and removing to a milder climate. I had the pleasure, however,
of thinking my health materially improved, my eyes in particular felt
lighter, and I fancied that I could occasionally discern a flash of light
from the under part of the left one. I selected Nice for my winter’s
residence, and on the 14th of September left Aix in the diligence, for
Antibes, taking leave of the last town in France, where I proposed making
any extended residence.

It is not easy to describe my emotions in quitting a people, with whose
language and habits I was now becoming well acquainted, and to whom
I felt a degree of attachment, grounded, if not upon congeniality of
sentiment, at least upon a grateful sense of repeated acts of kindness,
and attention, which I had experienced from them.

It is true, that I was fully alive to all the anticipated enjoyments of a
land of promise; the favoured Italy, highly gifted by nature and art; the
cradle of genius; the birth-place of poets, orators, and warriors; and
once the sole arbitress of the fate of the world.

I sought consolation in reflections of this nature, and in repeating the
lines of a favourite poet.

    “Hope must brighten days to come
    While memory gilds the past.”




CHAP. IX.

JOURNEY TO NICE.


On leaving Aix, our coach, besides myself, contained two gentlemen,
sons of General M⸺, who had been residing for eight years at a college
near Toulouse. We breakfasted at Luc, where we took up two or three
more passengers; from hence we passed on to Frejus, and thence over the
Estralès, formerly noted for numerous banditti. At Cannes General M⸺ came
out with his daughter, in his carriage, to meet his sons, whom we here
parted from. The remaining passengers also quitted us about this time, so
that before we entered Antibes I had the whole carriage to myself.

At Antibes I got my passport signed, to enable me to enter his Sardinian
majesty’s dominions; but this gave little trouble, as a person negotiated
the affair for the remuneration of one franc.

I remained at the inn where the diligence put up, in consequence of
finding that the one for Nice set off from it on the following morning.
I got my supper at the table d’hôte, in company with two or three
officers; the fare was very indifferent, and the charge exorbitant, in
consequence of not having made my bargain beforehand.

After supper I retired early to bed, in hopes of compensating for
my loss of sleep on the preceding night in the coach; but, alas! I
reckoned without my host, for it proved a night of misery; a multitude
of mosquitoes tormented me without intermission, and with joy did I
welcome the arrival of the moment, which announced that the diligence was
preparing to depart.

At four o’clock we left the inn, but the town-gates were yet closed, and
some time elapsed before they were opened to us; at length an officer
came and accomplished this with military ceremony; but we were still
unable to proceed, for a whole drove of asses and mules, laden with
fruits, vegetables, &c. had stationed themselves in the pass on the other
side, and began to enter amidst the smacking of whips, and hallooing of
muleteers; this occupied at least ten minutes.

Shortly afterward we took up a man who had fought in the battle of
Trafalgar, but was now a _traiteur_ at Nice, and had been into the
country to purchase grapes, in order to manufacture his own wine: he
seemed pleased on discovering that I had served in the British navy, of
which he spoke very highly.

We now arrived on the banks of the Var, which separates the kingdoms of
France and Sardinia, and, with little interruption from the custom-house
officers, immediately crossed the frontiers.

We here received the addition to our party, of two very genteel ladies
and a gentleman, who proved for the remainder of the journey, most
agreeable companions; I was so much interested in their conversation,
that, almost without being sensible of the progress, we arrived at the
Hotel des Etranger, at Nice.

I am unwilling, finally, to take my leave of France, without expressing
an opinion of the character of a people, with whom I had been so long
resident; the unfavourable circumstances, however, under which only I
could contemplate them, make me diffident in advancing my opinion, as
I am fully conscious of an inability to give the picture that energy
and justice of colouring which it requires. I shall, therefore, confine
myself to a few general remarks.

There is something highly fascinating in the exterior, manners, and
converse of a Frenchman; courteous in his behaviour, he evinces a
strong desire to please and be pleased; but although he manifests the
speciousness of ardent friendship, his heart is not the soil, in which
this quality is capable of taking a firm and unshaken root; as soon as
the source, from which it has emanated, and been supported, ceases to be
present, the previous impressions disappear, and a void is offered for
the reception of new ones, equally vivid, but equally superficial.

This mixture of susceptibility and indifference makes the Frenchman a gay
and pleasing, but, at the same time, an uncertain companion; he does not,
like the Englishman, dwell on the enjoyments of the past, and entangle
his mind with useless and prolonged regrets, but is ever ready to enliven
new scenes of social intercourse; in short, he can ill sustain a state of
_tristesse_, which he considers all his reflecting moments, and whether
thrown into contact with his countrymen, or strangers, is a sensualist
in his social feelings, and must seek for pleasure and amusement, for in
this “he lives and has his being,” and that man is his dearest friend,
who most contributes to his gratification.

With respect to the fair sex, they are generally lively and fascinating,
and possessed of susceptible feelings, capable of being converted into
strong attachments. These are some of the essential requisites for
forming an amiable, and virtuous character; but, alas! the good is
perverted by the influence of an injudicious and trifling system of
education, extended at most to superficial literary acquisitions, which
barely serve for the dictation of an ungrammatical _billetdoux_, or the
copying of a song. The most devoted attention is given to the art of
pleasing, and the study of dress, which, with the auxiliaries of music
and embroidery, form the leading occupations of young French females.

In conversation they are acute, playful, and frequently sensible, but
it cannot be wondered at, when the defects of education are taken into
account, that there should be little which sinks deep into the heart, and
leaves an impression, or promise, of future matron-like virtue.

Many ladies, however, are educated in convents, where they acquire a
temporary spirit of bigotry, which wears off after they return into the
world, and frequently leaves behind it a proportionate want of religious
feeling.

They, generally, marry young enough to enable a judicious husband to form
a character if defective, or to correct it if deformed; but here they
are truly to be pitied; for they soon experience a culpable neglect from
those men who ought to be their inseparable protectors and advisers, and
who, preferring the society of others, leave them incautiously to their
own pursuits and feelings. Is it to be wondered at that they should cease
to cultivate the domestic virtues?

To conclude; the French female contains within her those principles,
which, under proper cultivation, would produce excellent wives, and
estimable women; and it is a serious reflection upon the national
character, that such principles should be sacrificed by the indifference,
and neglect of those whose duty, as well as interest it is, to elicit and
establish her virtues.




CHAP. X.

ST. ROSALIE.


My first object, on arriving at Nice, was to ascertain whether Mr. L⸺,
lately one of my acquaintance at Aix, was yet at Nice, where he had
been for a time residing, and of which I was doubtful, as I knew that
he was about this time intending to proceed farther into Italy. I had
been apprised that I should hear of him at the house of Madame M⸺ at St.
Rosalie, about a mile and a half distant from the town; and, as I was
aware that he had paved the way to an introduction for me to this lady, I
procured a valet-de-place to conduct me thither. I had the happiness to
find him still in the neighbourhood, residing at a very short distance
from Madame M⸺, although on the point of proceeding on his proposed tour.

Through his recommendation, I was immediately received as an inmate in
the family of Madame M⸺, consisting of herself, two daughters, and a
young English lady, Miss T⸺.

The mansion of this lady was an attachment to the adjoining church of
St. Rosalie, now fallen into disuse, except as a family storeroom; the
bells, and other ecclesiastical articles, had been presented by Madame,
to the neighbouring church of Cimea, formerly a Roman settlement, with
still some interesting remains of an amphitheatre, baths, aqueduct, and a
temple of Apollo; and amongst which, ancient coins are still occasionally
discovered.

The domain of St. Rosalie is delightfully situated, and furnished with
shady walks, which offer a cool retreat amidst the severest heats of
summer: there was one formed of trellis-work, over-shadowed with the
vine, which was peculiarly grateful; here we frequently walked during
the heats of the day, or amused ourselves with the pleasures of reading;
to gratify my inclination for which my amiable companion Miss T⸺ would
kindly devote many hours of the day to the perusal of such authors as
most interested me; indeed I can never express sufficient gratitude for
the many sacrifices she made for my accommodation and amusement.

We here proposed to continue, until the nearer approach of winter, would
make a town-residence more agreeable. Our time passed away in the most
happy manner; Madame was busily occupied by the vintage, and in laying up
a stock of fruits, preserves, &c. in which the young ladies occasionally
assisted; nor could I remain an idle personage, and I proved myself far
more dexterous in cutting down the bunches of grapes, than my companions
were willing to have given me credit for. It was necessary that as little
time as possible, should be lost in this operation, as exposure to wet,
during the gathering of the grapes, injures the flavour of the wine: we
succeeded in completing our task in two days.

The process of making the wine is as follows:—The grapes being selected
and picked, are put into a large vat, where they are well trodden down
by the naked feet; after which, the liquor is drawn off from below;
the bruised grapes are then put into a press, and the remaining liquor
extracted. The whole of the juice is now transferred into casks with
their bungs open, and allowed to ferment, and discharge its impurities
for twelve, fifteen, or twenty days, according to the strength of the
grape; the waste occasioned by the discharge being constantly supplied
with fresh liquor. The casks are then carefully closed, and in about a
month the wine is considered fit for drinking.

When the grapes are of a bad, meagre kind, the wine-dealers mix the juice
with quicklime, in order to give it a spirit which nature has denied, or,
possibly, to take off acidity.

About this time, Dr. Skirving, an English physician, whom I had the
pleasure of knowing in Edinburgh, and an intimate acquaintance of Madame
M⸺, arrived with a view of establishing himself in practice at Nice. He
had originally become known at this place, in consequence of having been
detained in it by the illness of a friend, who in an intended voyage
from Civita Vecchia to Marseilles, ruptured a blood-vessel on his lungs,
by the exertions of sea-sickness, and was compelled to make this port,
where, after lingering some months, he died. Pleased with the situation,
and at the solicitations of his friends, he determined to make Nice his
permanent residence, and having arranged his affairs in England, was now
arrived to carry the plan into execution.

With a cultivated and liberal mind, Dr. S⸺ is possessed of superior
professional abilities; I had the pleasure of witnessing an interesting
recovery, under his care, in the person of a lady who had an abscess on
her lungs. At one time she was considered so near dissolution, that some
of her friends were importunate to have the last consolations of religion
administered to her; but my friend, aware of the danger of agitating
her mind at this critical moment, entreated that the measure might be
deferred, and she was afterward restored to comparative good health. If
any apology is necessary for this digression, it must be placed to the
score of the warmest friendship; indeed, I should feel myself ungrateful,
did I neglect to acknowledge this gentleman’s undeviating kindness to
myself.

The 15th of October now arrived, which, being St. Therese’s day, was the
fête of Madame M⸺, as well as the anniversary of my birth. The former
circumstance it may be necessary to explain. It is customary in this
country to name children after some favourite saint, to whose especial
protection they may thus be supposed to be committed; and hence, when the
annual fête of their patron arrives, it is made a day of congratulation
to themselves.

When it happens to be the fête of the father, or mother of a family,
their children prepare a nosegay, and bring it to them the first thing
in the morning, presenting it with some pretty and appropriate address;
after which, the day is spent in innocent pastime and amusement. But the
above tokens of respect are not confined to the children; the friends,
and dependants, also participate in offering them. In the present
instance, I prepared my nosegay, and offered it to my fair hostess
with undefinable sensations of pleasure, and of course did not allow
so favourable an opportunity to pass, without adding that well-merited
compliment, which politeness, and gratitude for her attentions prompted.
Now Madame was a pretty little sensible woman, who knew how to receive
a compliment from a gentleman, in a graceful and agreeable manner; and,
I really cannot wonder that the priests should appoint so many fêtes, if
they are to be attended with such agreeable circumstances to them, as I
experienced on this occasion.

Soon after this, the peasantry employed on Madame M⸺’s estate, came with
their nosegays, accompanied by presents of fruit, and were regaled with
breakfast; the day unfortunately proved rainy, or we should have enjoyed
a dance on the green. We had afterward a party to dinner; and the evening
concluded with singing, and other amusements. On Madame M⸺’s brother
being requested to sing he favoured us with the following, first drawing
his chair close to that of Miss T⸺, to whom he appeared to address the
sentiment.

    J’avais juré que de l’amour
    Je ne porterais plus la chaine,
    Redoutant les maux qu’il entraî
    Je voulais le fuir sans retour
    Mais de sa puissance divine,
    Tout mortel se rit vainement.
    Lorsque je faisais ce serment
    Je n’avais pas vu ma voisine.

    Depuis long temps ce Dieu malin
    Piqué de mon indifference,
    Preparait tout bas sa vengeance:
    Voyez combien l’amour est fin.
    Sous les traits d’Aglae, et d’Aline,
    Ne pouvant effleurer mon cœur,
    Pour réussir le seducteur,
    Prend ceux de ma belle voisine.

    Si j’avais le talent heureux
    De Zeuxis, ou de Praxitele,
    Je peindrais la vertu si belle,
    Qu’elle plairait à tous les yeux.
    Elle aurait les traits de Cyprine,
    De Junon l’air majestueux,
    D’Hebé le souris gracieux;
    Mais non! je piendrais ma voisine.

    Qu’un soldat aime les lauriers,
    Qu’on cueille au champ de la victoire;
    Qu’un savant sur son vieux grimoire,
    Se confonde des jours entiers,
    Qu’un buveur, que rien ne chagrine,
    A boire mette son plaisir.
    Moi je ne forme qu’un desir,
    C’est d’être aimé de ma voisine.

The air becoming sensibly cooler, it was determined to remove to our
winter-quarters in Nice, leaving St. Rosalie to its peasantry, now about
to commence getting in the olives, and express the oil, which is the
richest part of their harvest. The best olives are those which grow wild,
but the quantity of these is inconsiderable; they begin to collect them
in the early part of November, and this is repeated at intervals until
March or April; the fruit is beaten off the trees with long canes as it
ripens, which is known by its turning from a light green to a very dark
colour. The oil must be expressed immediately, and before the olives
fade or grow wrinkled, otherwise it will not be good. The whole are, in
the first instance, ground into paste by a millstone, set edgeways in a
circular stone trough, and turned by a mule or the power of water; this
paste is then put into cases, made of the same kind of grass which is so
much used in the Mediterranean for the manufacture of ropes and cables;
six or eight of which are piled one over the other, and then subjected
to a powerful press for a few minutes, by which the oil is forced out,
and received into a stone reservoir placed beneath it. While the oil is
passing from the press, hot water is frequently dashed over it, to make
it flow the better. The whole fluid is now transferred into a wooden vat,
half filled with water, in which the dregs fall to the bottom, while the
supernatant oil is skimmed off, and stored up in small oblong casks.

The remnant is now thrown into a large stone cistern containing water,
and allowed to continue there twelve or fourteen days, frequently
stirring it during that time; a coarser oil is then taken from its
surface, which serves for the purpose of burning in lamps, or in
manufactories. After these processes, they separate an oil still more
coarse and fetid, and occasionally grind the paste down with hot water,
which extracts a yet greater quantity of oily matter, but which in this
case soon grows rancid.

The dregs which remain after these operations, when dried, are used as
a fuel; particularly for warming, by means of _brasieres_, apartments
without chimneys.

There is, however, a very peculiarly fine preparation, called virgin oil,
and which is a great delicacy, eating like the sweetest butter; this is
made from green olives, and sold at a high price, as a great quantity of
the fruit yields but little oil.

The summer fruits, as grapes, figs, peaches, &c. were now over, but we
had great stores preserved for the winter’s use. There were, however,
neither oranges nor lemons this season, the unusually severe frost of
the preceding winter having killed all the trees: throughout France, and
about Genoa, most of the olive-trees also perished; but at Nice they were
more fortunate.

It may be interesting, to advert to the mode of life of the peasantry
of this district, and the nature of the tenure by which they hold their
land, as well as the manner of cultivating it.

The Nicean peasant is frugal and industrious, he takes no regular meal,
not even a breakfast, until after the conclusion of the labours of the
day, contenting himself with an occasional refreshment of bread, wine,
and fruit; at night he makes amends for this abstinence, but even now
rarely partakes of animal food, his favourite and indispensable fare
being soup, prepared with macaroni and vegetables, and mixed up with a
large quantity of oil.

The land around the city is divided into small parcels or farms, seldom
consisting of more than twelve or fourteen acres each, and which are
principally covered with vines, olives, and fruit-trees, the intermediate
spaces being filled up with abundance of vegetables, and small quantities
of grain, the chief supply of this important article being derived from
different parts of the Mediterranean.

The proprietor retains the actual possession of the farm, but the
_fermier_ cultivates it, collects its produce, and carries it to market;
he is bound also to plant, every year, a stipulated number of vines,
from three to six hundred, according to the size of the farm; and at his
sole expense to repair the walls and fences. The proprietor provides him
a house, pays the contribution _foncier_, and incurs half the expense
of manure, and of the animals necessary for carrying on the various
operations of the concern. The proprietor and fermier then share the
produce in equal proportions, except as relates to the olives, of which
the former takes three-fifths.

The ground is entirely cultivated by a kind of hoe, termed _piochê_; the
valuable instrument, the plough, being unknown in the whole country; nor
do they here seem acquainted with the use of carts, as even the manure is
conveyed in baskets, or barrels, on the backs of mules.

We now took leave of St. Rosalie; nor could I, without the highest
regret, tear myself away from its rural charms, not least amongst which
was the vine covered alley, “impervious to the noontide ray,” which had
so often offered us delightful shade, and refreshment, during the most
intense atmospheric heats; and where so many happy moments had glided
away in interesting conversation, and the rational amusement of reading,
frequently enlivened by the vocal powers of Madame M⸺ and her youngest
daughter.

I thought I could have reposed for ever in this semblance of an earthly
paradise; and yet there was something which, in my situation, I felt
still wanting to make me completely blest.

    “Rapt in the soft retreat, my anxious breast
    Pants still for something unpossessed;
    Whence springs this sudden hope, this warm desire?
    To what enjoyment would my soul aspire?
    ’Tis love! extends my wishes and my care,
    Eden was tasteless ’till an Eve was there.
    Almighty Love! I own thy powerful sway,
    Resign my soul, and willingly obey.”—CHURCH.




CHAP. XI.

NICE.


We took up our residence at Nice, on the 17th of October in the house of
M. Audoli, situated in the suburb called St. John the Baptist: opposite
to us, a plank lay across the Paglion, which, when the water was low
afforded a ready access to the town; the bridge leading into it, being
situated at a considerable distance higher up.

Nice is far from being a large city, as I was able to make the tour of
its ramparts in twenty minutes; nor is it an interesting one; the streets
are narrow, and mostly on a level, with the exception of one or two which
lead to a part of the town situated in a hollow, and which have a step
every two or three yards to break the declivity.

In many streets you are annoyed by the thumping of machinery, employed in
the manufacture of macaroni, and which is required to force it into its
tubular form. The following is the process for manufacturing the ordinary
kind of macaroni or vermicelli: Equal parts of fine and coarse flour
are mixed together, and made into a paste with water, to which a small
quantity of saffron has been added to give it a yellow tinge. The whole
is then kneaded into a stiff paste, by means of a beam of wood, which is
worked by two or three men on the principle of the lever; after which
it is put into a strong cylinder of copper, with perforations in its
bottom, of such size as may be necessary to give the form of macaroni or
vermicelli, which ever may be intended. It is then forced through these
apertures into its tubular shape by a powerful screw, and cut of proper
lengths as it comes out, after which it is hung up in the air to harden.

One street, termed Rue de Juif, is exclusively appropriated to the Jews,
who are not allowed to reside in any other part of the town.

The _places_, St. Dominico and Victoire, are respectable squares: the
York hotel is situated in the former, which affords visitors superior,
and at the same time equally reasonable, accommodation, with the Hotel
des Etranger.

The most general residence for strangers, however, is beyond the suburb
of St. John the Baptist, at a part termed the Croix de Marbre, where a
number of houses, superior, in point of comfort, to the residence of
the natives, are kept for the purpose of accommodating them: houses
may, however, also be procured on the Cimea Hill, near the Port, in the
_Places_, and by the Terrace, as well as in other parts of the town.
The prices are variable, according to the season, situations, and demand
for them; and what you pay will be materially influenced by your skill
in bargaining: the prudent plan is to offer only half what they ask,
and from thence ascend, as they descend, until both agree, or you are
satisfied that you have proposed a fair price; and then if you stick to
your point, they will most probably accede to it. This is a better way of
arranging the business, than through the medium of your banker, who will
probably offer his services as an agent.

Nice has excellent markets, well supplied with provisions of all kinds,
at reasonable prices: viz. beef, five sous per pound; mutton, six sous;
veal and lamb, seven sous; but the pound consists only of twelve ounces,
and not, as in France, of from sixteen to twenty-two. The price of
butchers’ meat is fixed by the magistracy, and therefore invariable,
whereas that of poultry and butter fluctuates, these articles being
brought from the plains of Piedmont over the Col de Tende, at times
impassable; which circumstance of course enhances the value. Game is
scarce, and nearly as dear as in England; six francs being given for a
brace of woodcocks: hares, however, are more moderate in proportion.
Fish is plentiful, when the weather is favourable, and sells from six to
sixteen sous per pound. Vegetables and fruits are grown abundantly in
the environs.

Nice produces very fair wines, both red and white; but the most valuable
kind is that named _Billit_.

The accommodations for bathing are indifferent; the beach is rough and
stony, and there are no machines. On summer evenings, after it is dark,
the females take possession of the beach, on one side of the entrance of
the harbour, and there bathe, while the men go to a distant point.

There are, however, two sets of warm baths in the town, the one
constructed of marble, the other with copper; the former, situated near
the Place St. Dominico, are long, narrow, and shallow; when in them, you
only want a cover to make a good coffin—the latter, on the contrary,
situated on the ramparts between the bridge and the Place Victoire, are
so short and deep, that although you cannot lie down in them, you may
sit, and have the water up to your chin; in fact they form excellent
boilers, which would serve to stew you down, if required.

Among the many beautiful walks about Nice, the Terrace ranks foremost;
it is crowded on a summer’s evening, but during the winter is delightful
throughout the whole day, particularly on a Sunday afternoon, when a
military band occasionally attends for an hour or two. The walks to the
Port, and around the ramparts, are also very agreeable.

In the environs of the town, a great deal of beautiful scenery will be
found, embellished with aqueducts, temples, and other Roman remains,
particularly in the direction of the Cimea road; and that leading to
Genoa, from which there is a most commanding view of the sea, Nice, and
its neighbourhood, with the Paglion flowing in the valley beneath, the
Turin road lying by the side of it, over which, on the opposite side of
the river, stands the Cimea Hill.

Only three good carriage roads will be found at Nice, one leading to
the Var, another to Turin, and the third to Genoa; there is also one to
Villa Franca, but so steep, that many do not like to venture up it; the
preferable way of visiting this latter place, is to row there in a boat
or felucca, and return on foot.

Villa Franca is a small, but strongly fortified town, distant about two
miles from Nice, built at the extremity of a fine harbour, in a situation
admirably adapted for the site of a more important place. It consists of
very indifferent buildings, and its streets are narrow, and wretchedly
paved.

Nice and its environs do not offer a very extensive field to the
naturalist. The surrounding mountains are, however, covered with a great
variety of plants during the whole year; and, of course, the botanist
will find ample amusement. The mineralogy of the neighbourhood is but
limited, the whole of the hills around the city consisting chiefly of
limestone, with some few beds of gypsum. In the beds of the mountain
torrents, portions are occasionally found of granite, gneiss, clay-slate,
flinty-slate, serpentine and feltspar; but these specimens so small and
so much weathered, that it is often difficult to distinguish them.

The geology of Nice is more interesting; the calcareous rocks afford
many specimens of what the French call the _breche osseuse_, in which
small fragments of bones are cemented together by argillaceous matter,
which has acquired a reddish colour from the presence of iron. Near Villa
Franca some of the limestone contains a great number of shells, the
species of many of which still exist in the Mediterranean. The rising
grounds near the Var are wholly formed of a coarse breccia, the cement of
which is argillaceous, impregnated with iron; extensive excavations have
here been made to procure clay for the manufacture of tiles, in which
great numbers of shells are found imbedded, with occasional vegetable
remains.

I believe the sea-shore produces a number of shells which would be
interesting to the conchologist.

I shall now make some remarks respecting the state of society at Nice.
There were English residents enough to form sufficiently large circles
amongst themselves, besides numerous others who visited the place, _en
passant_, to and from Italy. A few German, and Russian, families were
also spending their winter here, who associated largely with the English.
These visited each other, and gave dinner, and evening parties, and
balls occasionally. The natives, however, were not excluded from this
society, although the incomes of few would permit their returning the
invitation in equal stile. The hospitality, however, of the governor,
made amends for the deficiency. This officer, only gave dinner parties
to the gentlemen; but had balls for the ladies once a week during the
Carnival; and evening parties, in the same way, throughout the remainder
of the winter, paying both by himself, and his aid-de-camps, the
greatest possible attention to his visitors. He had, however, no regular
government-house, and the one which he occupied was scarcely large enough
for the accommodation of his numerous guests. The only ceremony necessary
to enable a stranger to receive his attentions, was to leave his card,
which the governor always acknowledged in person.

The nobility of Nice, never think of visiting their countrymen who
have not titles, notwithstanding many of them are people of great
respectability, as professional men, merchants, &c.; at the same time,
they have no objection to meet them at the houses of strangers. It might
have been conceived that the experience of the French revolution would
have taught them differently; besides, it is a matter of no difficulty
to procure a title, for I am informed that it only costs sixty louis to
purchase that of a count, and twenty-five to become a baron. But let me
not be mistaken for a leveller of distinctions, no one has a greater
respect for the Patrician order than myself, when its dignities have been
the meed of talent or of virtue.

    “Order is Heaven’s first law, and this confest,
    Some are, and must be, greater than the rest.”

It is, contemptible, however, to witness the pride of upstart gentility,
with nothing but the mere garnish of wealth to adorn it.

But possibly I may have been led by the force of circumstances to
contemplate the present subject in too strong a light; for alas! I
have long been incapable of being deceived by the outward appearance
of things, and habituated to estimate men by their manners, and
conversation, rather than their external and visible signs.

    Now peace to the nobles: may they wisdom acquire,
    Should their titles have come from their fathers or sire.

I was much surprised one day by a visit from a particular friend, Mrs.
R⸺, lately arrived from Paris, whom I had not seen for the last seven
years, and supposed to be in the West Indies. This lady did me the favour
to introduce me to Mr. and Mrs. K⸺, the friends whom she had accompanied
from Paris. Soon after I had the pleasure of becoming acquainted with
General B⸺, Mrs. A⸺, and a number of other English residents, whose names
it would be tiresome to the reader to enumerate, from whom I afterwards
received a series of kind and friendly attentions, for which I feel
greatly indebted to them. I cannot, however, avoid particularizing Mr.
and Mrs. S⸺, whose permission to make use of their valuable collection of
books, proved a source of the highest satisfaction to me.

A very pretty, but small theatre, has been erected at Nice, which was
not opened for dramatic representations during my residence there. It
was, however, made use of for two grand balls, given by a select party
of the nobles and gentlemen of Nice, to the stranger residents; we were
also entertained with a public concert in it; we had, besides this,
several private amateur concerts, in a large room appropriated for such
occasions, and supported by subscription, each subscriber being allowed
to introduce a certain number of persons.

Before giving a dance at a private house, it is necessary, unless you
intend to break up by ten o’clock, to ask permission of the police, who
charge six francs for their licence, and then a soldier is placed at the
door of the house.

I accompanied a party of ladies, one Sunday, to the cathedral, to hear an
eminent French preacher, which is an unusual occurrence here, for they
generally preach either in Italian, or the patois of the country, which
is the most harsh and barbarous dialect I ever heard, worse than the
patois of Provence, which is bad enough, although somewhat similar. It
is however, the common language of the natives when conversing together,
notwithstanding most of the respectable inhabitants speak both French and
Italian.

I shall now notice various natural and meteorological occurrences which
took place during my residence in this city.

On the 3rd of January, the waters of the Paglion came down with so much
force, as to carry away the embankment, raised for the protection of the
workmen employed at the foundation of a new bridge, just commenced over
the river, and which was expected to require two years to complete.

On the evening of the 6th of February, the shock of an earthquake was
sensibly perceived in some parts of the town, more particularly on the
side of the Turin gate; and on the 8th, the wind suddenly rose to a
violent gale, which lasted three or four hours; at the commencement of
which, Reaumur’s thermometer suddenly rose from 3° to 10°. An American
vessel which had left the port the day before, for Marseilles, was upset
during this gale, off Cannes, but the crew were fortunately saved.

The coldest day experienced during the season, was on the 20th of
February, but even then, the lowest point at which Reaumur’s thermometer
was noticed, was 1° above freezing point, or equal to 34¼° of Fahrenheit.

The following is a register of the temperature of the atmosphere, noted
by Dr. S⸺, three times each day, during the first week of January.

    +--------++-----------------++-----------------++-----------------+
    |January,||      8 a.m.     ||      2 p.m.     ||      8 p.m.     |
    | 1820.  ++--------+--------++--------+--------++--------+--------+
    |        || Reaum. | Fahrt. || Reaum. | Fahrt. || Reaum. | Fahrt. |
    +--------++--------+--------++--------+--------++--------+--------+
    |  1st   ||   3°   |  38¾°  ||   7°   |  47¾°  ||   2°   |  36½°  |
    +--------++--------+--------++--------+--------++--------+--------+
    |  2nd   ||   2°   |  36½°  ||   6½°  |  46⅝°  ||   5°   |  43½°  |
    +--------++--------+--------++--------+--------++--------+--------+
    |  3rd   ||   5½°  |  44¾°  ||   7°   |  47¾°  ||   9°   |  52½°  |
    +--------++--------+--------++--------+--------++--------+--------+
    |  4th   ||   7°   |  47¾°  ||   9°   |  52½°  ||   7½°  |  48⅞°  |
    +--------++--------+--------++--------+--------++--------+--------+
    |  5th   ||   7°   |  47¾°  ||   8½°  |  51⅛°  ||   9°   |  52½°  |
    +--------++--------+--------++--------+--------++--------+--------+
    |  6th   ||   8°   |  50°   ||   1½°  |  35¾°  ||   6°   |  45½°  |
    +--------++--------+--------++--------+--------++--------+--------+
    |  7th   ||   5°   |  43½°  ||   9°   |  52½°  ||   7½°  |  48⅞°  |
    +--------++--------+--------++--------+--------++--------+--------+

With respect to the climate of Nice, if I might be allowed, after
five months’ residence, to hazard an opinion, I conceive it the most
delightful one in Europe, and, indeed, preferable to any I have yet
experienced, unless the Bermuda islands are excepted. Some object to the
heat during summer, but it is possible to avoid the inconvenience, by
retiring for this season, amongst the mountains. At a small town, named
Rochabiliare, twenty-five miles inland, are mineral springs, containing
nitre and sulphur, and of different temperatures, the highest being 100°
Fahrenheit. I endeavoured, but in vain, to procure a correct analysis of
these waters.

My friends at Nice, with the exception of Dr. S⸺, thought me insane,
when, on the approach of spring, I declared my intention of proceeding
southward, to make the tour of Italy, as the whole of the country was
in an agitated state, in consequence of the advance of the Austrians
upon Naples, hostilities having actually commenced on the frontiers.
In addition, the Milanese and Piedmont were supposed to be highly
discontented, and an insurrection was anticipated throughout the whole
of Italy; but when my resolution is fixed, I do not allow myself to be
deterred by the anticipation, or dread of difficulties; in the event of
the fears of my friends being realized, I was disposed to think I should
have an equal, or better chance of getting safely away from Florence,
than from Nice; for instance, I could, in a few hours reach Leghorn, at
which place there would be every probability of my being able to embark
on board an English vessel, or of getting to the neighbouring island
where Lord Byron desires Bonaparte to hasten, concluding his verse with a
just compliment to his own country.

    “Then haste thee to thy sullen isle,
      And gaze upon the sea;
    That element may meet thy smile,
      It ne’er was ruled by thee.”

On the contrary, in the event of a revolution at Nice, there would be
little chance of getting away, by sea or land. My ideas, in this respect,
were in some degree realized; a revolution did take place there, and for
three days the greatest consternation prevailed, as there was an embargo
laid upon all horses at Nice, in order to facilitate the movements of the
king and his government; and at the same time not an English vessel off
the port.

On arriving at Florence, it was my intention to regulate my future
movements according to circumstances, and the alternatives of these
it was not difficult to foresee. In the event of the Austrians being
successful in the first instance, the war was certain to be of short
duration; whereas, on the other hand, if the Neapolitans proved able to
support the onset, there was little doubt but that the whole of Italy
would be in arms, to assert its independence, and to compel a free
constitution from its rulers.

Influenced by these considerations, I determined to proceed, nor have I
found any reason to regret the decision.




CHAP. XII.

VOYAGE TO GENOA.


On the 26th of February, 1821, I left Nice in the Divine Providence
felucca, of eleven tons, bound to Genoa, with a freight of passengers
only, not having been able to procure a cargo.

Some time elapsed, after getting on board, before I felt able to inquire
into the persons, or characters of my fellow-passengers; my mind was
too deeply absorbed in the painful emotions, occasioned by taking leave
of a family with whom I had so long and happily resided, and for whom I
must ever entertain an affectionate regard. In time, however, I found
that, besides myself, our vessel contained three English gentlemen, who,
indeed, had taken their passage at my suggestion, instead of pursuing
their journey to Genoa, over land, with mules, as they had intended.
It was, however, their third attempt to get farther into Italy by sea.
They had first endeavoured to reach Leghorn in an American vessel,
which, on some account or other, put back to Villa Franca: after this
they sailed for Civita Vecchia, but a contrary wind, and roughish sea
arising, after they had left port a few hours, the master of the vessel
became frightened, and notwithstanding, every argument to induce him to
persevere, returned to port. In order to make progress, it is preferable
to coast it in small vessels, rather than trust to the open sea in larger
traders, for they never keep out in bad weather, if it is possible to
reach a port.

Besides these gentlemen, our party consisted of three Frenchmen, and two
ladies, one French, and the other an Italian.

After leaving the harbour, the wind was light and variable, and the water
smooth, so that by dint of rowing and sailing, we proceeded at the rate
of three miles an hour. On arriving off the town, and principality of
Monaco, we stood towards the shore, and took on board three sailors,
belonging to a Sardinian frigate, lying at Genoa, who had been visiting
their friends at Monaco, and agreed to work their passage back to the
former place.

At sunset, the captain provided each of us with a straw mattress for our
repose; my companions, accordingly, laid themselves down for the night
on the floor of the cabin, but I placed mine in preference, on the bench
upon which I had been sitting.

We glided on smoothly until midnight, when the wind changed to the
eastward, accompanied by small rain. The master expecting bad weather,
now bore up for a small port called Cerf, where we anchored about three
o’clock in the morning; at seven, we landed at the town of Cerf, situated
on the side of so steep a hill, that the streets consist of continued
flights of steps. We were conducted to a small auberge, the best however
in the place, where we got some hot water, and refreshed ourselves,
after our miserable night, with tea, cold meat, &c. of which we had
been cautious to lay in good stores before leaving Nice. The care of my
friends had supplied myself with no less than a couple of large tongues,
a dozen loaves, smoked herrings, coffee, sugar, wines, &c. I name these
particulars, because their kind consideration, in the sequel, proved
important to me.

After breakfast, the whole of our party, except the Italian lady and
myself, set off on mules for Genoa, we having determined to remain in
hopes of the wind shortly becoming favourable, in which case, we doubted
not, by pursuing our original plan, still to reach Genoa before them, and
avoid a difficult and expensive journey by land.

To amuse myself in the interim, I visited the church, and also a
miserable auberge, where our captain took me. We here found a number of
low-lived fellows, some playing at cards, and others smoking, drinking,
and quarrelling. On my return to the auberge, I found the Italian lady
solitary, and out of spirits, in consequence of our detention. At five
o’clock, we were asked to take refreshment, and informed, that they
could give us soup and macaroni, but, on tasting the former, it was
composed chiefly of water, with some onions and vermicelli, and a large
quantity of oil floating upon the surface; this fare I could not relish,
and determined to wait until we returned on board, as we intended to
do shortly, in order to take advantage of any favourable change in the
weather, and when I could avail myself of my own stores.

After returning to the vessel, and making a hearty meal, we lay down upon
our mattresses as on the preceding night, myself on the bench, the lady
on the floor, and the captain and crew in the forepart of the vessel.

The wind, which throughout the night had continued fresh, in the morning
became more moderate and favourable; soon after day-light we weighed
anchor, stood out of the harbour, and beat up along shore during the day,
making what sailors call a long leg and a short one, or perhaps what will
be more intelligible, a long tack and a short one, the wind being three
points on the right side of our noses; about evening it freshened, and
was fed by small rain. A Swedish brig passed us at two p.m. which was
running out of the gulf of Genoa, with a fine fair wind. About eight in
the evening, the wind had increased in such a degree, that the captain
thought it necessary to seek shelter for the night, but it was become so
dark, that in running for a place he had been accustomed to, the vessel
took ground, under the lee of some small uninhabited island. The whole
crew, including himself, now made such a hue-and-cry, that one would have
thought, nothing less than immediate destruction was to be the result of
this mistake; however, we made shift to secure the vessel to the rocks,
with an anchor, and it was fortunate that we succeeded in effecting this,
for the wind soon increased to a tremendous gale, with heavy rain, which
continued through the present night, and the following day and night also.

I had now plenty of occupation in calming the fears of my companion,
who, as may be imagined, became dreadfully alarmed; partly with this
intention, and partly from necessity, I changed my mattress from the
bench to the floor; for the former station was too much exposed to the
cold wind and rain, to make it longer tenable. Our cabin was not a
close room, but covered over with a tilted roof like a waggon, and had
temporary canvas screens, at each end, to secure us from the weather.

At length I had the pleasure of succeeding in my attempts to restore
the lady’s confidence, and she afterward amply compensated me by her
cheerful manners, and agreeable conversation. Sterne may dilate upon the
delicacy of his situation by land, when shut up for eight hours in a
room, half as large as our whole ship, and a third person in an adjoining
closet, with a widow lady of thirty, who could coolly draw up articles
to regulate their conduct; but what was his case compared with mine,
enclosed, as I was, for two nights and a day in the cabin of a vessel,
and scarcely within hearing of a living soul, with a young married female
of five-and-twenty, and whom my imagination might lead me to suppose
beautiful as an _Houri_. The whole of this time passed away like a night
to me; for as it was cold, we shut ourselves up close, to keep out the
wind and rain; like our sailors on the northern expedition, during this
state of confinement, it made no difference, whether we dined in the
night or day, for it was just as easy for me to serve out our provisions
in the former, as in the latter; and with respect to sleep, I think I
had the best of it in the day-time, as the lady’s fears were less on
the _qui vive_, for whenever the sea at night struck us a little harder
than usual, she would cry out in terror, “_Monsieur! Monsieur! nous
sommes contre les rochers_,” and I must have had indeed a heart of rock,
had I not poured in all possible consolation: I had the pleasure indeed
of thinking that the assurances of my _animated tongue_, were not less
serviceable to her, than the enjoyment of my _lingua mortua_, which no
doubt contributed very efficaciously to support her strength and spirits,
for I soon found by the lightness of the basket, that her own stores were
insufficient for so prolonged a voyage, or as sailors would express it,
that she was in danger of experiencing a southerly wind in the bread-bag.

It was true that this was Friday, but my fair companion was not in a
situation to think of _maigre_ day, even had it been _Vendrédi saint_
itself. I believe the influence of the French Revolution, has contributed
materially to lessen the superstitions of the Catholic countries, which
have been exposed to its action. I have heard a French officer remark,
that for his part he had met with a sufficient number of maigre days
during the war, and could now afford no more, but must live _gras_ to
make up for what he had lost. The priests still contrive to make many
women, children, and servants, observe their ordinances, but the men have
ventured, pretty generally, to throw off their restraint.

On Saturday, soon after day-break, the lady, peeping out of a hole in
the canvas screen, found that the vessel was moving along, by observing
the masts pass by the trees on shore; and immediately called out aloud
for the captain. We at first attributed her exclamations to her fears;
but soon perceived that the ship was actually drifting from the shore,
and taking the anchor with her. All hands were called, and the anchor
got in, when we fortunately found that the wind, although far from fair,
had become moderate enough, to allow us to make sail, and as the day
advanced, it became still more propitious. About four in the afternoon,
we got round cape Noli, being obliged however to make a few tacks to
accomplish it; at this point I heard the sea beating against the rocks,
and roaring in the hollow caverns, and could perceive, by the motion
of the vessel, that we were near breakers; but so long as our sailors
expressed no fears, I felt no apprehension, as I was satisfied, that
while they could use their eyes they would run no risk. The character
of the Italian, differs widely from that of the British sailor; the
former loses his presence of mind by his fears, and makes confusion more
confused; the latter, so long as his ship continues unbroken, retains his
undaunted spirit, and only contemplates how to apply his energies with
most effect.

    “⸺E’en should danger round his fenceless head,
    Her threatening weight of mountain surges spread,
    He, like a whale, amid the tempest’s roar,
    Smiles at the storm, nor deigns to wish it o’er.”

After weathering cape Noli, the wind became more favourable, and allowed
us to shape our course for Genoa, and had we pursued it properly, I am
persuaded that we might have made the lighthouse of that place in four
hours, but our captain, in reply to my urgency in this respect, stated,
what was certainly not unreasonable, that as his provision was exhausted,
if by any chance we should be blown off the coast, the vessel might be
lost, or the crew perish from hunger. He therefore determined to put into
Noli, off which place we anchored at nine o’clock, when, with a part of
his crew, he immediately went on shore to procure provisions, and amuse
himself.

Noli was formerly a place of some repute, constituting a republic of
fishermen: it is now a mere fishing-town. The castle still remains.

The captain returned between ten and eleven o’clock, and, according to
my request, brought with him some bread and wine to increase my little
store. The bread had a peculiar sweet taste, which, I was informed, was
in consequence of chesnuts being mixed with the wheaten flour. The wine
was good, and made us merry before lying down for the night, and we felt
happy in the prospect of reaching our destined port on the following
day. In the early part of the next morning, on passing Savona, the
captain went on shore, to order some new sails, which he stated were to
be procured cheaper there than at Genoa, and returned at twelve o’clock;
when a contrary breeze having sprung up, he declared his intention of
running into that port, as he was confident that we were going to have
bad weather, and should be obliged to put back to it at last. Thus we had
the mortification of being again detained at the distance of thirty miles
from Genoa, and only ten from the port we had left in the morning, after
having already occupied six days in a voyage, which, with a fair passage,
ought to have been completed in forty-eight hours, and has sometimes been
effected in sixteen.

We anchored at Savona about one o’clock, and experienced a delightful
afternoon. The port at this place is by nature very fine, and was
formerly capable of receiving vessels of war, but has been obstructed
materially at its entrance, by the jealousy of the Genoese, under the
specious pretence of preventing its harbouring hostile shipping.

As there was no prospect of continuing our voyage to-day, my companion
and myself went on shore, after dinner, and amused ourselves with a walk
in the country; after an hour’s march, we reached a small town, named
Albisola, remarkable for its porcelain manufactory; my companion saw,
however, nothing but black plates: on our way, we fell in with a genteel
young man, a native of Albisola, who gave us much local information;
after which, we passed a lady and gentleman, who, we were informed, were
the mayor of the place and his lady, on their way to a concert at Savona.
We found Savona a small neat town, pleasantly situated, and entering some
of the shops, made a few trifling purchases, and were remarkably struck
with the politeness of the Italian shop-keepers. On inquiring the time of
day, we were answered, “twenty-three hours and a half;” this appeared a
very extraordinary manner of noting the time: the fact is, however, that,
in Italy, their calculation always commences at sun-set, which is their
twenty-fourth hour, and consequently, must vary according to the varying
seasons of the year, which makes their mode of computation exceedingly
difficult for a stranger to comprehend. In addition to the above, I had
another indication of being in Italy, from the universal use of that
language; in short, my companion conversed with every one in Italian, and
then translated it for me into French; and I was much pleased with the
specimen I here received both of the manners and language of the country.

In the evening we returned to our vessel to sleep, in order to be
prepared for any favourable change in the wind, but determined, in case
of its not shifting, to disembark with our baggage in the morning, and
proceed to Genoa by land. We were cheerful and happy in the prospect of
our difficulties being soon terminated, and after regaling the crew with
wine, retired to rest.

We rose with day-break, and finding the wind still adverse, after
settling with the captain, went on shore, and taking places in the
voiture to Genoa, determined no longer to be the sport of the winds.
There were but two vacancies in the coach, and finding our anxiety to
proceed with it, the conducteur would fain have taken advantage of it,
but the lady managed the affair well, for offering what she knew to be
the usual sum, viz. five francs for each of us; on their refusal to
accept it, under the plea that there was no other coach that day, we
walked off, and pretended to be indifferent about it: this manœuvre
brought them to, and before we had proceeded the length of a street, the
conducteur came running after us, to say that he was willing to take
us; after this, however, we had some trouble to get our luggage to the
carriage, and were obliged to walk part of the way out of town, in doing
which we were followed by the most importunate host of beggars I had ever
witnessed in my life; my companion was so confused that she could with
difficulty count out her money to pay the porters, &c. At length our
supplicants dropped off, one by one, until we literally out-walked them
all.

I ought not to take leave of Savona, without mentioning, that at this
point the maritime Alps terminate, and the Apennines commence.

About four o’clock, we passed through a village, stated to be the
birth-place of Columbus: this information excited much interest in my
mind: I was led to reflect upon the manner in which his extraordinary
genius had surmounted the various obstacles opposed to his discovery
of a new world, and to regret the supineness of my own country, which
might otherwise have had the honour of participating in so important an
event; but the enlivening conversation of our party, would not admit of
my indulging freely in such speculations, and ere long we made our entry
through the gates of Genoa.




CHAP. XIII.

GENOA.—VOYAGE TO LEGHORN, AND JOURNEY TO FLORENCE.


The narrowness of the streets prevented our coach from setting me down
at the hotel to which I had been recommended; this is not, however, to
be regarded as any evidence of its want of respectability, for the same
objection lies against almost every other hotel in Genoa: for there
are but three streets in the whole city which will admit of carriages
passing each other, and which are, the Strada balba, the Strada nuova,
and the Strada novissima, consisting entirely of ranges of palaces. I
was disappointed in not finding accommodation at the hotel in question,
and therefore, on the solicitations of a man who had followed me all the
way from the coach, went to the Piccolo Paregé, a large house near the
port, with a tower on the top of it, from whence there is a fine view of
the harbour and shipping. After enjoying the luxury of what was formerly
directed by some of the ancients as a religious ceremony, ablution, I
retired to a comfortable bed, for the first time since I left Nice.

In the morning, after calling at the post-office and at the British
consul’s to ascertain the state of the Neapolitan war, I proceeded to
explore the town; the weather was, however, wet, cold, and uncomfortable,
and I was sensible of a very different climate from that of Nice; indeed,
I was informed that, during some of our finest days at the latter place,
it rained or snowed at Genoa.

The succeeding day was the last of the Carnival, and a great number of
people were parading the streets masked, and in all the fantastic garb
of the season; the business, however, appeared to be kept up with more
spirit than at Toulouse on the preceding winter. In the course of the
evening a person with whom I was walking addressed a female mask, who
said she was cook in a gentleman’s family, and that she must hasten
home to wash the dishes; on parting, we induced her to shake hands with
us; and if I am a judge of the affair, I pronounce that _her_ hand had
never been in dish-water, for a prettier formed, or more delicate one,
I never touched in my life. In the evening, the festival concluded with
masked-balls at the theatres, and other amusements.

On the following day (Wednesday), the weather was still unfavourable.
Several gentlemen, to whom I had forwarded letters from their friends at
Nice, called upon me, two of whom conducted me to various parts of the
city, and described its beauties. It is surrounded by two walls; an inner
one, taking in a circumference of six or seven miles, and an outer one,
making a boundary of not less than thirteen miles, and enclosing various
rising grounds which command the city: there are two fine bridges over
small rivers, one in the eastern, the other in the western part of the
town.

Independent of the three streets which I have already named, Genoa
consists of little better than lanes, so numerous and intricate, that a
stranger is constantly losing his way; and even those who have been some
time resident are not unfrequently at a loss. The cathedral, churches,
Doge’s palace, and various other public as well as private buildings, are
very fine, and well worth the attention of the traveller.

There is an Italian proverb relative to Genoa, which says, that it has
“sea without fish; land without trees; and men without faith.” The first
of these accusations I am satisfied is without foundation: for I was
given to understand that fish, as well as all other provisions, were
plentiful, and even cheaper than at Nice. The wine of the country is not
considered good, but excellent Italian and French wines may be purchased
at a reasonable rate; the best and cheapest way of procuring them is
to go on board some vessel in the port, taste the different qualities,
and select what pleases the palate; any quantity may then be ordered,
but it is advisable to be provided with a porter or two to carry it away
immediately, and to take care not to lose sight of it, until it reaches
home in safety, or it will run great risk of being changed.

After spending two or three days longer at Genoa, I engaged for my
passage in a felucca to Leghorn, and what is singular, it had the same
name, the Divine Providence, as the one I had so lately sailed in from
Nice. A great number of vessels of this kind are continually passing
from hence to Leghorn, and the felucca men, if they have an idea of any
one being about to undertake the voyage, are extremely troublesome in
pestering him, as he passes along the streets, to sail with them, and
will even fish the servants at his hotel, to gain intelligence of his
intended proceedings. In arranging the point of fare with them, it is
necessary to be very cautious, as they will ask four times the usual rate.

I agreed for twelve francs, the sum which the master of the felucca had
found out, that I had paid for my passage from Nice; it cost me, however,
half as much more in gratuities, and other expenses, and I had afterward
the mortification to find, that other passengers had secured the same
accommodations, for only five francs each.

About six o’clock on the evening of Saturday, March the 11th, the captain
came to apprize me that the vessel was waiting. On getting on board there
was very little wind, so that throughout the night, we were obliged to
make use of our oars as well as sails; at day-break a breeze sprang up
from the eastward, which obliged us to turn back for fifteen miles,
towards Porto Fino, where we anchored at ten o’clock, and went on shore
to a miserable auberge.

Among our passengers were two French gentlemen who were friends, but of
very opposite characters; the one was volatile, and thoughtless, and
talked of proceeding to Naples, and offering his services to the patriot
army, the other who, we understood, had been a merchant, was sedate and
thoughtful, so that, I dare say, pounds, shillings, and pence might have
been read in his face. The lively one amused us, not a little, with his
eccentricity; he spoke of having a mistress at Genoa, whom he had engaged
to marry that very morning, but he stated that the present was not the
first time of his having proved faithless to her, and seemed to exult in
her disappointment; it, however, appeared in the sequel that he could not
reconcile himself to give her up, for after we entered Porto Fino, he
began to repent, and earnestly solicit his friend to return to Genoa with
him, offering to pay all expenses; at length, the other acceded to his
wishes, and they left us, which was to myself a source of considerable
regret as I lost, at least, one amusing companion, whose language I could
understand, and had no one left with whom I could converse. In order to
get back to Genoa, these gentlemen had to pull five or six miles, in the
midst of a heavy rain, and in an open boat, in a _contrary_ direction,
until they reached the new road making between Genoa and Spezzia.

This road when completed, will be an incalculable advantage to the
communications with the southern parts of Italy; the old road to
Florence, over the mountains, being a very indirect one; although an
expensive undertaking, there is little doubt but that this will be
compensated, as many thousands, who in order to reach southern Italy, now
go by sea to Lerici and Leghorn, will then prefer the journey by land;
and in the event of an equally good communication being formed between
Genoa and Nice, a strong inducement will be offered to the traveller, to
enter this country by that route, particularly in the winter season. This
has been partially effected under the auspices of Bonaparte; the present
Sardinian government, however, are not disposed to carry it forward, as
they are naturally jealous of affording their neighbours, the French, so
easy an access into the heart of their country.

Throughout the remainder of this, and part of the next day, the weather
continued unfavourable, and we made no attempt to leave Porto Fino;
however, in the afternoon of the latter we sailed, but in the evening
it fell calm, and we took to our oars throughout the night; about noon,
on the following day, a light and favourable air sprang up, which
soon increased to a moderate breeze; about three o’clock we arrived
at the entrance of the Gulf of Spezzia, where to my great concern,
notwithstanding I said every thing to induce him to push on as the wind
was fair, the captain persisted in coming to an anchor, when every one
went on shore, excepting two seamen and myself;—had we continued our
course, we should probably have reached Leghorn before daylight on the
following morning; whereas, from the neglect, our voyage was rendered a
most tedious one. The fact was, that the captain and many of his crew,
were at this place, in the midst of their friends.

In the middle of the Gulf of Spezzia there is a constant spring of
fresh water, which is a matter of astonishment to most people, but the
phenomenon is not difficult to account for; as the ancients who were well
acquainted with this gulf, by them termed Porta Luna, do not name it,
it is probably of subsequent occurrence and volcanic origin, and perhaps
supplied from reservoirs contained within the adjacent Apennine mountains.

I was informed by the sailors, that a new light-house is nearly completed
at the entrance of this gulf, which must be a most important security to
vessels passing that way.

The town of Carrara, so celebrated for its quarries of beautiful marble,
used for the purposes of sculpture, is situated in this neighbourhood.

We were tacking about all the following day, and at times assisted with
the weather oars, at which I occasionally took my place, by way of
exercise; in the forenoon we passed the mouth of one river, and in the
evening arrived at the entrance of another, the Sier, distant about eight
miles from the Arno, and twenty from Leghorn.

We entered the mouth of this river, and secured our vessel under a fort,
with the object of procuring provisions, for our Genoa stores were now
nearly exhausted. We had an additional view, to seek for protection and
security, for the weather had become very cloudy, and the captain felt
assured that the night would prove stormy, which in fact it did, a severe
gale, with heavy rain, coming on at ten o’clock.

The whole of the next morning, we had high wind with heavy rain, and I
began to meditate, in case the weather cleared up, walking to Pisa with
the captain, which place was nine miles distant from the fort, and then
taking coach for Leghorn. The captain had, this morning, to go a league
and a half to procure provisions for his crew; these coasting vessels
seldom carry more then three or four days store with them, and in case
of necessity trust to getting into some port for supply, and which they
appear particularly fond of doing. When on the contrary, I urged the
captain to proceed, he would silence me by asking, why he should wish
to go into port, when it would expedite the voyage, and save the extra
expenses of maintaining his crew, to keep out of it?

About noon we had the pleasure of finding it become quite fair, and the
wind favourable; we weighed anchor at two o’clock, and stood towards the
Arno, for the purpose of discharging part of the cargo, consisting of
goods for Pisa; this detained us about an hour; after which we made sail
for Leghorn, with as fresh a breeze as our vessel could stagger under,
and made the port in fine style, running a distance of twelve miles, in
less than an hour and a half. I could hardly credit the circumstance,
when they wanted to thrust me into the boat like a bale of goods; the
fact was, that it was necessary, before we could be allowed to quit the
vessel, to be examined at the health-office, and it wanted but a few
minutes before this would be closed, in which case we should have been
detained on board till morning. I left the vessel, without my baggage,
which the captain promised should be taken on shore immediately after
me; but here he deceived me, for after getting on shore, I was given to
understand that it could not be sent before morning; he offered however,
to accompany me wherever I might wish to go, and I lost no time in making
my way to the Aquila Nira, where I proposed to take up my residence.

After the luxury of washing, and partaking of a good dinner, I retired to
rest, in a bed large enough to contain at least four persons, and where
I was for some hours, incapable of sleeping from excess of enjoyment.
In the morning my baggage was brought according to promise, and the
day being fine, I engaged a valet-de-place to deliver some letters
of introduction, but had the misfortune to find all the gentlemen to
whom they were addressed out of the way; after this I amused myself in
exploring the town.

At the table d’hôte we had a party of twenty-five natives of various
nations, many of whom like myself, had been enjoying the pleasures of
felucca travelling, of which they gave woful accounts. Among them was
a merchant from Saxony, who, hearing that I intended to set off by
diligence for Florence on the following morning, recommended me to take
a place in a _voiture de voyage_ in preference, as both cheaper, and more
expeditious, in consequence of its taking a shorter route, and at the
same time offering to secure me a place in company with himself. This
proposal was very agreeable to me, and after dinner we walked together
to the voiture office, but the clerk was not within; the merchant,
however, assured me, that I need feel no uneasiness respecting a place,
and that all events he would, if necessary, give me up his own, and take
the outside. I then left him, and proceeded with my valet to visit the
English burial ground, where, amongst many other neat tombs, may be seen
that of Smollet, who has here a small monument erected to his memory;
I was not a little affected in tracing, under such circumstances, the
character of this man as deduced from his writings, but I could not spare
time for extending my reflections. A few of the tombs were surrounded by
cypress-trees, others by neat railings of cane-work enclosing a variety
of flowers; the ground is protected by a wall, and the entrance kept
locked, the key being placed under the care of a person, who preserves
every thing neat and clean, and of course expects a small gratuity for
shewing it. I should have been glad to have spent more time in examining
this interesting spot, but had an engagement to meet a gentleman at my
hotel, the time for which was approaching.

Besides this burial ground, there are many objects, in Leghorn, worthy
the notice of the stranger; as the cathedral, a number of churches, the
Greek and Armenian chapels, the Jews’ synagogue, the coral manufactories,
lazarettos, &c. &c.

In the course of this walk, I met two of the English gentlemen, who had
sailed in company with me from Nice, and left us at Cerf; on comparing
notes, I found they had very little the start of me, notwithstanding my
protracted felucca voyage.

The harbour of Leghorn is divided into two ports, the outer one defended
by a pier; large vessels, however, anchor in the roads, about two miles
from this pier; there is a light-house built on a rock, called the
Malora, situated in the open sea, a mile distant from the mole, and which
is lighted every night by means of thirty-two lamps; there is also a
smaller light on the outer pier, within which the merchant-ships lie, the
inner harbour, from its shallowness, being only adapted for boats, and
very small craft.

From the accounts which I received of this city, I should have been glad
to have prolonged my stay in it a few days longer, had I not arranged to
set out for Florence in the morning.

Before leaving Leghorn, I called upon Dr. P⸺ a Scotch medical gentleman,
practising at this place. While at his house, Dr. D⸺ of Florence, for
whom I had letters, came in, having just arrived in charge of the corpse
of Captain Broughton of the royal navy, who had died in that city, and
which he had brought for burial at Leghorn.

Early in the morning I got ready for the voiture, but had the
mortification, notwithstanding the assurances of the Saxony merchant,
to find myself left behind, as it was stated to be quite full; I had,
however, a resource in the diligence, which fortunately was on the point
of starting, with a vacant place, which I immediately secured, paying
twenty-five pauls for my fare.

We stopped at the gates of the town to have our passports and baggage
examined, and I may take this opportunity of remarking, that in both
these respects, I suffered less inconvenience at Leghorn than usual in
consequence of being _un militaire_. In this case, the passport has
only to be signed by the commandant, who does it with much civility,
and without any charge; my baggage was neither inspected on entering or
leaving the town.

We had no conducteur to Florence, and changed the postillion at every
post, who, as in England, expected a gratuity at the end of it; I had
an instance here of the indisposition of native passengers, to give
information to strangers, to prevent their being imposed upon; for one to
whom I applied, on this occasion, evaded a direct answer for a length of
time, before he could be brought to state, that it being a long stage,
and equal to a double post, he should give a paul, being at the rate of
half a paul for each post.

We were driven the first post from Pisa tolerably well, but afterwards,
for a time, made very slow progress, contrary to what I had understood
respecting the rapidity of Florentine travelling. On inquiry, it was
stated, that we should get on faster by paying the postillion extra,
which we then agreed to do, and I am not aware, that I was ever better
driven in my life, than after this compromise.

In about nine hours we arrived at the gates of Florence, where we were
detained some time in the examination of passports and baggage. I here
attempted to take advantage of my experience, at Leghorn, of the value of
a military character, but it would not do; after irritating the Italian
officer, whose language I could not comprehend, but my pretending for
some time not to understand his demand to inspect my baggage, I was
obliged to descend, and lay open my portmanteau. This soon settled the
business, and we shortly after arrived at the Swiss Pension, kept by
Madame Hembert, to which I had been recommended by my slippery Saxony
merchant, and for which at least, I afterwards found my acknowledgments
were due to him.




CHAP. XIV.

FLORENCE, AND JOURNEY TO ROME.


I congratulated myself on having arrived safely at this universally
admired city, and had the additional pleasure of finding the hotel, to
which I had been recommended, exceedingly comfortable; the establishment
was excellent, and the charges, at the same time, reasonable; every thing
was conducted upon a fixed system, the prices for rooms and meals being
undeviating; nor did they charge for any thing which was not actually
partaken of. The rates were as follows:—breakfast, a paul and a half
(the paul being little more than five pence sterling); there was a table
d’hôte at two o’clock, chiefly frequented by merchants of all nations;
and another at five, for the accommodation of those who were travelling
for amusement, comprising amongst other articles a good substantial
English dinner; for each of which, with a good bottle of wine, the charge
was five pauls, somewhat less than half-a-crown sterling; and the bedroom
was charged three pauls per night.

The table d’hôte was nearly over when I arrived, but I contrived to
make a good dinner from the remains of a roasted turkey, during which I
recognised the voice of the Saxony merchant entering the house, and of
whom I had gained ground half an hour; but he did not come near me, for
the two or three days that he remained at this hotel.

I was not disposed to consider my present visit to this city, more than
_en passant_ on my way to Rome, intending to take it more at leisure on
my return; my present observations are therefore to be regarded as very
casual ones.

Madame H⸺ had the kindness to procure me a servant, but it was not easy
to gain much information from him, as he was an Italian, and not in the
least acquainted with the French language; however by his naming, as he
had been ordered, each street and public building, as we passed along,
I soon began to acquire a general idea of the town, and contrived to go
wherever I wished, so as to call upon my friends and explore most parts
of the city; the weather, however, was unfavourable, and, notwithstanding
the advanced state of the spring, both cold and wet, so that for the nine
days I staid at Florence, we were only one day exempt from rain more or
less: as compared with Nice, it might be considered an English climate.

The cathedral is a beautiful edifice, paved with fine marble, as is also
the Duke’s chapel, which is said to contain some exquisite paintings
over the altar. On Sunday I was present at the ceremonies of this chapel,
where I heard some fine vocal and instrumental music; after which I
proceeded to attend divine service at the house of our ambassador, which
is opened for that purpose to English residents and visitors: and I could
not avoid contrasting its devout and simple solemnity, with the pompous
ritual of the Roman church.

There were few public places of amusement open, during my stay at
Florence, it being the season of the Carême, or Lent. I visited the
Theatre Cocomero, and heard the Barber of Seville, an opera so well
known, that it would be superfluous to enter into any description of
it; but I cannot resist stating the extraordinary effect produced upon
me by the singing of the prima Donna. I thought I could have given the
world to have seen her pretty face and figure; the tones and expression
of her voice, however, appeared to connect themselves in my mind, by
pure sympathy, with exact delineations of her person and attitudes, and
to excite the most intense desire to possess the power of vision, which
I ever recollect to have experienced since I had the misfortune to lose
it. I heard, I felt, I saw or _imagined I saw_, every thing which words,
gestures, and actions could convey: I rose, leaned forward, and felt
an almost irresistible impulse to spring upon the stage, to ascertain
whether my ideas were illusive or real; and what may be thought more
strange my desire to see, appeared to originate from a wish to convince
myself that I could not see. I may be thought to overcharge this
description with too vivid or affected sentiment, but I can assure the
reader, that it contains only a small portion of the exquisite feelings
which I experienced.

I am unable to give any account of the state of society at Florence, my
intercourse being confined to a very few friends, who were chiefly former
acquaintance.

I met with a gentleman just arrived from Rome, who assured me that every
thing was quiet and safe there, and I consequently determined, whatever
might be the result of the Austrian and Neapolitan war, to advance
forward to that place; but my determination was still more confirmed, the
day before my proposed departure, by the official news which arrived,
of the Austrians having entered the Neapolitan states, without any
considerable opposition. At the same time we received intelligence of a
revolution having broken out at Turin, Genoa, and Nice, and I could not
but feel an equal concern for my friends at the latter place, with what
they had previously felt for me; but my apprehensions on this score soon
subsided, on finding the effort immediately checked by the Austrians
stepping into Piedmont; so that in fact they appear to have taken upon
themselves the guardianship of all Italy.

On the 27th of March, I left Florence for Rome, by way of Sienna, in
company with an English gentleman, Mr. W. S⸺, and two Italians. It rained
very hard, and the roads were consequently heavy, but our coach was large
and comfortable; the horses were indifferent ones, and I observed one
of our Italian companions express his dissatisfaction, on finding that
we were not to be carried forward by mules, which are more capable of
undergoing fatigue, and, I believe, in this country, twice as valuable as
horses. We did not halt for breakfast until two o’clock in the afternoon,
and as I had taken nothing before leaving Florence, I was really so
unwell about twelve o’clock, that I entreated the driver to allow me to
partake of a piece of bread, which I heard him eating, but he told me he
had just finished it; I felt however sufficiently revived after a hearty
breakfast of mutton-chops, coffee, &c. to be able to walk a few miles,
which we could do at times, as the weather in the afternoon cleared up.
One of our Italian companions was a Roman, and professed himself attached
to mineralogy, and a great traveller, having been amongst the Turks,
Greeks, Egyptians, Persians, and also over the greater part of Europe:
he had, however, yet to visit England, from which he promised himself
great gratification. The plain English of this probably was, that he was
an itinerant dealer in precious stones. Towards evening the rain came on
again, and we had a very heavy journey to Sienna, which we did not reach
until after nine o’clock, when we made a hearty supper, and retired to
bed.

Sienna is described as a pleasant summer residence, but it must from
its vicinity to the Apennines be very wet and cold in winter. There
are several good public as well as private buildings; the streets are
tolerably handsome, but many of them exceedingly steep. The inhabitants
are stated to be hospitable and polished, and to speak the purest Italian
of any modern state. There are said to be many English residents. The
present pope Pius VII. is a native of this place. The cathedral is
magnificent, and particularly famous for its pavement of white marble,
inlaid with Scripture pieces of grey marble, amongst which is Abraham’s
intended sacrifice of his son Isaac. Another piece, representing Moses
striking the Rock, is also greatly admired: the whole, indeed, are of
exquisite workmanship, which it took ages to complete. But as I can give
little other personal account of this place, than what I might derive
from my _dreams_, having passed nearly the whole of the short time I
continued here in bed, I shall say no more respecting it. At six in the
morning we recommenced our journey, notwithstanding which early hour, our
good and pious coachman had been to mass to pray for a safe journey.

We breakfasted at Buono Convento, where the Emperor Henry VII. was
poisoned by a monk with the sacramental wafer, in the year 1314.

The morning was again wet, and the roads rendered very heavy, but in
the afternoon the weather cleared up, and we were enabled to walk for a
couple of hours. At six in the evening, we arrived at an auberge, named
La Scala, where we were to spend the night; it was a single house, placed
at the foot of the hill, and leading up to the village of Radicofani,
situated considerably farther up the mountain, of that name, at a point
inaccessible for carriages; still higher up beyond the village is a rock
of singular form projecting over it, on the top of which stands the
castle Radicofani, the whole forming a most picturesque scene.

Before our arrival at La Scala, a servant had preceded us, and secured
the best apartments for the use of a lady and her family, who were
travelling in another voiture. The lady was stated to be Madame Frimont,
wife of the Austrian general of that name, on her way from Milan to join
her husband at Naples; it is probable, however, that this might be only
a _ruse de guerre_, to secure greater attention; we were glad, however,
to get a supper as we could, and I was obliged to sleep in the same
room with our vittureno, otherwise the poor fellow must have lain down
with his horses in the stable, which it would have been cruel to have
compelled him to have done, particularly as he was the most civil and
accommodating driver I had yet met with; indeed I would sooner have given
up the whole room, than deprived him of half of it.

In the morning, we set off at five o’clock with six horses to ascend the
tremendous hill of Radicofani, and a very severe duty it was for them;
nor could we reasonably relieve them of part of their weight by walking,
as it both rained heavily, and the wind was at the same time boisterous,
and, as we approached the summit, extremely cold. At nine o’clock,
when we had partly descended on the other side, we stopped at the last
village in the Tuscan states, where custom-house officers are stationed
to examine the baggage and passports of travellers; we escaped however
inspection of the former by the payment of a paul each; after this we
proceeded to enter the earthly dominions of his holiness the pope. Soon
after the road became execrably bad, and we stuck so fast in the mud and
ruts, that the poor horses had the greatest difficulty in dragging the
carriage forward; I am informed that this place is in winter frequently
quite impassible; we attempted to walk, but could not proceed without
the risk of being half buried, so that before we resumed our places, our
Italian companions began to cry out for St. Antonio, and half a score
more saints, to come to their assistance.

About noon, we reached the first post in the Roman states, where we
breakfasted at a miserable inn, Madame Frimont making her appearance soon
after us. The day now turned out uncommonly fine, and we proceeded in
good spirits; we were shortly after checked by the custom-house officers
belonging to his holiness, whose scruples, however, were readily silenced
by the sight of a paul from each of us. Shortly afterwards we were
detained, to have our passports examined, at the village of Aquapendente,
famous for being the birth-place of the great anatomist Fabricius. This
detention mortified us exceedingly, as in the interim, Madame Frimont,
of whom we had previously the start, passed without interruption, and
thus got irretrievably a-head of us. This exemption our driver attributed
to the military connexion of the lady, and I believe that, on the same
score, I might have refused an examination of my passport; they had,
however, the assurance to charge us a paul for inspecting them. The road
now became very good, and enabled us to walk for a considerable distance;
and the conversation of the party, who all spoke French, proved very
agreeable. We met, however, with some unpleasant incidents on the way;
amongst which I may name the mangled limbs of a fellow creature who had
been executed, exposed on the road side. This unfortunate wretch had no
doubt been a robber, perhaps a murderer, and a disgrace to human nature;
but granting all this, it appears repugnant to Christian feeling, to
exhibit so disgusting a spectacle to the purer part of the community.
To check the progress of crime, it is doubtless necessary to inflict
punishments, and to make the example more efficacious, to accomplish this
before the public eye; but when the penalty has been paid, surely it
would be preferable to withdraw the remains of mortality, and place them
where they may unoffensively mingle with their parent dust, rather than
to leave

    “What better to oblivion were resign’d,
    Still hung on high to poison half mankind.”

Our detention at Aquapendente caused the evening to close in upon us
before we expected, and it became so dark, when we were about a league
from our destined resting-place for the night, that the driver was
obliged to walk at the head of his horses, and guide them in the right
road. Before we had proceeded far in this way, we were obstructed by a
number of persons with lights in front of us. We had received various
intimations of the dangerous nature of the country we were now in, as
infested with banditti, and which no doubt is attributable to the poverty
of the peasantry, and number of fishermen inhabiting the borders of the
lake of Bolsena, which we were passing at no great distance. We were,
however, relieved from our fears, on finding that the circumstance
arose from a vehicle having broken down in the middle of the road, and
which had detained even our consort voiture, that had passed us at
Aquapendente. It was some time before we could proceed, and we were then
obliged to be guided on our way with lights for two miles, until we
reached the town of Bolsena.

The Austrian lady’s servant, however, had preceded us, and secured all
the best apartments, so that we were obliged to make shift with what were
left: my companions were better able to take care of themselves than I
was, so that I fared worse than any, and was obliged to sleep in the
passage at the head of the stairs.

We certainly thought the lady very inconsiderate, for she not only
secured bed-rooms for herself and children, but had taken one with four
beds in it as a sitting-room, which she might have dispensed with,
particularly as she knew that there was a coach-full of passengers
arrived at the same time. We did not fail to express our sentiments
loudly, both in French and Italian, and in such a manner, that we were
sure of her becoming acquainted with them. In addition, we had to wait
for our supper until she had finished, and this so long, that Mr. W. S.
tired of the delay, went to bed without refreshment.

At six in the morning we recommenced our journey through Montefiascone,
celebrated for its wines, and reached Viterbo for breakfast. A party of
Austrians returning from Naples, unfortunately followed us into the inn,
and carried away the attentions of our host and his myrmidons. After
breakfast, Mr. W. S. and myself set off before our coach, and walked
up the mountain of Viterbo, and when we reached the top experienced a
delightfully refreshing breeze, and my companion was gratified with a
most magnificent view of villas and villages, with lake Vico on the
right, which at first he mistook for the sea. At a distance on the
left, was a palace of the king of Naples. We now re-entered the coach,
and descended the hill with rapidity, contesting the race with Madame
Frimont’s voiture. I cannot say, however, the companionship afforded us
any gratification, as we had all the disadvantages without the pleasures
of it; for we had not once the honour of conversing with the lady, or
of course the merit of voluntarily sacrificing our comforts for her
accommodation; it was all one whether we got in first or last, there
appeared to be so good an understanding between her servant, the drivers,
and the people of the inn, that we were sure to come off only second best.

We reached Ronciglione for the night. At this place, we had the pleasure
of meeting with _Mr. John Bull_, lately from England, but last of all,
from Rome, where he had been studying the _finer arts_, that is, the
arts of eating and drinking, and who was now on his return to his native
city of London, by way of Florence. He had engaged a voiture of the same
description with the one we were travelling in, for the exclusive use
of himself and his servant, _William Simple_, who did not presume to
speak any other language than what his mother had thought right to teach
him, while Mr. Bull, by three months’ practice, and the assistance of a
dictionary, had acquired sufficient Italian to enable him to call for the
various objects of his affection. He was loud in his complaints against
his Italian coachman, _Antonio Sulky_, who, contrary to the assurances
of the person from whom he had hired his carriage at Rome, was disposed
to do everything to please himself, but nothing which he, Mr. Bull,
was desirous should be done. Poor Simple, however, appeared to come
more immediately under his displeasure, for, having neglected to secure
himself a bed, and which he endeavoured to excuse, by saying that he did
not know how to ask for one; “Why you fool,” retorted the master, “go up
stairs, look out for an empty room, lock the door, and put the key in
your pocket.”

Notwithstanding the waiter was too much hurried to think that he had any
right to be civil, I got a pretty good supper and bed, nor was I without
bed-fellows, and had I been as active as they were lively, the dancing
of St. Vitus would not have been comparable with my exertions. But I
comforted myself with the certainty of its being the last night of the
journey, whereas, poor Mr. Bull had but just commenced his. I cannot but
acknowledge, that I amused myself highly with the thoughts of the manner
in which he would be jerked out of the Roman into the Tuscan states, an
operation of which, I am sure he could himself have no idea.

On the following morning, Saturday, March the 31st, we set off at six
o’clock, under the delightful prospect of reaching Rome in the afternoon,
being now only twenty-five miles distant. After a rainy morning, we
arrived about noon for breakfast at a house nine miles from the city;
here Mr. W. S⸺, meeting some friends, took his leave of us. We had a
party of Austrian officers to breakfast at the same table, who treated
me with marked attention, reminding me of our having met at Florence. At
half past one, we pursued our journey, and at length reached the Ponte
Molle, where we crossed the far-famed Tiber,

    “⸺whose yellow water flows
    Around these fields, and fattens as it goes,
    ⸺among the rolling floods,
    Renown’d on earth—esteemed amongst the gods.”

After this, our road lay for two miles along the ancient Via Flaminia,
to the gate formerly of the same name, but now degraded to the vulgar
appellation of Porto del Popolo,—that gate, which once poured forth a
race of heroes, almost the rivals of the gods themselves, the founders of
the glory of Rome, and supporters of its virtue.

    “Illustrious names! that once in Latium shin’d,
    Born to instruct, and to command mankind;
    Chiefs, by whose virtue, mighty Rome was raised,
    And poets, who those chiefs sublimely praised.”

It is impossible to describe the feelings which overpowered me, when
after passing through this gate, I found myself in the midst of that
city, to which my most ardent wishes had been directing me—the once
celebrated, and yet interesting Rome,—which

    “Propt on seven hills, sat like a sceptered queen,
    And aw’d the tributary world to peace.”

Now, alas! little more than a monument, and shadow, of her former
greatness. “_How art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the
nations._”

Before concluding the present chapter, it may not be unacceptable to such
travellers, as propose to pass from Florence to Rome, by way of Sienna,
to state various circumstances, which may be useful in directing their
proceedings. In the first place, I shall allude to the contract I had
made with the proprietor of the voiture. My bargain was, that we should
leave Florence on a fixed day, and proceed forward to Rome, occupying
five days and four nights on the journey, resting on the successive
nights at the following places, viz. Sienna, La Scala, Bolsena, and
Ronciglione. He was to convey myself and luggage, providing me with
coffee every morning before setting out, breakfast about noon, and a
supper and bed at night; bearing every expense, excepting custom-house
fees; for these advantages, I agreed to pay him three Napoleons and a
half, with a _buona mana_ of five francs on arriving at Rome, in case he
conducted himself properly.

From experience, I would now recommend as a modification of the above
plan, after reaching Sienna on the first night, to rest there for a day
or two, which not only gives an opportunity of seeing this interesting
town, but serves to recruit the horses, or mules, so as to expedite the
remainder of the journey. It will be desirable to leave Sienna at four
o’clock in the morning, in order to reach La Scala in time to secure good
accommodations; in addition, by arriving early, the horses will have
a prolonged rest, before undertaking, the next morning, the fatiguing
journey over Radicofani: after staying the third night at Bolsena, it is
very necessary to set off early on the following morning, to enable you
to reach Ronciglione; for although better accommodation might be found at
Viterbo, this place is too distant, to make it easy to reach Rome on the
following evening, and there is no town between these points which offers
any comfortable accommodation.

On arriving at the gates of Rome, your carriage will be taken possession
of by custom-house officers, termed _doganieri_, who conduct you to the
custom-house, where a close inspection of baggage takes place; but it is
possible to avoid this detention, by writing to your banker, to obtain a
_lascia passare_, or permission to pass, which should be left directed
for you at the gate.

Possibly, instead of contracting with the vittureno to perform the
journey in a limited time, it might be preferable to engage with him by
the day. In this case, you might rest for any time on the road, when
points of interest presented themselves; or if he behaved ill, or from
any cause became unable to proceed, he might be discharged.




CHAP. XV.

ROME.


I took up my residence at Francis’s hotel, in the Strada Conducto; this
house has a table d’hôte, said to be the only one in Rome, ready at four
o’clock, and consisting of partly an Italian, and partly an English
dinner, for which, with a bottle or more of good wine, they charge six
pauls, equal to about two shillings and nine pence sterling. The house
being very full, I did not succeed in getting so good a bed-room as I
could have wished.

In the morning, I engaged a _servitore de piazza_, or _valet de
place_, and sallied forth to deliver the letters with which I had been
intrusted, and particularly to call upon Dr. Clarke, to whom I had an
introduction. After attending the English divine service, I visited that
most magnificent of all Christian temples, the church of St. Peter’s, in
which every Christian country in the world, at the time of its erection,
may fairly claim a proprietorship, as each contributed largely to its
edification. On entering it, I felt myself impressed with awe and
veneration, and notwithstanding the distinctions of ceremony, did not
fail to offer up my humble adoration and thanks to the Almighty, for his
protection, and mercies so abundantly bestowed upon me, since the first
moment of my existence.

It would be ridiculous in me to attempt a description of this grand and
magnificent structure, while so many correct and interesting delineations
exist.

I spent the evening at Dr. Clarke’s, where I had the pleasure of meeting
a gentleman, Mr. L⸺, who had been robbed three nights before, on his
return from Tivoli. He did me the favour to relate the circumstances,
which were as follow:

Having, with three other gentlemen, engaged a carriage for the day, to
see the falls of Tivoli, the party imprudently deferred their return,
until the approach of evening. On arriving within two miles of Rome,
they were compelled to turn out for a short distance, into a temporary
road, in consequence of the main one being under repair; here, from the
darkness of the night, which had become so intense that they could not
see their horses’ heads, the coachman lost his way, and was obliged to
make inquiries of various charcoal drivers, whom they fell in with; as
they were on the point of regaining the main road, the coachman cried out
“_Genti, Genti_,” immediately upon which, the carriage was surrounded by
banditti. The gentlemen attempted to rush out of the carriage, in hopes
of escaping through the darkness of the night, but, with the exception
of Mr. L⸺, were immediately secured and plundered. The latter gentleman,
after having a musket discharged at him, the fire of which singed his
coat and waistcoat, while the ball passed so near as to leave a black
mark on his side, succeeded in getting to a dry ditch, bounded by a wall,
which he in vain attempted to scale; he therefore determined to lie quiet
until the affair was over, taking a valuable watch out of his pocket, and
concealing it in one of his gaiters: shortly after, he heard his friends
calling him by name, and concluding that the robbers were gone, quitted
his place of concealment, in order to rejoin them, when, to his great
surprise, he was seized and plundered. They felt for his watch, which he
pretended not to have with him, but this would not do; with a dagger at
his breast, they menaced instant death if it was not produced; he then
stated that he had left it at his place of concealment, and begged them
to accompany him to search for it, when after pretending to seek for it,
he gave it up, requesting that one particular seal might be returned:
this however, after a consultation with their captain, was refused.

The banditti now departed, directing them not to stir until they were
off the ground, when they proceeded without farther interruption to
Rome. The reason of Mr. L⸺ being called by his friends to be robbed, was
this; that the banditti, fully aware of a fourth person having escaped,
threatened to murder the whole of the three, unless he was produced,
so that they found it necessary for their own safety to discover him.
One of the gentlemen was slightly wounded in the hand by a stiletto, in
his attempt to escape. On reaching Rome, they immediately repaired to
the police, who expressed concern, but took the matter very cooly, and
instead of sending out a party in pursuit, desired them to call again
in the morning; and here the affair ended. Strong suspicion fell on the
charcoal drivers, for they had passed many of their carts just before;
and such persons, as well as the peasantry of this country, are notorious
robbers, whenever a convenient opportunity offers.

I shall follow up the above anecdote, with an account of another
occurrence of the same nature, that took place about this time.

A French ship of war having put into Civita Vecchia, the captain, with
his surgeon and another officer, engaged a carriage to take them to Rome;
at one o’clock they stopped to dine at a small village, and set off again
at three; soon after this they all fell into a sleep, from which they
were roused by four peasant-like fellows, armed with muskets, who made
them get out of the coach, and lie on the ground upon their faces, one
man standing sentry over each officer, while the fourth plundered the
carriage; while this was proceeding, the captain ventured to propose to
his companions, in French, which the banditti did not understand, that
each should spring up, at a signal, and seize his guard by surprise,
expressing his belief that he could overpower his man before the one
from the coach could get to assist him, in which case he should be ready
for his reception; the proposal was acceded to; the word given, and
the attack made; after a severe struggle they succeeded in disarming
the whole four, who scampered off, the Frenchmen firing after them in
their retreat, and wounding one of them; they then entered Rome with the
captured muskets in triumph.

On the following day, after delivering letters and arranging some private
business, I visited Monte Cavallo, so named from two colossal statues
representing Castor and Pollux, each holding a horse. The figures of
these gods are remarkably fine antiques, the one supposed to be the
production of Phidias, the other of Praxiteles, and once adorned Athens.
The horses are very inferior, and of modern workmanship. Afterward I
returned to dinner at my hotel, and had the pleasure of meeting there
Count K⸺, whom I had known at Nice. Two English ladies also dined to-day
at our table d’hôte; and some American naval officers belonging to the
Peacock sloop, who had been cruizing off the coast of Barbary; these
gentlemen, from the similarity of their uniform, were, by some of the
English, mistaken for British officers.

As I proposed to spend at least a month in Rome, and found the bustle
of an hotel unpleasant, Dr. Clark did me the favour to procure me
comfortable lodgings in the Piazza di Spagnia, and within a very short
distance of his own residence. I cannot too strongly acknowledge the
kindness of this gentleman and his lady, during my residence in this city.

On Wednesday, the fourth of April, I began, in company with two friends,
to examine the remains of antiquity which abound in this city. We first
directed our steps to Trajan’s pillar, in our way to which we passed a
parade of his holiness’s soldiers; they were fine bodied men, but their
state of discipline evidenced the degeneracy of the warriors of modern
Rome.

We now ascended the pillar of Trajan, by a spiral staircase of one
hundred and eighty-three steps, cut out of solid marble, twenty-three
blocks of which, placed horizontally one over the other, compose the
column; from the summit, which is surrounded by an iron railing, there
is a fine view of the city. This beautiful pillar had formerly a gilded
bronze statue of the emperor Trajan placed on its summit, with a globe
in his hand, containing his own ashes, which was, by Pope Sextus the
Fifth, exchanged for one of St. Peter. At its lower extremity the pillar
is twelve feet in diameter, gradually diminishing as it ascends to ten;
the height, from the base to the top of the statue, is one hundred and
thirty-three feet; the outside of the column is beautifully ornamented in
basso relievo, with a representation of the Dacian war, admirably wrought
on a continued spiral line from the bottom of the column to its top, as a
memorial of his success in which, the Roman senate erected and dedicated
this noble structure to the emperor, whose name it still bears. The spot,
on which it stands, was formerly the centre of the forum of Trajan.

After this we walked over what was once the celebrated Forum Romanum,
originally built by Romulus, and where the courts of justice were held.
This once important square, now known by the name of the Campo Vaccino,
was supposed to have been seven hundred and fifty feet in length and five
hundred broad.

From hence we extended our walk to the Palatine-hill, passing near the
Via Sacra, which lay about eight or ten feet below us, and from which
the rubbish had been cleared to make it visible; we then pursued our way
to the baths of Livy; the Coliseum; and the tomb of Cestius, which is a
pyramidal structure, one hundred and twenty feet in height, and ninety
square at its base; it is situated adjoining to the wall of the city,
very near the burial ground for foreigners, amongst the various tombs of
which my companions noticed several with English inscriptions.

We now passed on to Monte Testaccio, which has derived its existence and
name, from the quantities of broken vases, mixed with rubbish, which have
been deposited upon its site. The top of this mound is surmounted by a
cross.

Although our Ciceroni were much fatigued with their excursion, we
could not forbear visiting the Tarpeian Rock, and the Pantheon. On our
return, as it was too late for Francis’s table d’hôte, we dined at a
_trattorias_, where a variety of dishes are kept ready cooked, or ready
for cooking at a moment’s notice. They have also a great variety of
good wines, and amongst the rest, we here tasted the Orvieto, so justly
extolled as a delicious beverage, and which reminded me forcibly of good
bottled Devonshire cider.

During my residence at Rome, I generally preferred dining at one of
these houses, as possessing some advantages over the table d’hôte;
strangers find here a great facility in acquiring the language, as the
conversation is carried on almost exclusively in the Italian tongue;
while, at the same time, an Englishman is sure to meet with numbers
of his countrymen. The present was the season of Lent, when Rome is
generally thought to be badly supplied with provisions; I was not,
however, conscious of any deficiency, except in the article of lamb,
which is forbidden to be sold or made use of during this season; but they
contrive to have young kid as a substitute, and which is made use of in
great abundance. I am told that different houses of entertainment pay the
pope for a licence to serve heretics, during the season of Lent, with
forbidden viands.

On the following day, being Thursday, I visited the Vatican for the
first time: this museum is open for public inspection every Thursday and
Sunday, but it is possible to gain admittance on any other day, and also
to see it in the evening by torch-light, although by a late regulation,
the nocturnal parties are restricted to twelve persons at a time, as many
as can see the rooms with advantage.

My feelings on entering the museum of the finest sculpture in the world,
were not of that rapturous nature, which I hear every amateur of this
beautiful and interesting art, or even a common observer, express. No! it
was not with me as with others, who, on entering the room, are struck by
a collection of the finest statues bursting on their view, not knowing
what first, or most to admire, being for a time lost in the confusion of
delightful variety, and viewing them collectively, before they can fix
their attention on any single object; how different were my feelings! for
when it was announced that I was in the midst of these exquisite works of
art, although my imagination was raised to the highest pitch, and well
adapted to supply the deficiency of visual organs, it could but faintly
convey to my mind, the impressions which an ocular inspection, as above
described, must have excited. This coup d’œil, with me, was not only
wanting, but I had to walk up to each statue in rotation, and listen to
a tame description of its beauties. I was even not allowed the advantage
of examining by the touch, as soldiers were placed in each apartment,
to prevent such violation: had I been freely permitted this kind of
examination, I doubt not, that I might have been as highly gratified as
those who saw, for the sense of touch conveys to my mind as clear, or
at least as satisfactory, ideas of the form, and I think I may add, the
force of expression, as sight does to others. I did occasionally examine
them in this way by stealth, when I was apprised that the soldiers’ backs
were turned towards me.

After leaving the Vatican, I walked with a friend in the gardens of the
Villa Medici, where we met the Cardinal Pacca, to whom I had the honour
of being introduced, and who behaved in the most polite and affable
manner, conversing with me for some time in French.

On Saturday, the 12th of April, a criminal was guillotined in the
Piazza del Popolo, for committing various robberies and murders,
notwithstanding, he was only twenty-three years of age. Criminals are
not here arraigned before their judge and accusers, but the charge
is examined, and the sentence awarded in private; nor is the convict
acquainted with the nature of his sentence, if the punishment of death is
decreed, until the middle of the night before execution, when a priest
gives the information, and urges him to confession, in which case,
the sentence is carried into effect at nine o’clock in the morning;
otherwise, if he refuses to confess, it is deferred until three in the
afternoon.

In the middle of the night, of the 11th and 12th of April, a fire broke
out in the house where one of my particular friends, Mr. H⸺, resided, and
which compelled him to remove Mrs. H⸺, his family, and valuable effects,
in the first instance, into the middle of the street, and afterwards
to the residence of a friend. The accident originated in the apartment
of an Italian lawyer, who resided on the floor above Mr. H⸺, and, in
consequence of a drunken servant dropping a candle on his straw mattress;
the whole room was soon in flames, which burst out from the windows, and
made a most frightful appearance, but were at length extinguished by
throwing in buckets of water, and without communicating beyond the room
in which they commenced. Perhaps I ought rather to say, they extinguished
themselves for want of more fuel, having lasted until the few contents of
the room were consumed, being prevented from extending, in consequence
of the stone floors and staircase, and the thickly plastered walls. The
engines were brought, and immense crowds of people assembled, evidently
for amusement, for although Mr. H⸺ exerted himself to the utmost to
extinguish the flames, he could not induce the by-standers to give
the least assistance. In the morning, his family returned to their
apartments, without having sustained any other injury than the fright.

On Sunday I attended divine service, at the English place of worship,
which was a large room in the house of Mrs. L⸺. After this I visited the
Capitol, where I met with no one to prevent my touching the statues, &c.
In the evening, we had some delightful music and singing in the Chiesa
Nuova, the operatic character of which, however, impressed me more with
the idea of a theatre, than a church. After this we concluded the day at
Dr. C⸺’s.

We had now several rainy days, which prevented my getting out as usual.
On Thursday the 12th, I again visited the Vatican, with increased
pleasure, as I was enabled to recognise many of the statues as old
acquaintances. On the following day, Mr. C⸺ and myself visited the
churches of St. Pietro in Vinculis; Sta. Maria Maggiore; St. Martin; and
the chapel of Remus.

We afterward explored the baths of Titus, the Forum, and the Coliseum.
At the latter, we remained some time examining the Arena; we ascended
the long staircases; traversed the encircling corridors; looked into the
baker’s oven; and carried off, as sacred relics, a small piece of brick
pavement, and one of the many wild plants, which grew upon the walls.
During this research, a monk, attended by a number of followers, entered
the Amphitheatre, took his station near the centre, and treated us with
an exhibition of very correspondent character, to what had so frequently
been displayed on this spot, during the periods of the glory of Rome.
He paced backwards and forwards upon the space of a few yards, ranting
most violently, and accompanying his voice with such gesticulations and
actions, that he might, by a slight effort of imagination, have been
readily mistaken for a wild beast displaying on the Arena. I am almost
ashamed to acknowledge, that a ludicrous comparison of former, with
present times, suggested itself to our minds while he was detailing to
an admiring and approving audience, in this roaring manner, the virtues
of the blessed Virgin, and asserting her claims to be worshipped in
preference to our Saviour himself, and every other power in heaven or on
earth, above or below; the only cool spectators besides ourselves, were
three German artists, who, however, paid a greater compliment to the
orator than we did, for although they continued their sketches of the
building, they took off their hats out of respect for the religion of the
country.




CHAP. XVI.

ROME.


The ensuing week was the holy one preceding Easter, and of course
observed at Rome with extraordinary solemnity.

On the Sunday, being Palm-Sunday, the pope entered the Sistine chapel
about nine o’clock, when the ceremony commences; but I shall not
attempt to describe the various arrangements of the great and little
palm-branches, or the number of kisses bestowed on the pontiff’s hand and
toe.

On Monday we had a rainy morning, but it cleared off in the afternoon.
About four o’clock the king of Naples arrived on his way from Florence,
and was received with salutes of cannons, bands of music, and other
honours.

Tuesday was also a rainy day, and I did not attend the ceremonies of
the Roman church. To-day a select party of friends dined at Francis’s
hotel, and amongst the rest a young American physician, Dr. G⸺, who had
been a companion of my friend Mr. C⸺ and his son, in a felucca voyage
from Naples, and for the last three weeks had been laid up in the house
with a fever, taken from exposure on their journey to the Malaria, or
exhalations arising from the marshy grounds about the mouth of the
Tiber, where they were detained two days, by the necessity of obtaining
permission from Cardinal Gonsalvi to land. The vessel they had engaged,
had previously been employed in the charcoal trade, and the gentlemen
having ordered a quantity of clean straw to be placed in the hold as a
more commodious birth, the consequence was, that the coal dust, from the
motion of the vessel, worked up into the straw from the chinks between
the boards, so that in the morning, when they turned out, they were
astonished to find they were become as dirty and swarthy as Neapolitan
sailors themselves.

There are three _misereres_ performed in Passion week: the first was sung
on Wednesday; the second on Thursday, and the last on Good Friday; all of
which I attended. To describe as they merit, these exquisite pieces of
vocal music, requires a power which I do not possess; they must be heard
to be comprehended; it appears to me beyond the reach of art, to bring an
assemblage of human voices to the perfection which was here attained; and
to produce such modulations of heavenly harmony: had I not been assured
to the contrary, I could not have believed but they must have been
assisted by the finest-toned instruments:—

    “Can any mortal mixture of earth’s mould
    Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment?”

Much as I had heard of the rapturous effect; it far exceeded any
expectation I had formed; notwithstanding, it is unusual to find
the objects of extravagant eulogy, afford a real, or proportionate,
gratification.

    “⸺such a sacred and home-felt delight
    Such sober certainty of waking bliss,
    I never heard till now⸺”

On Good Friday, after the last miserere, we went to St. Peter’s, where
a most brilliantly illuminated cross was suspended; we did not however,
continue there long, being almost satiated with these raree-shows. I then
had the pleasure of spending a quiet evening with my friends Mr. and Mrs.
H⸺, to whose interest I had been indebted for securing my places at each
of the misereres, as well as for many other kind attentions during my
stay in Rome.

Easter Sunday at length arrived, which in every respect, and particularly
in point of pageantry, is the greatest festival observed by the Roman
church throughout the year. The two first grand ceremonies of the
procession, and the pope’s benediction, I did not attend. I was present,
however, at the illumination of St. Peter’s, and the exhibition
of fire-works at the castle of St. Angelo; but, alas! denied the
gratification of seeing the brilliant spectacles. I cannot, however,
resist the inclination to transcribe the following animated description
of these enchanting scenes, as well as the preceding ceremonies,
extracted from a late publication, entitled “Rome in the Nineteenth
Century.”

“On this day the church puts forth all her pomp and splendour. The
pope assists at high mass, and there is a procession, which, seen to
the highest advantage in that noble church, is as grand as any such
procession can be. A pen was erected for the ladies on the left of the
high altar, for wherever the pope comes, they are always cooped up for
fear of accidents. Luckily, however, it was unprovided with a grate,
so they could see more to perfection. It was, in all respects, a happy
liberation from the gloomy imprisonment they had been sustaining, day
after day, behind the grate, in the sistine chapel. The sable robes that
they wore during the last week, were now universally thrown aside, and
the gayer—the more catholicly orthodox—were they.

“The church was lined with the Guarda Nobili, in their splendid uniforms
of gold and scarlet, and nodding plumes of white ostrich feathers; and
the Swiss guards, with their polished cuirasses and steel helmets. The
great centre aisle was kept clear by a double wall of armed men, for
the grand procession, the approach of which, after much expectation,
was proclaimed by the sound of a trumpet, from the farther end of the
church. A long band of priests advanced, loaded with still augmenting
magnificence, as they ascended to the higher orders. Cloth of gold and
embroidery of gold and silver, and crimson velvet, and mantles of spotted
ermine, and flowing trains, and attendant train-bearers, and mitres,
and crucifixes glittering with jewels, and priests, and patriarchs, and
bishops, and cardinals, dazzled our astonished eyes, and filled the long
length of St. Peter’s. Lastly came the pope in his crimson chair of
state, borne on the shoulders of twenty Palefrenieri, arrayed in robes of
white, and wearing the tiara, or triple crown of the conjoined Trinity,
with a canopy of cloth of silver, floating over his head, and preceded
by two men, carrying enormous fans, composed of large plumes of ostrich
feathers, mounted on long gilded wands. He stopped to pay his adorations
to the miraculous Madonna, in her chapel, about half way up; and this
duty, which he never omits, being performed, he was slowly borne past
the high altar, liberally giving his benediction with the twirl of his
fingers as he passed. They sat him down upon a magnificent stool, in
front of the altar, on which he knelt, and the crown being taken off, and
the cardinals taking off their little red scull-caps, and all kneeling in
a row, he was supposed to pray. Having remained in this attitude a few
minutes, they took him to the chair prepared for him, on the right of the
throne. There he read, or seemed to read, something out of a book, for it
was impossible, that without his spectacles, he could really make it out;
and then he was again taken to the altar, on which his tiara was placed;
and bareheaded, he repeated, or as by courtesy they call it, sang a small
part of the service, threw up clouds of incense, and was removed to the
crimson canopied throne, and high mass was celebrated by a cardinal and
two bishops, at which he assisted, that is, he got up and sat down, in
particular parts.

“During the whole service, I could not help observing, that the only part
of the congregation who where in the least attentive, were the small
body of English, whom curiosity, and perhaps sense of decorum, rendered
so. All the Italians seemed to consider it quite as much of a pageant
as ourselves, but neither a new, nor an interesting one; and they were
walking about, and talking, and interchanging pinches of snuff with each
other, exactly as if it had been a place of amusement, till the tinkling
of a little bell, which announced the elevation of the Host, changed the
scene. Every knee was now bent to the earth; every voice was hushed; the
reversed arms of the military rung with an instantaneous clang on the
marble pavement, as they sunk on the ground, and all was still as death.
This did not last above two minutes. The Host was swallowed; and so begun
and ended the only thing that bore even the smallest outward aspect of
religion. They brought the pope, however, again to the footstool to pray.
Two cardinals always support him, some priestly attendants bear up his
train, and others busy themselves about his drapery, while two or three
others put on and off his tiara and mitre; and so conduct him to and
fro, between the altar and the throne, where he sits at the top of his
magnificent temple, exactly like an idol dressed up to be worshipped. The
long silver robes, the pale, dead, inanimate countenance, and helpless
appearance of the good old man, tend still more to give him the air of a
thing without any will of its own, but which is carried about, and set in
motion, and managed by the priests, and taught by them to make certain
movements.

“At last they put him again into the chair, set the crown upon his
head, and, preceded by the great ostrich feather fans, he was borne out
of the church. We made all possible expedition up to the loggia,—a
temporary sort of gallery, erected on the top of the colonnade, opposite
to that occupied by the royal families,—and secured places in the front
row. An expecting crowd had long covered the broad expanded steps, and
platform of the church, and spread itself over the piazza. The military
now poured out of St. Peter’s and formed an immense ring, before its
spacious front, behind which the horse guards were drawn up, and an
immense number of carriages, filled with splendidly dressed women, and
thousands of people on foot, were assembled. But the multitude almost
shrunk into insignificance in the vast area of the piazza; and neither
piety, curiosity, nor even that all universal gregarious passion, that
makes people crowd wherever there is a crowd, had collected together
sufficient numbers to fill it. The tops of the colonnades all round,
were, however thronged with spectators; and it was a curious sight to
see such a mixture of all ranks and nations,—from the coronetted heads
of kings, to the poor cripple who crawled along the pavement,—assembled
together to await the blessing of an old man, their fellow-mortal, now
tottering on the brink of the grave. Not the least picturesque figures
among the throng, were the Contadini, who, in every variety of curious
costume, had flocked in from their distant mountain villages, to receive
the blessing of the holy father, and whose bright and eager countenances,
shaded by their long dark hair, were turned to the balcony where the
pope was to appear. At length the two white ostrich feather fans, the
forerunners of his approach, were seen, and he was borne forward on his
throne above the shoulders of the cardinals and bishops, who filled the
balcony. After an audible prayer, he arose, and elevating his hands
to heaven, invoked a solemn benediction upon the assembled multitude,
and all the people committed to his charge. Every head was uncovered,
the soldiers, and many of the spectators, sunk on their knees on the
pavement to receive the blessing. That blessing was given with impressive
solemnity, but with little gesture and parade. Immediately the thundering
of cannon from the castle of St. Angelo, and the peal of bells from St.
Peter’s, proclaimed the joyful tidings to the skies. The pope was borne
out, and the people rose from their knees; but at least one half of them
had never knelt at all, which greatly diminished the impressive effect of
the whole. I forgot to say, that, after the benediction, several papers
were thrown down by one of the cardinals, which contained, I understand,
the indulgence granted to the different churches, and a most pious
scuffle ensued among the people to catch them. The pope’s benediction
this day, the Italians say, extends all over the world, but on Thursday,
it only goes to the gates of Rome. On Thursday too, previous to the
benediction, one of the cardinals curses all Jews, Turks, and heretics,
‘by bell, book, and candle.’ The little bell is rung, the curse is sung
from the book, and the lighted taper thrown down amongst the people. The
pope’s benediction immediately follows upon all true believers. At Ave
Maria we took our station on the right of the farther extremity of the
piazza of St. Peter’s, so as to lose the deformity of the dark dingy
Vatican Palace. The gathering shades of night, rendered the illumination
every moment more brilliant.

“The whole of this immense church,—its columns, capitals, cornices, and
pediments,—the beautiful swell of the lofty dome, towering into heaven,
the ribs converging into one point at top, surmounted by the lantern of
the church, and crowned by the cross,—all were designed in lines of fire;
and the vast sweep of the circling colonnades, in every rib, line, mould,
cornice, and column, were resplendent in the same beautiful light.

“While we were gazing upon it, suddenly a bell chimed. On the cross, at
the top, waved a brilliant light, as if wielded by some celestial hand,
and instantly ten thousand globes, and stars of vivid fire, seemed to
roll spontaneously along the building, as if by magic; and self-kindled,
it blazed in a moment into one dazzling flood of glory. Fancy herself,
in her most sportive mood, could scarcely have conceived so wonderful a
spectacle, as the instantaneous illumination of this magnificent fabric.
The agents by whom it was effected were unseen, and it seemed to be
the work of enchantment. In the first instance, the illuminations had
appeared to be complete, and one could not dream, that thousands, and
tens of thousands of lamps were still to be illuminated. Their vivid
blazes harmonized beautifully with the softer, milder light of the
lanternoni.

“The brilliant glow of the whole illumination shed a rosy light upon
the fountains, whose silver fall, and ever-playing showers, accorded
well with the magic of the scene. Viewed from the Trinita de’ Monti, its
effect was unspeakably beautiful. It seemed to be an enchanted palace,
hung in air, and called up by the wand of some invisible spirit.

“We did not, however, drive to the Trinita de’ Monti, till after the
exhibition of the girandola, or great fireworks, from the castle of St.
Angelo, which commences by a tremendous explosion, that represented the
raging eruption of a volcano. Red sheets of fire seemed to blaze upwards
into the glowing heavens, and then to pour down their liquid stream upon
the earth. This was followed by an incessant, and complicated display
of every varied device that imagination could figure,—one changing into
another, and the beauty of the first, effaced by that of the last.
Hundreds of immense wheels turned round with a velocity that almost
seemed as if demons were whirling them, letting fall thousands of hissing
dragons, and scorpions, and fiery snakes, whose long convolutions,
darting forward as far as the eye could reach in every direction, at
length vanished into air. Fountains, and jets of fire, threw up their
blazing cascades into the skies.

“The whole vault of heaven shone with the vivid fires, and seemed to
receive into itself innumerable stars and suns, which shooting up into
it, in brightness almost insufferable,—vanished—like earth-born hopes.
The reflection in the depth of the calm clear water of the Tiber, was
scarcely less beautiful than the spectacle itself, and the whole ended
in a tremendous burst of fire, which, while it lasted, almost seemed to
threaten conflagration to the world.

“The expense of the illumination of St. Peter’s, and of the girandola,
when repeated two successive evenings, as they invariably are at the
festival of St. Peter, is one thousand crowns; when only exhibited
one night, they cost seven hundred. Eighty men were employed in the
instantaneous illuminations of the lamps, which to us seemed the work of
enchantment. They were so posted as to be unseen.”

The conclusion of these ceremonies impresses one forcibly, with the
same feelings as the termination of a theatrical performance, when the
green curtain descends, and conceals from view the various actors of the
drama, all as yet retaining their appropriate situations, and ready to
recommence the exhibition, when the appointed period again comes round;
while the spectators hasten away to their respective homes carrying with
them vivid ideas of the pageantry with which they have been amused: thus
was it with Rome, which, like a vast amphitheatre, now began to pour
forth in all directions, the crowds of visitors, whom this scene of
pleasure, or sentiments of devotion, had attracted.

It was not a little interesting to contrast these religious spectacles
of modern, with the gigantic and martial amusements of ancient Rome; nor
is it possible to receive otherwise than a melancholy impression, of the
comparative littleness of the former, as well as the mistaken policy,
which has perverted the pure simplicity of a religion, primitively
plain and unadorned as that of Christianity, into the ground-work, and
vehicle, of affected ceremonial and gorgeous pageantry, for the purpose
of enslaving the human mind. Nor, after all, does any part of this
imposing scene strongly affect the imagination, so as to realize the
ideal expectation of its participators, except indeed the all powerful
and sublime misereres; the illumination of St. Peter’s; and the fireworks
of St. Angelo. These, indeed, work upon the mind with magic charms, and
transport it into a fairy world, beyond the limits of mortality.

I had a great desire to ascend to the summit of St. Peter’s,
notwithstanding a prohibition had lately been issued against persons
going up to the cross, on account, it was said, of a young English
midshipman having ascended late one evening, and attached privately to it
an union Jack, which he had carried in his pocket; so that next morning
the British flag was seen flying over the once mighty city of Rome. I
should rather however imagine, that the prohibition arose from fear of
accidents.

On leaving the church, we ascended a broad staircase formed of stone
steps, so easy of ascent, that you might have rode up or down with
perfect safety, which led to the upper part of the body of the church,
whence its dome springs, and where you are astonished by the vast extent
of the roof, with ranges of small houses and workshops upon it. Stone
seats are also placed for the accommodation of visitors, from whence may
be seen the cupolas of the side chapels, which are invisible from below.
I determined, however, to proceed into the ball, which every one is
permitted to do.

From this point we ascended the wonderful, and stupendous dome, by a
succession of staircases, each terminating in a gallery, from whence a
noble view of the city and surrounding country is to be seen.

The staircases gradually decreased as we ascended, until, at length,
they became so contracted, as scarcely to be capable of admitting a man
of more than ordinary size, and who, if he did succeed in reaching the
copper ladder which leads immediately into the ball, must have then
disencumbered himself of his dress, to have made good his entry into that
place.

On arriving within the ball, we found it capacious enough to contain
several persons, and were told that no less than from sixteen to twenty
had been within it at the same time; but they must have been of the same
quality with Pharaoh’s lean kine; or, as I have heard Scotchmen express
it, “a heap of fellows.”

During my stay in Rome, I frequently repeated my visits to its more
interesting points, as the Capitol, St. Peter’s, and the Pantheon, and
traversed the city and its neighbourhood; by which repetitions I imagine
that I gained almost as correct ideas, as if I had actually seen these
objects.

That beautiful and venerable building, the Pantheon, must not be passed
over without a more particular notice.

    “Mark, how the dread Pantheon stands,
    Amid the domes of modern hands,
    Amid the toys of idle state,
    How simply—how severely great.”

This temple, which from its round form, has obtained the name of the
Rotunda, is a hundred and fifty feet in height, and about the same
in diameter; it is divided into eight parts, one of which forms the
entrance gate: each of the other seven compartments, consists of two
fluted Corinthian pillars, and as many pilasters of _Giallo Antico_.
The capitals and bases are of white marble, and support a circular
entablature. The wall is perpendicular for half the height of the temple,
and then gradually slopes off as it ascends, forming a dome, the centre
of which consists of an aperture twenty-five feet in diameter.

There are no windows, the above opening at the top, admitting a
sufficiency of light, and producing a finer effect than windows could
have done. No great inconvenience can result from this opening; the
conical form of the temple prevents the rain from falling near the
walls where the altars now are, and where the statues of the gods were
formerly placed. The rain which falls in the middle, immediately passes
through holes which perforate a large piece of porphyry, that forms the
centre of the pavement; the whole of which consists of various pieces of
marble, agate, and other materials, which have been picked up from the
ruins, and now compose a singular kind of Mosaic work.

The portico was added by Agrippa, the son-in-law of Augustus; it is
supported by sixteen pieces of granite, five feet in diameter, and
each consisting of single pieces. Upon the frieze in the front, is an
inscription relative to its founder.

Some are of opinion that the Pantheon is much more ancient than the
Augustan age, and that the portico, which is the only part they admit to
be the work of Agrippa, though beautiful in itself, does not correspond
with the simplicity of the body of the temple.

But as it is not possible that I can convey any thing like a correct
idea of its beauties and magnificence, I shall venture to transcribe the
following account of this celebrated structure.

“Of the surviving edifices at Rome, the principal is the Pantheon itself.
It still retains its majestic portico, and presents its graceful dome
uninjured; the pavement laid by Agrippa and trodden by Augustus, still
forms its floor; the compartments, and fluted pillars of rich marble,
that originally lined its walls, still adorn its inward circumference;
the deep tints that age has thrown over it, only contribute to raise our
dignity and augment our veneration; and the traveller enters its portal,
through which thrice twenty generations have flowed in succession, with
a mixture of awe and religious veneration. Yet the Pantheon has suffered
greatly during the last eighteen centuries. The flight of steps that
conducted to its threshold, the marbles that clothed it, the statues that
graced its cornice, the bronze that blazed on its dome, that vaulted
its portico, and formed its sculptured doors, and the silver that lined
the compartments of its roof within, and dazzled the spectator with its
brightness, all have disappeared.”

My observations on this interesting city having extended themselves
beyond my expectation, I shall decline entering into any description
of the society and manners of its inhabitants, as also of the state of
the arts and science of modern Rome, since these points have been so
frequently and ably treated of by other authors.

Having now partaken freely of the rich intellectual feast, which this
venerable city affords, I prepared, in the first instance, to return to
Florence, getting my passport signed for that purpose, and arranging
with an intelligent friend, the Reverend ⸺ C⸺, to have the pleasure of
accompanying him to that city; but the nearer the moment of our proposed
departure approached, the more intense did I find an inclination to visit
Naples. This disposition was confirmed by the opinion of Dr. Clarke, that
the sulphurous vapour-baths of that place would be serviceable to my
health, although he strictly urged me not to continue there longer than
a month, in order to escape the injurious effects of the malaria arising
from the Pontine marshes, which would after that time become aggravated
by the heats of summer, and to which I must have been exposed on my
return, in case I should take the land route through Rome; it is true
they might have been avoided, by making a sea voyage to Leghorn, as I in
some measure contemplated.

Having thus been induced to alter my arrangements, I had my passports
made out accordingly, and secured my place in a cabriolet, which was to
set out on the following morning.

I was provided with some letters of introduction, and amongst the rest,
one to Mr. C⸺, a gentleman whom I afterwards felt assured, as it proved,
had been a most intimate friend of my own some years before, at which
time we crossed the Atlantic together from North America to England. I
was delighted with the supposed recognition, and in the sequel it will
be seen, that the renewal of our friendship proved most gratifying, and
advantageous to me.




CHAP. XVII.

JOURNEY TO NAPLES.


Taking our leave of Rome early on the morning of the first of May, we
reached Albano for breakfast, distant sixteen miles. Our party from
Rome, besides myself, consisted of an Italian gentleman, a German, and a
Frenchman; we were also accompanied by a lady, said to be a princess, and
attended by a handsome man-servant; after breakfast we received another
and our last passenger, who was a Roman officer. My companion in the
cabriolet was the German, whom I took to be an artist, but who was by no
means communicative, although he had some knowledge of the French, and a
perfect one of the Italian language.

At four o’clock we reached Veletri, where it was intended we should rest
for the night; but, notwithstanding this early hour, we were not indulged
with supper until eight o’clock, and then it was too scanty to satisfy
our hunger, I believe in consequence of the arrival of two English
ladies, shortly before it was served up for us. In the interim, we amused
ourselves with exploring the city, which my companions reported to be
a fine old town, but neglected, and thinly inhabited. After supper,
I retired to the hardest bed which I have met with on my tour; but
passengers in voitures are not to consider themselves entitled to the
best apartments; the Roman officer, Frenchman and myself, slept in one
room; the princess and her servant, I was informed, occupied another;
while the German was probably quartered with the vittureno.

In the morning at five o’clock, we left Veletri; and, as it was fine, I
walked some distance in company with the German. We had now to travel
along the famous Via Appia, originally a paved causeway extending from
Rome to Capua, and constructed by Appius Claudius the censor, in the year
of Rome, 441; the original bed still remains perfect in various places.
We soon, at the village of Cisterna, entered upon the Pontine marshes,
formed by an accumulation of the waters from various streams arising on
the neighbouring mountains, and prevented from running off, by a want
of declivity in the ground, so as to constitute a swampy fen, formerly
thirty miles in length and eight broad, and which is still in some
degree, a fertile source of infectious miasma, which not unfrequently
spreads disease and destruction into the very heart of the capital
itself. Through many centuries, the whole energies of the Roman people,
under their various consuls, emperors, and pontiffs, were in vain called
into action to drain them; the glory of success was reserved for the late
Pope Pius VI. who, in the year 1788, effectually removed this scourge of
Rome. The Appian road runs through the middle of these marshes, bounded
on the sides by canals, and shaded by double rows of elms and poplars. In
the middle of the marshes we stopped to breakfast about eleven o’clock,
at a very poor inn. Soon after which a carriage arrived containing the
two English ladies who had slept at Veletri at the same inn where we did;
but as they had taken breakfast previous to their departure, they were
not induced to leave their carriage.

About two or three miles before arriving at Terracina, we passed the
celebrated fountain of Feronia, situated within a few paces of the road,
and where the goddess of that name, formerly had a temple dedicated to
her, but which has now disappeared,—not a vestige,—not even a stone
remaining; while the once sacred grove by which it was surrounded,
has dwindled away; one single tree hanging a solitary mourner over
the violated fountain. It was here, that this goddess of liberty, and
_donatrix_ of personal freedom, bestowed the boon of emancipation
upon the slaves of ancient Rome, and which was confirmed by peculiar
ceremonies performed at her altar. The divinity of the place—unlike its
temple—imperishable and immortal—has taken flight to a more genial soil,
from whence it is diffusing blessings over the greater portion of a once
suffering world. Yes! Spirit of Liberty!

    “⸺the Britannia’s isles adores.”
                         ⸺
    “Oh! could I worship ought beneath the skies,
    That Earth has seen, or Fancy could devise,
    Thine altar, sacred Liberty! should stand,
    Built by no mercenary, vulgar hand,
    With fragrant turf, and flow’rs as wild and fair
    As ever dress’d a bank, or scented summer air.”—COWPER.

We arrived at Terracina at eight o’clock, and at five in the morning
recommenced our journey. After travelling five or six miles, we crossed
the barriers between the Roman and Neapolitan states, where our passports
were examined by the commandant of a small fort placed there. After
this, the country expands itself into the vale of Fondi, the mountains
retiring in such way, as to form a beautiful amphitheatre, richly clothed
with luxuriant and diversified woods. Our road passed through the middle
of this vale; a fine lake formed by the waters of innumerable mountain
streams, which run through the plain, bounding it on the right,—beyond
which lay the sea.

At Fondi, a small town situated in the above vale, the Appian road exists
in its original state, composed of broad rough flag stones closely laid
together, but without any cement interposed between them. The town of
Fondi, like most southern towns, has a gloomy appearance, in consequence
of the narrowness of the streets, and unglazed state of the windows. We
now passed through Castelone, and after descending a steep hill, reached
Mola de Gaieta, where we breakfasted at an excellent inn, delightfully
situated, and commanding a fine view of the sea. Near this place, on the
right of the road, we passed an ancient tower, said to be the tomb of
Cicero, erected on the spot where he was murdered.

“Mola is in itself an insignificant place, but it derives interest,
if not grandeur from its beautiful site; it consists of one street,
formed by the Via Appia on the side, at the foot of a range of broken
picturesque hills and mountains, covered with corn, vines, and
olive-trees, and topped with rocks, churches, and towers. The waters that
stream from these hills, unite and gush forth in a fountain close to the
town. The most conspicuous and striking object from the town of Mola, is
the fortress of Gaieta, crowning the rocky promontory of the same name,
with its white ramparts and batteries.”

On leaving Gaieta, we passed over the river Garigliano by means of a
wooden bridge. Our road after this, lay through the defiles of Mount
Massicus, which communicates with those of Callicula, a mountain covered
with forests, and we reached St. Agado about seven in the evening, when
we took up our quarters for the night; here I was compelled to sleep
in the same room with a man whom we had accidentally taken up on the
road, and to which, being satisfied he was an indifferent, character,
I at first strenuously objected, but finding I could get no other
accommodation, I at length acceded, on condition that a third bed in the
room should be also occupied; which was then filled by the servant of the
Italian lady.

We set out from St. Agado at four o’clock in the morning, and at ten
reached Capua for breakfast; here our vittureno drove us into the
stable-yard, and left us to get our breakfast where we could, for the
inn was fully occupied by Austrian officers, who were quartered at this
place: there was no resource, but to put up with a bad breakfast at a
miserable coffee-house.

We were informed, that an English carriage had been stopped by banditti
the preceding evening, about a post on the other side of St. Agado, one
of the horses shot dead, and their courier wounded; but the robbers
becoming alarmed, took to flight before they had secured their booty.
We congratulated ourselves upon an escape, having passed over the same
ground only two hours before this actually occurred.

Capua is a small unimportant town, distinct from the ancient city of
that name, which was situated at some distance, where remains of an
amphitheatre are still visible, and which before the building of that
of Vespasian, was considered superior to any in Rome itself; indeed
old Capua is said, at one time, to have vied with Rome and Carthage
themselves, in size and magnificence. It was here that the victorious
army of Hannibal, is said to have been enervated by the luxuries of
Italy. The alliance which this fated city formed with the Carthaginians,
in opposition to its former mistress, proved its ruin; in the spirit of
insulted majesty and retributive justice, it was besieged by the Consular
armies. In vain did Hannibal exert his high military talents for the
relief of his new friends; he could not force the Romans to abandon the
siege, and at length the unfortunate Capuans were compelled to bow under
the yoke of their conquerors.

Capua is distant sixteen miles from Naples, the intermediate country
comprising one of the most fertile tracts of Italy, upon which nature has
abundantly lavished her beauties and advantages.

About half way to Naples, we passed through the neat and modern town
of Averso, remarkable for having one of the best regulated and most
interesting lunatic asylums in the world, the results of which, as
tending to the restoration of the patients, have been most felicitous.
The system of treatment embraces an extended plan of amusement, of which
the charms of _music_ form an important feature.

    “There is a charm, a pow’r that sways the breast,
    Bids every passion revel and be still;
    Inspires with rage, or all your cares dissolves;
    Can soothe distraction, and almost despair;
    That pow’r is music.”—ARMSTRONG.

We reached Naples about four o’clock in the afternoon, and after the
customary formalities of examining the baggage and passports, the former
of which was much facilitated by some trifling pecuniary arguments, we
were allowed to proceed to our respective quarters.




CHAP. XVIII.

NAPLES.


“Vedi Napoli e po mori,[1]” says a patriotic proverb of the country, in
which I was now residing; for the good people flatter themselves there is
nothing in the world worth seeing afterward: a farther instance of their
national partiality is contained in another adage, expressive of the
following sentiment: “When a Neapolitan is out of humour, he has only to
open his window and look at his country, to restore his complacency.” And
yet, alas! how wretchedly have these people defended that country!

    [1] “See Naples and then die.”

Whatever might be the sensations with which I was affected on entering
this city, produced by my conceptions of its beauty and magnificence, I
could not avoid feeling rejoiced, at the circumstance of having reached
in safety, this boundary of my proposed pilgrimage, and the _ne plus
ultra_ of the generality of European travellers. But it was some time
before I could get comfortable accommodations. Our driver probably
imagining I should not be able to _see_ into his stratagem, took every
other passenger to his destined point, before he would attend to myself,
because the Largo Castello, to which I had directed him, happened to
be near his own quarters; consequently, it was six o’clock before I
arrived, and then I had the mortification to find the house too full to
receive me. I was compelled to search for apartments elsewhere, and only
with great difficulty at length succeeded, and was happy, after taking
refreshment, to get into a more comfortable bed than I had met with since
I left Rome.

Naples, or Napoli, was originally called Parthenope, a name said to have
been given by the Phœnicians, in consequence of its delightful situation.
This city is so ancient, that its original foundation is involved in the
obscurity of the earliest periods. It is reported to have been founded
by the Argonauts, thirteen centuries before the Christian era, and
afterwards strengthened and enriched, by colonies from Rhodes, Athens,
and Chalcis.

The impression I received on entering this city, was that of commercial
importance, from the bustle and confusion which I heard in some of the
streets through which we passed: but as all strangers are, in the first
instance, forcibly struck by the beauty of its situation, and magnificent
appearance, I cannot do better than quote the description given of it by
a favourite author, Dr. Moore.

“Naples is supposed to be founded by the Greeks. The charming situation
they have chosen, is one proof among thousands of the fine taste of that
ingenious people.

“The bay is about thirty miles in circumference, and twelve in diameter;
it has been named Crater, from its supposed resemblance to a bowl. This
bowl is ornamented with the most beautiful foliage, with vines, with
olives, mulberry and orange-trees, with hills, dales, towns, villas, and
villages.

“At the bottom of the bay of Naples, the town is built in the form of an
amphitheatre, sloping from the hills towards the sea.

“If, from the town, you turn your eyes to the east, you see the rich
plains leading to Mount Vesuvius and Portici. If you look to the west,
you have the grotto of Pausilippo, the mountain on which Virgil’s
tomb is placed, the fields leading to Puzzoli, and the coast of Baia.
On the north, are the fertile hills, gradually rising from the shore
to the Campagna Felice. On the south is the bay, confined by the two
promontaries of Misenum and Minerva; the view being terminated by the
island of Procida, Ischia, and Caprea; and as you ascend to the castle of
St. Elmo, which is situated on a mountain of the same name, you have all
these objects under your eye at once, with the addition of a great part
of the Campagna.

“Independent of its happy situation, Naples is a very beautiful city. The
style of architecture it may be confessed, is superior to what prevails
at Rome; but though Naples cannot vie with that city, in the number of
palaces, or in the grandeur or magnificence of the churches, the private
houses, in general, are better built, and more uniformly convenient;
the streets are broader, and better paved. No street in Rome equals in
beauty the Strada di Toledo at Naples; and still less can any of them
be compared with those beautiful streets which open to the bay. This is
the native country of the Zephyrs; here the excessive heat of the sun is
often tempered with sea breezes, and with gales, wafting the perfumes of
the Campagna Felice.

“The houses in general are five or six stories high, and flat at the top;
on which are placed numbers of flower vases, or fruit-trees, in boxes of
earth, producing a very gay and agreeable effect.

“The garrison stationed at the fortress of St. Elmo have the entire
command of the town, and could lay it in ashes at pleasure, being built
on the mountain of the same name. A little lower on the same mountain
is a convent of Carthusians. The situation of this convent is as
advantageous and beautiful as can be imagined; and much expense has been
lavished to render the building, the apartments, and the gardens, equal
to the situation.”

On the morning which succeeded my arrival, (Saturday, March 5th),
after engaging a _servitore de piazza_, and delivering some letters of
introduction, I had the good fortune to arrange with one gentleman,
Dr. K⸺, whom I called upon with the latter view, to be accommodated
with apartments in his house; and farther, we agreed to mess together,
whenever it suited our convenience to dine at home; under which
arrangement, we continued to live in all possible harmony, during the
remainder of my stay in Naples.

As the doctor dined out on the following day, I preferred taking my
repast at a trattoria’s, called the Villa de Paregi, and had the
unexpected pleasure of being placed between two gentlemen, brothers,
whom I had known at Nice. Unfortunately, they were quitting Naples that
evening: I spent, however, a couple of hours very agreeably with them, at
their lodgings.

In the course of my walk on the following day, I met my friend Lady
C⸺ with Miss L⸺, and afterwards dined with Dr. K⸺ at the Villa di
Roma, where I had the gratification of finding Count K⸺ whom I have
before mentioned, as well as two or three other acquaintances. I was
much pleased with the situation of this trattoria’s house. It stands
by the sea-side, in that part of Naples termed Santa Lucia; there is
a room built directly over the sea, where one not only enjoys the
refreshing breeze, but also the additional cooling sensation of the waves
under-foot. The entertainment of the house is excellently good, and after
taking refreshment, it is delightful to walk by the sea-side, or a boat
may be had to sail upon the bay if it is preferred.

On the next day, Mr. C⸺, the gentleman whom I have mentioned as being
acquainted with formerly in America, called upon me. I had been at
his house, but did not find him at home; I left however, my letter of
introduction. This reminds me of some lines of one of the most pleasing
poets of our day, whose society I have had the pleasure of enjoying,
written under somewhat similar circumstances.

    “Tho’ late the word of friendship came,
      Thanks be to him who said it;
    Impatient of the tardy claim,
      Your friend was mine—before he read it.”

We walked together to the Grotto del Piede, and I had the pleasure, and I
may say advantage, of finding him, in addition to his original stock of
general information, become a most intelligent and agreeable Ciceroni. We
measured the entrance of the grotto, and found it seven good paces; it
extends in length, nearly a mile through the mountain, to its termination
on the other side. At certain points in the tunnel are apertures, which
admit an imperfect light from above; the deficiency is supplied by tapers
placed near the centre, which at the same time serve to illuminate a
figure of the Virgin Mary.

After my walk I took an artificial sulphur bath, and in the evening
drank from the spring at St. Lucia, which is impregnated with
sulphuretted hydrogen; I proposed continuing this plan occasionally
during my residence here. After this, I dined with Lady C⸺, and in the
evening took a drive with the family on the Strada Nuova.

I had arranged with Mr. C⸺ to accompany him, and two Neapolitan
gentlemen, to the royal palace at Caserta, which we had the prospect of
seeing to advantage, as the king was yet at Rome, and his chief agent
at that place, brother to one of our companions. We fixed on Saturday
the 12th for our excursion. We left Naples between four and five in the
morning, and arrived at Caserta about eight o’clock, being distance of
fifteen miles. In the first place, we inspected a smaller palace at
St. Lucia, about a mile distant from the large one, where his Majesty
generally resides in perfect retirement. The house is small, and by no
means well furnished; but in one room we noticed one of the greatest
luxuries of a hot climate, a marble bath, twelve or fourteen feet
square, and railed round, with little gates leading to the steps by
which you descend into it. We did not prolong our stay at this palace,
which contains little worth seeing, but retiring to the house of our
companion’s brother, were regaled with an excellent breakfast, but rather
a peculiar one; the first part consisted of eggs, cream and other
cheeses, with radishes, rolls and butter, and excellent wines; after
which, coffee was introduced, and then a variety of fresh and preserved
fruits, with two kinds of the finest _liqueurs_, one of which was said
to be only made at the convent of St. Rosa, probably by the hands of
fair nuns, at least, whether this was the case or not, the idea gave
an additional zest to the _gout_. It may seem inconsistent, that nuns
and monks should employ themselves in the composition of any thing to
intoxicate the brain, and contribute to gross and worldly enjoyments;
but, I believe, it is almost to them exclusively, that we are indebted
for the introduction of aqua vita, and other strong liquors, one of the
earliest receipts for making which will be found in the Rosa Anglica
of John of Gaddesden, a celebrated medical monk, and the first court
physician appointed in England, at the time of Edward the Second; John
is, however, so cautious respecting it, that he begs the secret may
neither be divulged to women or laymen, or the delicious compound tasted
by them, unless a handsome fee has been first paid for the gratification.

After breakfast we visited the king’s manufactory of silks and velvets,
in which eight hundred persons are employed; the works and spinning
machines are conducted upon similar principles with those of Lyons and
Spitalfields; in short, the director has passed some years at both these
places, in order to attain a thorough acquaintance with the various
processes. As far as I could judge, the quality and texture of the
articles manufactured here, were equal to any I had examined in England
or France. The larger wheels are, however, not put into motion by the
action of steam or water, but by two women walking within them. The
manufacturers reside in the adjoining village of Santa Lucia, and are
regulated by particular laws, and have privileges different from what are
possessed in any other parts of the kingdom, and which were given them by
the present king in his own hand-writing.

We now proceeded through the royal grounds, which are abundantly stocked
with game of every kind, to San Sylvestre, where is the king’s dairy,
and a small house, called his hunting box, situated in the middle of a
beautiful park well planted with the chesnut, and fine young oaks. After
this we visited the gardens, stored with the choicest fruit-trees, and
ornamented with flowers of every description. We here found, as guards,
two beautiful mastiffs, who were said to be in royal pay, each receiving
six ducats per month, which is wholly expended in provisions for them, as
they happen to require no other clothing than what nature has liberally
provided.

After this we passed through a woody walk to the cascade, formed by
the waters from the Ponte Madeloni, six miles distant, which I shall
hereafter describe. This cascade issuing from a reservoir situated on an
eminence termed Gazzano, is precipitated into a plain, where, formed into
a long straight canal well stocked with mullet, and losing its rapidity,
it is conducted by a succession of artificial falls to the palace; from
whence it is conveyed by pipes under-ground to Naples, affording a supply
of the best water which that city possesses.

After a most delightful walk, enhanced by the fineness of the day, we
reached the palace of Caserta, said to be the largest royal residence in
Europe, and which we found a truly noble and magnificent structure. The
building comprises nearly a square, and as the kitchens and offices are
under-ground, there is as much contained beneath, as above the surface.
After passing through a magnificent hall, we ascended a marble staircase,
fine without a parallel, the massy balustrade composed of the richest
workmanship, and of the whitest marble, said to be taken from an ancient
temple near Naples. The entrance upon the staircase on each side is
guarded by a lion of the same description of marble.

At the head of the first flight of stairs, apartments branch off in
different directions, which, however, were only slightly furnished.
The first room we entered was a chapel, most elegantly although only
partially fitted up. After this we were ushered into a suit of spacious
saloons and bed-chambers, with baths, &c.

The ground-floor contains a beautiful theatre, on the model of the
present one of St. Carlos, and so contrived as to admit of a side being
thrown open, to exhibit the natural scenery of the country around. This
palace also has a circular road from the bottom to the top, to allow the
king to ride up or down at pleasure.

Our time was too short, to enable us to take more than a cursory view of
this immense pile of building, as we had determined to visit the aqueduct
of Madeloni, before our return to Naples, and which was some miles out of
the direct road.

The palace of Caserta was commenced by Charles III. of Spain, in the year
1757, under the celebrated architect Vanvitelli, and is not complete
at the present day. I shall finish my account of it with the following
description from Dr. Moore.

“This palace is built on a plain where ancient Capua stood. It was
thought prudent to found a building, on which such sums of money were to
be lavished, at a considerable distance from Mount Vesuvius. It were to
be wished, that the contents of the cabinet of Portici were removed from
the same dangerous neighbourhood. That he might not be limited in ground
for the gardens, may have been his Spanish majesty’s motive for choosing
that his palace should be at a distance from Naples; and that it might
not be exposed to insult from an enemy’s fleet, was probably the reason
that determined him to place it at a distance from the sea.

“This immense building is of a rectangular form, seven hundred and fifty
English feet, by five hundred and eighty; about one hundred and twelve
feet high, comprehending five habitable stories, which contain such a
number of apartments as will accommodate the most numerous court without
any accessary buildings.

“The rectangle is divided into four courts, each of about two hundred
and fifty-two feet, by one hundred and seventy. In each of the two
principal fronts, are three corresponding gates, forming three openings,
which pierce the whole building. The middle gate forms the entry to a
magnificent portico, through which the coaches drive. In the middle of
that, and in the centre of the edifice, there is a vestibule, of an
octagonal form, which opens into the four grand courts at four sides of
the octagon; two other sides open into the portico, one to the staircase;
and at the eighth side there is a statue of Hercules crowned by victory
with this inscription;

                    VIRTUS POST FORTIA FACTA CORONAT.

The grand staircase is adorned with the richest marble; the upper
vestibule to which you ascend by the grand staircase, is an octagon
also, and surrounded by twenty-four pillars of yellow marble, each of
which is one piece of eighteen feet high, without including the pedestals
or capital.”

After quitting the palace, we were detained some time by dinner at the
village of Caserta, and which our exertions had made indispensable; after
this we visited the governor, a friend of one of our companions, who
received us with politeness, and paid a high compliment to the discipline
and bravery of the British army, which he had witnessed in Calabria and
Sicily.

We did not arrive at the Aqueduct before the evening began to close
in, and our driver, in consequence of the risk of banditti, became
solicitous for our returning to Naples, now seventeen miles distant. We
descended however from our carriage, and walked under one of the arches,
followed by a number of beggars and Ciceroni. This wonderful structure
consists of three rows of arches, elevated over each other, and filling
up an extensive chasm between two approximating mountains, over which
it conveys a whole river of the purest water, the channel for which is
about four feet wide, and covered over by an excellent road of sufficient
breadth to allow carriages of every description to pass.

The lower tier consists of nineteen, the second of twenty-seven, and the
upper one of forty-three arches, and the whole built of brick from the
designs of Vanvitelli, in magnitude and effect surpassing all similar
works of ancient or modern construction. Of the former we may in some
measure gain an estimate by drawing a comparison between the present and
the famous Roman aqueduct, the Pont de Guard near Nismes, of which I may
give the following description.

“It was raised in the Augustan age, by the Roman colony, at Nismes, to
convey a stream of water between two mountains, for the use of that city.
It stands over the river Gardon, which is a beautiful pastoral stream,
roaring among rocks, which form a number of pretty natural cascades, and
over-shadowed on each side with trees and shrubs, which greatly add to
the rural beauties of the scene. This work consists of three bridges, or
tier of arches, one over another; the first of six, the second of eleven,
and the third of thirty-six. The height, comprehending the aqueduct at
the top, amounts to one hundred and forty-seven feet three inches; and
the length between the two mountains which it unites, extends to 723
feet. The order of the architecture is the Tuscan, but the symmetry of it
is inconceivable.”

Thus it will be seen that the Ponte di Madeloni loses nothing in
comparison, as respects its height, and length, and number of arches, in
all of which points it exceeds the Pont de Guard; as to architectural
qualities, I must leave it to better judges to determine, which of the
two has the advantage.

My friend C⸺ was so delighted with the beauty and magnificence of this
aqueduct, that we could not induce him to leave it, until the obscurity
of evening made a longer stay unavailing; when we commenced our return
to Naples. On our way we had some reason to think the driver’s fears not
altogether groundless, as when within four miles of the city, we were
surprised by three fellows making their appearance upon a heath, who
followed the carriage for some distance, and kept looking at us as if to
reconnoitre our force. One of them even attempted to spring up behind the
carriage, but my friend C⸺ calling out loudly in the Italian language,
he desisted, and with his companions made off immediately. We certainly
acted imprudently in travelling near Naples at so late an hour, for
although the city was kept quiet by Austrian troops, it was well known,
that numbers of disbanded soldiers, and discontented peasantry, were
spread all over the country. We did not arrive at Naples until half after
ten o’clock, when I went immediately to my lodgings, leaving my companion
to settle the customary dispute of fare with the coachman; and which I
understood was not concluded until midnight, and then terminated in our
paying a dollar more than had been stipulated for.




CHAP. XIX.

NAPLES.


During my residence in this city I frequently walked on the delightful
promenade of the Villa Reale, which happened to be near my lodgings in
the Strada Bassiniana, and in the vicinity of Santa Lucia and the Caio,
two places, which for strangers, are preferable to any other part of
Naples.

In this garden is a bust of Tasso, the features of which the sentinel one
day permitted me to examine, when I was much struck with the contour.
The traveller will also see here the celebrated group, called Il Toro
Farnese, originally brought to Rome from Rhodes, and found in Caracallas
baths, from whence it was removed to the Farnese palace. It was supposed
to represent Amphion and Zetus, who, by order of their mother Antiope,
are binding Dirce to the horns of a wild bull. Apollonius is said to have
executed much of this group, which has however been restored in so many
parts, that little of the antique work remains, the bull excepted.

On the 15th, the king of Naples, about three o’clock in the afternoon,
made his public entry into his capital, after regaining possession of his
dominions, under two triumphal arches erected for the purpose, one at the
Botanic Garden, a short distance from the city, the other in the middle
of the Toledo. The whole way to the palace was lined with Austrian and
Neapolitan soldiers, who were ordered to prevent cheering, and it was
even said that some lazaroni, who attempted it, were placed in custody.

In the evening the city was illuminated, although this was partially
done, and chiefly confined to the public offices, and residences of such
individuals as were more particularly anxious to manifest their loyalty.
This was repeated on the two succeeding nights.

The entrance of the king, appeared to be the signal for the removal of
such persons as were supposed inimical to his government; many were
simply ejected from their situations, while others were imprisoned, or
had passports sent to them, with notice to quit the kingdom before a
certain day; I am not aware that the punishment of death was inflicted on
any.

On the 18th we experienced a very hot day; after breakfast, my friend
C⸺, Dr. R⸺, and myself, set out to visit Virgil’s tomb; which,
notwithstanding they had been there before, we contrived to pass beyond;
returning back we discovered it, and having entered a door which led
through a small vineyard, began to descend a number of steps, which
terminated near the entrance of a stone vault, in which were a number of
recesses for the reception of sepulchral urns, each about two feet high
and eighteen inches broad; these were formed on a level with the floor,
one on either side of the entrance, three in each lateral wall, and two
in front, being ten in all.

Some antiquarians have disputed, whether the ashes of the great Mantuan
bard ever reposed in this vault; this philosophically and abstractedly
taken, perhaps, is a matter of as little consequence to posterity, as to
Virgil himself; but in a sentimental point of view, unless they can point
out indisputably, the spot where the precious exuviæ of this immortal
spirit were actually deposited, it is but a cruel martyrdom of feeling,
to attempt to deprive us, the hapless Ciceroni of the day, of the
exquisite gratification of an imaginary _sepulchretum_.

Shortly after this interesting excursion, we determined to cross the
bay of Naples to Sorento, the birth-place of Tasso, at the distance of
about eighteen miles. Our party consisted of Lieut. B⸺, Mr. D⸺, and
myself; we had a short and pleasant passage, and just before the sails
were taken in, the crew sung a hymn to the Virgin Mary, to thank her for
their safe arrival, and then brought round a box for our contributions
to a libation in honour of her. We now found that the town was two miles
farther on, and the master prepared a small boat, with part of his crew,
to take us there, for which he gave us to understand, we were to pay as
much as for the voyage across the bay; notwithstanding he had informed
us that his was a Sorento boat, and we had engaged to be taken there. My
friends were unwilling to dispute the point; whereas, had it been left
to myself, he should not have received a _grain_ beyond his contract,
or even that, until he had landed us at the point stipulated for. The
impositions to which strangers are subjected in this country, are
unbounded, and it requires much art and manœuvring to defend oneself; not
that this is particular to Italy, for we have only to look at home, where
we find our hackney-coachmen and watermen, ready to avail themselves
of a similar licence. My plan is, in the first instance, to gain all
possible information as to the proper distances and charges; and then,
throwing myself accidentally, as it were, in the way of those persons I
wish to engage, to allow them to make the first attack, which they will
be sure to do, and which I receive with an indifferent air, laughing at
their price, which I know, and declare to be unreasonable, and offering
them a very low one;—if it is not accepted, I then walk away, for it is
endless staying to argue with them; they will be sure to follow and learn
my address, and make more reasonable proposals; in which case, with an
appearance of liberality, it is easy to say, that as I am pleased with
their civil manners, it induces me to give something more than the
regular fare, when the bargain is readily concluded.

On landing, our first object was to make out a comfortable inn for
dinner, but we were grievously disappointed. The best one was full and
unable to receive us; the second contained nothing to eat; and in the
third we found a dirty old man, getting out of one of the six beds, which
the room we were to have dined in contained, and from which issued so
disgusting a smell, that notwithstanding the keenness of our appetites,
we could not reconcile ourselves to continue there. We had recourse to
our only alternative, which was to proceed to the house of a gentleman,
Captain S⸺, at the distance of two miles, with whom Lieut. B⸺ wished to
treat, for summer apartments for his family, thinking we might elicit
information as to where a dinner could be procured. Captain S⸺ was dining
from home, but we had the pleasure of seeing his lady, whose account of
the accommodations of the neighbourhood put us quite in despair. She
insisted, however, upon sending for her husband, and had the kindness
to give us a refreshment of bread, wine, and oranges, which was truly
acceptable. Captain S⸺, on his arrival, with the greatest kindness,
offered us not only a dinner, but beds, which, although with reluctance,
we felt compelled to accept of.

In the interim, while dinner was in preparation, we walked out to call
on an English friend of Mr. B⸺’s, who resided two miles farther off;
he was, however, from home; but the attempt to see him, gave us an
opportunity of exploring the country; which my friends described as very
beautiful, although only visible through occasional interruptions to high
stone walls on either side, and which universally bound the roads in this
part of the country; and which are so narrow, that it must be impossible
for a common-sized waggon to pass along them; they serve, however, at
least one good purpose, that of affording shelter from the scorching rays
of the sun.

Soon after eight o’clock our dinner was announced, and an excellent one
it proved; although, I believe, we should all, under our feelings of
hunger, have given the preference to a few mutton chops hastily provided;
but the order of things must not be deranged; as we proposed to set off
at four in the morning, we were glad to retire to bed immediately after
dinner.

In the morning Captain S⸺ had the kindness to get up to see us off, when
he sent his servant to conduct us to a much nearer point than Sorento,
and which proved to be the individual spot where we had first arrived on
the preceding day. We did not reach Naples until nine o’clock, having
little wind, so that we had to pull a considerable part of the distance.

On the 26th, Lieut. B⸺ and myself, accompanied Count K⸺ on board the
Austrian flagship, lying off this port. This vessel, named the Austria,
was a frigate of forty-four guns, built by the French at Venice, and
afterwards taken possession of by the Austrians. We found an English
sailor on board, who had entered from one of our merchantmen in the
Mediterranean, and who gave us no very favourable account of the naval
tactics of the Austrians. The officers appeared to want that smartness
which we are accustomed to in a British man-of-war; that is, there was
a heavy manner about them. We were treated, however, with civility,
although we did expect more attention, having been introduced as British
naval officers.

On the 29th, one of the two Austrian frigates lying here, with two
Neapolitan frigates, having under convoy about forty smaller vessels,
with eight thousand Austrian troops on board, sailed for Palermo. My
friends were highly delighted with this spectacle.

Having heard much of the island of Ischia, distant twenty-four miles from
Naples, I was induced to cross over to it, in company with Mr. J. O⸺, an
English gentleman, who was purposing to spend some time there, on account
of his health. We had intended setting off some days before, but the
Sirocco wind prevented us, being attended by a heavy swell setting into
the bay, so that no boat would venture out. We left Naples at six o’clock
in the morning of the 30th of May, and after passing by the islands of
Nicida and Prochyta, on the former of which stands the Lazaretto, and on
the latter one of the king’s palaces, we landed about half after eleven,
at the village of Ischia. We were immediately surrounded by a number of
fellows having asses with them, which they, with much insolence, urged us
to hire. Mr. O⸺ took one for his little nephew whom he had brought with
him, and setting him forward, we followed on foot until we arrived at
Sentinella, a distance of three or four miles. We were pursued, however,
for a considerable time by a drove of these donkey men, in expectation
that we might hire their animals; but at length, finding themselves
disappointed, they gradually gave up the point, hooting and holloing
after us as they departed.

On laying my hand on one of these asses, I was astonished at the
silkiness of its skin; but I believe the hair of all animals is
proportionately softer in southern climates, probably in consequence
of the superficial pores being more open. I have heard, and it appears
probable, that the nerves of the cuticle, as of the finger, are more
sensible in warm latitudes; and that this is the reason why the silks,
and other fine works, in such countries, are of more delicate texture,
than what are manufactured elsewhere.

This island, formerly known by the names of Enaria and Pithecusa, is
exceedingly fertile, rich, and populous, the whole of it is conceived to
be of volcanic origin; indeed it was formerly famous for its frequent
eruptions, although they have now entirely ceased. The town of Ischia,
from whence it derives its present name, is situated in a small bay,
which is protected by a castle, built on a rock projecting into the sea,
and separated from the main island by a ridge of sand.

Sentinella is a single house, standing on a rock which overhangs the
sea; it belongs to a public notary, who receives visitors that come to
the island for the benefit of its baths, and who are accommodated with
board and lodging at the rate of a dollar per day; as a situation, it
is far preferable to the adjoining village of Lucio, which is a shabby
place, standing low on the shore, and consequently excessively hot, and
infested by mosquitoes; whereas, at Sentinella, there is a fine sea
breeze by day, and fresh air from the mountains at night. The proprietor
has several daughters, agreeable young women, who study the comforts of
their visitors; he has, besides, a brother, a medical man, residing in
the village. In the evening, the young ladies entertained us with music
and dancing.

The baths are situated at the village. There are two springs, one termed
_Aqua del occhio_, from which the baths are supplied; the other is called
the _Aqua Caponi_; I drank a couple of tumblers full of the latter, the
taste of which reminded me of a weak solution of Cheltenham salts.

After returning from the baths, we rested quietly for the remainder of
the day, amusing ourselves with reading; in the evening, we walked to
a village named Piazza, and on our return, were again entertained with
music and dancing.

On the following morning, I took leave of Sentinella, where I should
have felt happy to have prolonged my stay, in order to have enjoyed more
of the society of Mr. O⸺, whom I left behind me. The pursuits of this
gentleman, were much in unison with my own; that is, he occupied his
time with an alternation of exercise and reading, the one so condusive
to health, the other to happiness; nor were these pursuits directed to
the mere attainment of vacant pleasure, but to the more satisfactory
acquisition of useful information; and Horace says,

    “Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci.”

At ten o’clock I embarked for Naples, which, however, we did not reach
before six in the evening, for we had light or contrary winds throughout
the day, and, notwithstanding the use of our oars, made but slow
progress.

On the following day a fine morning was succeeded, about noon, by a
cloudy atmosphere, and in returning from the custom-house, where I had
accompanied a gentleman, we were overtaken by a dreadful thunderstorm,
attended by torrents of rain. We succeeded, however, in gaining shelter.
On this occasion, I missed my pocket handkerchief, and whether it had
been filched away by the rude wind, or some of the light-fingered gentry,
with whom this city abounds, it is impossible for me to say, although I
am inclined to suspect the latter. It was, however, the only loss of the
kind I sustained during my journey.

Sunday, June 3d, Mr. C⸺ and myself hired a curriculo or gig, and drove to
Capo di Monte, to visit Mr. and Mrs. M⸺. This is a most delightful summer
residence, standing on very elevated ground, although only two miles
distant from the city. The king has a palace here, as he has in almost
every fine situation; in short, the royal residences are so numerous,
that one can scarce wonder at the heavy income-tax of twenty-five per
cent. as well as the immense duties, imposed on his subjects.




CHAP. XX.

NAPLES.—POMPEII.


Monday, June 4th, promising to be favourable for my intention of visiting
the remains of Pompeii, distant about fourteen miles from Naples, my
friend C⸺, and myself, engaged a curriculo to take us over to that spot;
for this conveyance, we paid only twelve carlines, equal to about four
shillings; but when it is recollected, that my driver could support
himself and his horse through the day, for one-eighth part of that sum,
the compensation ceases to be a contemptible one.

We left Naples a little before six, and after resting for breakfast at
Torre del Annunciata, arrived at Pompeii about nine o’clock. Our road
lay through rich vineyards, and over various beds of lava, the remains
of different eruptions from Mount Vesuvius. In 1794, one town through
which we passed, Torre del Greco, was destroyed by one of these awful
visitations, and yet such is the attachment of the infatuated people to
this situation, that a new one has arisen on the self-same spot.

We entered the suburbs of Pompeii, by the villa of the Roman, whose
skeleton was found in the garden, with a purse of gold in his hand, with
which he appears to have been endeavouring to escape, when arrested by
the overwhelming shower of ashes. After passing these suburbs, in which
we noticed a number of monuments, and receptacles for the ashes of the
dead, we entered under an ancient gateway into the city itself. It is not
easy to describe the sensations which rushed upon my soul, on finding
myself within this monumental city, or to give that lucid description
which it requires; I shall therefore not apologize for borrowing an
account, which corresponds with the ideas I was personally led to form of
it. I shall, however, premise, that the order of our exploration, varied
from the one usually adopted by the Cicerones, who take you first to the
amphitheatre; on the contrary, we commenced with those points, which
strangers generally finish with, leaving the theatres and amphitheatre
for the last objects of research, and thus, as it were, proceeding from
small things to great ones.

“The remains of this town afford a truly interesting spectacle. It is
like a resurrection from the dead; the progress of time and decay is
arrested, and you are admitted to the temples, the theatres, and the
domestic privacy of a people, who have ceased to exist for seventeen
centuries. Nothing is wanting but the inhabitants: still, a morning’s
walk through the silent streets of Pompeii, will give you a livelier idea
of their modes of life, than all the books in the world. They seem like
the French of the present day, to have existed only in public. Their
temples, theatres, basilicas, and forums, are on the most splendid scale,
but in their private dwellings, we discover little, or no attention to
comfort. The houses in general, have a small court, round which the
rooms are built, which are rather cells than rooms; the greater part
are without windows, receiving light only from the door. There are no
chimneys; the smoke of the kitchen, which is usually low and dark, must
have found its way through a hole in the ceiling.

“The doors are so low, that you are obliged to stoop to pass through
them. There are some traces of Mosaic flooring, and the stucco paintings,
with which all the walls are covered, are but little injured; and upon
their being wetted, they appear as fresh as ever. Brown, red, yellow,
and blue, are the prevailing colours. It is a pity that the contents of
the houses could not have been allowed to remain in the state in which
they were found: but this would have been impossible. Travellers are the
greatest thieves in the world. As it is, they will tear down, without
scruple, the whole side of a room, to cut out a favourable specimen of
the stucco painting. If it were not for this pilfering propensity, we
might now see every thing as it really was left at the time of this great
calamity; even to the skeleton which was found with a purse of gold in
its hand. In the stocks of the guard-room, which was used as a military
punishment, the skeletons of four soldiers were found sitting; but these
poor fellows have now been released from their ignominious situation, and
the stocks, with every thing else that was moveable, have been placed
in the museum; the bones being consigned to their parent clay. Pompeii,
therefore, exhibits nothing but bare walls, and the walls are without
roofs; for these have been broken in, by the weight of the shower of
ashes and pumice stones, that caused the destruction of the town.

“The amphitheatre is very perfect, as indeed are the two other theatres,
intended for dramatic representations, though it is evident that they
had sustained some injury from the earthquake, which, as we learn from
Tacitus, had already much damaged this devoted town, before its final
destruction by the eruption of Vesuvius. ‘Et motu terræ celebre Campaniæ
oppidum Pompeii magna ex parte proruit.’—TAC. ANN. 15. c. 22.

“The paintings on the walls of the amphitheatre, represent the combats
of gladiators and wild beasts, the dens of which remain just as
they were seventeen hundred years ago. The two theatres for dramatic
entertainments, are as close together as our own Drury Lane and Covent
Garden. The larger one which might have contained five thousand persons,
like the amphitheatre had no roof, but was open to the day. The stage
is very much circumscribed—there is no depth, and consequently there
are no side scenes; the forms and appearance are like that of our own
theatres, when the drop scene is down, and forms the extent of the
stage. In the back scene of the Roman stage, which instead of canvas, is
composed of unchangeable brick and marble, are three doors; and there
are two others on the sides, answering to our stage-doors. It seems that
it was the theatrical etiquette, that the premiers roles should have
their exits and entrances, through the doors of the back scene, and the
inferior ones through those on the sides.

“The little theatre is covered, and in better preservation than
the other; and it is supposed that this was intended for musical
entertainments. The temple of Isis has suffered little injury; the
statues alone have been taken away. You see the very altar on which the
victims were offered, and you may now ascend without ceremony the private
stairs, which led to the sanctum sanctorum of the goddess; where those
mysterious rites were celebrated, the nature of which may be shrewdly
guessed from the curiosities discovered there, and which are now to be
seen in the Museo Borbonico. In a niche on the outside of the temple, was
the statue of Harpocraes, the God of silence—who was most appropriately
placed here; but

                          ‘Foul deeds will rise
    Though all the earth o’erwhelm them to men’s eyes.’

“The streets are very narrow; the marks of wheels on the pavement shew
that carriages were in use, but there must have been some regulation to
prevent their meeting each other; for one carriage would have occupied
the whole of the street, except the narrow trottoir raised on each side
for foot passengers, for whose accommodation, there are also raised
stepping stones, in order to cross from one side to the other. The
distances between the wheel traces, are four feet three inches.

“There is often an emblem over the door of a house, that determines
the profession of its former owner. The word ‘Salve’ on one, seems to
denote that it was an inn, as we have in our days the sign of ‘The
Salutation.’ In the outer brick-work of another, is carved an emblem,
which shocks the refinement of modern taste; but which has been an object
even of religious adoration in many countries, probably as a symbol
of creative power. The same device is found on the stucco of the inner
court of another house, with this intimation, ‘Hic habitat Felicitas,’ a
sufficient explanation of the character of its inhabitants. Many of the
paintings on the walls are very elegant in the taste and design, and they
often assist us in ascertaining the uses for which the different rooms
were intended. For example, in the baths, we find Tritons, and Naiads; in
the bed-chambers, Morpheus scatters his poppies; and in the eating-room,
a sacrifice to Esculapius teaches us, that we should eat, to live;—and
not live, to eat.

“In one of these rooms, are the remains of a triclinium. A baker’s
shop is as plainly indicated, as if the loaves were now at his window.
There is a mill for grinding the corn, and the oven for baking; and the
surgeon, and the druggist, have also been traced, by the quality of the
articles found in their respective dwellings.

“But the most complete specimen that we have of an ancient residence,
is the villa which has been discovered, at a small distance without the
gate. It is on a more splendid scale, than any of the houses in the town
itself, and it has been preserved with scarcely any injury. Some have
imagined that this was the Pompeianum—the Pompeian villa of Cicero. Be
this as it may, it must have belonged to a man of taste. Situated on a
sloping bank, the front entrance opens, as it were, into the first floor;
below which, on the garden side, into which the house looks—for the door
is the only aperture on the road side—is a ground floor, with spacious
arcades, and open rooms, all facing the garden; and above are the
sleeping-rooms. The walls and ceilings of this villa are ornamented with
paintings of very elegant design, all which have a relation to the uses
of the apartments in which they are placed. In the middle of the garden
there is a reservoir of water, surrounded by columns, and the ancient
well still remains. Though we have many specimens of Roman glass in their
drinking vessels, it has been doubted, whether they were acquainted with
the use of it in the windows. Swinburne, however in describing Pompeii,
says, ‘In the window of a bed-chamber some panes of glass are remaining.
This would seem to decide the question;—but they remain no longer.’

“The host was fond of conviviality, if we may judge from the dimension of
his cellar, which extends under the whole of the house, and the arcades
also, and many of the amphoræ remain, in which the wine was stowed. It
was here that the skeletons of seven-and-twenty poor wretches were
found, who took refuge in this place from the fiery shower that would
have killed them at once, to suffer the lingering torments of being
starved to death. It was in one of the porticos leading to the outward
entrance, that the skeleton, supposed to be that of the master of the
house, was found with a key in one hand, and a purse of gold in the
other. So much for Pompeii.”—MATTHEWS.

                “⸺Thus deep beneath
    Earth’s bosom, and the mansions of the graves
    Of men, are graves of cities. Such of late,
    From its long sleep of darkness disenterr’d,
    Pompeii, with its low and buried roofs,
    Rose dark upon the miner’s progress, like
    A city of the dead! a tomb perchance
    Where living men were buried! Tyrant Death!
    How didst thou triumph then! thou us’d’st to steal
    Behind thy sallow harbinger disease,
    Or take thine open and determinate stand
    In battle’s ranks, with danger at thy side
    Forewarning gallant breasts prepar’d to die;
    But there—thy spect’ral visage darken’d forth,
    Amid the joyous bosom-scenes of life,
    From its invisible ambush! There it found,
    The myriad fantasies of hearts, and brains,
    Young loves, and hopes, and pleasures, all abroad,
    Spreading their painted wings, and wantoning,
    In life’s glad summer-breeze, from flower to flower;
    And, with the fatal spell of one dread glance.
    Blasted them all!—how sunk the tender maid,
    Then silent to the still and stiffening clasp
    Of her dead lover! Echo had not ceas’d
    To catch love’s inarticulate ecstasies,
    Strain’d in a first embrace—for ever, then,
    Fix’d statue-like in Death’s tremendous arms
    A hideous contrast! One fell moment still’d
    Lovers and foes alike; workers of good,
    And guilty wretches:—then the statesman’s brain,
    Stopp’d in its calculation, and the bard
    Sunk by his lyre;—the loud procession
    Before the Temple—all the cares of life,
    With action and contrivance, through the streets
    Thronged multitudinous, in their busy time
    Of bustle and magnificence,—and all
    Life’s thousands were abroad, and the high sounds
    Of civic pomp rose audible from far:—
    But louder rose the terrible voice of ruin
    Over their mirth, ‘BE STILL’D,’ and all was hush’d!
    Save the short shudd’ring cries that rose unheard—
    The up-turn’d glances from a thousand homes,
    Thro’ the red closing surge! awful groan
    Of agitated Nature! while beneath,
    Ten thousand victims turn’d to die:—above
    Bright sunbeams lit the plain—a nameless tomb.”—MATURIN.

Absorbed in feelings of the most melancholy, but tenderest nature, we
commenced our return to Naples, where we arrived about five o’clock in
the evening.

We experienced much thunder and lightning for a day or two, which, on the
7th were succeeded by a clear hot day. In the evening, I took a drive
in a carriage, in company with Dr. K⸺ to the Lake Agnano. On our way,
we passed the Grotto del Cani, or Dog’s Cave, which has the quality of
being fatal to that animal when taken into it, whereas the human subject
can remain within it uninjured. The cause of this phenomenon admits of
easy explanation. A quantity of carbonic acid gas is disengaged from
apertures, or chinks in the sides of the cavern, and from its greater
specific gravity than atmospheric air, falls to the floor which is
somewhat lower than the entrance: it is consequently retained there,
producing its peculiar noxious effects on animals of low stature when
introduced into it,—as a common-sized dog; while others of a superior
height, not having their organs of respiration immersed in the injurious
fluid, remain in the cave with impunity. Thus readily does philosophy, in
this instance, overturn the errors of superstition; for the peculiarities
of this cavern, were formerly attributed to the influence of a vengeful
deity.

I did not enter the grotto, my friend having neglected to inform me of
our approach to it, although the examination of it was a leading object
of my evening’s drive. I should, however, have found no gratification,
could I have witnessed the convulsive agonies of one of the unfortunate
animals, who are kept for the purpose of demonstrating the properties of
the cave, and who, after being immersed until life is nearly extinct,
are then returned into a purer atmosphere, to reserve them for repeated
exhibition. The exhibitors have a peculiar mode of assisting the recovery
in this case; namely, to throw the poor creature into the lake. It is
not easy to conceive, under suspension of vitality from such a source,
how this is to contribute to its restoration. On our return, one of these
dogs, consisting literally of skin and bone, was lying on the ground near
the mouth of the cave. I could not but wish, that the numerous persons
who visit this simple natural phenomenon, would provide themselves with
bread to feed these poor animals, instead of wantonly amusing themselves
with so cruel an experiment of its effects.

On approaching the Lake Agnano, my organ of smell became strongly
affected, by the sulphurous exhalation proceeding from its surface,
and the marshy grounds around it, and which I readily recognised to be
sulphuretted hydrogen. I was astonished by the extraordinary croaking of
the numerous frogs, which inhabit this lake, far exceeding any thing I
had ever heard from the various froggeries of France or Italy. One would
have thought that Aaron’s rod had been extended over it; they appeared
to be all around, so that I fancied every step I had to take, must have
crushed more or less of them to death. There was no habitation near, or
the description of Exodus, chap. VIII. verse 3, must have been realized
with respect to it.




CHAP. XXI.

MOUNT VESUVIUS.


Notwithstanding the representations made to me on all sides of the
difficulties which must attend it, my desire to visit Mount Vesuvius was
of so ardent a nature, that I certainly should have made the attempt
alone, had not a friend, Mr. M., kindly volunteered to accompany me, but
from whom, I have the vanity to say, I rather looked for amusement and
information, than guidance and protection.

My friends endeavoured to dissuade me from this arduous undertaking, and
when, after fully deciding upon the measure, I inquired in what way it
was customary for others to make the ascent, replied, “Oh! they could
_see_ their way up.” “Well, then,” I retorted, “I have little doubt of
being able to _feel_ mine.” I must acknowledge myself annoyed by having
suggestions of difficulties persisted in, which, I feel sensible in my
own bosom, do not insuperably exist; nor can I admit any person, not in
the same situation with myself, capable of estimating the powers, which,
under the curtailment of one sense, another, in consequence, acquires.

We set off from Naples about five o’clock in the afternoon, with a view
of seeing the mountain by moonlight; after passing through Portici, we
reached Resina about seven o’clock, where we left the carriage to await
our return, and reconvey us to Naples. Taking a conductor from the house
of Salvatori, whose family are esteemed the most respectable guides of
the mountain, we immediately commenced our ascent. A number of asses are
constantly in attendance at this point, for the purpose of assisting such
as are incapable of walking, or apprehensive of fatigue, and which are
able to convey their riders two-thirds of the way towards the summit;
but, in order that I might acquire a more correct idea of the nature of
the road, we gave the preference to walking.

We proceeded along a fair road, until we arrived at a house about half
way to the hermitage, where we rested a short time, and refreshed
ourselves with wine and water; after this the road gradually became
worse, and at length so bad that if I had not, on former occasions,
witnessed the astonishing powers of asses and mules, I should have
conceived it impossible for them to have ascended it. We reached the
hermitage about half after eight o’clock, and at the suggestion of our
guide, recruited ourselves with some of the hermit’s bread and wine; and
then began the more arduous part of our journey. The road soon became
very soft, being constituted of the light dust which had been thrown out
from the crater; interspersed, however, with large and sharp stones,
ejected from the same source; some of which were of such immense size,
that did we not bear in mind the astonishing powers of elementary fire,
we could scarcely credit the possibility of such masses being hurled to
this distance, from out of the bowels of the mountain.

One of the greatest inconveniences I found in this ascent, was from
the particles of ashes insinuating themselves within my shoes, and
which annoyed my feet so much, that I was repeatedly compelled to take
them off, in order to get rid of the irritating matter. Hence I would
recommend future travellers to ascend in white leathern boots.

At length we reached the only part of the mountain, which was at this
time in a burning state, and which was throwing out flames and sulphurous
vapour; when the guide taking me by the arm, conducted me over a place
where the fire and smoke issued from apertures between the stones we
walked upon, and which we could hear crackling under our feet every
instant, as if they were going to be separated, and to precipitate us
into the bowels of the mountain. The sublime description of Virgil did
not fail to occur to my recollection.

    “By turns a pitchy cloud she rolls on high,
    By turns hot embers from her entrails fly,
    And flakes of mounting flames lick the sky;
    Oft from her bowels massy rocks are thrown,
    And shiver’d from their force come piecemeal down.
    Oft liquid fires of burning sulphur glow,
    Nurs’d by the fiery spring that burns below.”—DRYDEN.

My imagination, I admit, was actively alive to the possible accidents
which might have occurred; I followed, however, with all the confidence
which my conviction of being under the care of a cautious leader, did not
fail to inspire. My guide appeared highly gratified with the incident,
asserting that it was the first time one deprived of sight had ever
ventured there; and adding, that he was sure it would much surprise the
king, when the circumstance became known to him, in the report which is
daily made of the persons who visit the mountain. The ground was too
hot under our feet, and the sulphurous vapour too strong to allow of
our remaining long in this situation; and when he thought he had given
us a sufficient idea of the nature of this part of the mountain, we
retired to a more solid and a cooler footing; previous to which, however,
he directed my walking-cane towards the flames, which shrivelled the
ferrule, and charred the lower part;—this I still retain as a memorial.

From hence we were conducted to the edge of a small crater, now
extinguished, from whence about two months before, the Frenchman,
rivalling the immortality of Empedocles—

                “Deus immortalis haberi,
    Dum cupit Empedocles ardentem frigidus Ætuam
    Insiluit.—”—HOR.

and desirous of the glory of dying a death worthy of the great nation,
plunged into the fiery abyss. The guide placed my hand on the very spot
where he was stated to have last stood, before he thus rashly entered
upon eternity.

I was anxious to have proceeded up the cone to the border of the superior
and large crater, but our guide objected, indeed refused to conduct us to
it, unless we awaited the dawn of morning; the moon, he said, was fast
descending, so that we should be involved in darkness before we could
attain it; and that consequently it would be attended with risk in the
extreme to make the attempt.

This was a check to the completion of my anxious wishes, but our
arrangements at Naples neither made it convenient to my friend, or
myself, to remain until morning; nor would it have been pleasant to have
spent some hours here without refreshment, more particularly as I had
left my coat behind near the hermitage, and at this elevation we found it
extremely cold.

After spending a short time in examining some of the immense masses of
calcined rock, some of them forming solid cubes of twenty feet diameter,
and which had been at different times thrown out by the volcanic power;
we began to retrace our steps towards the hermitage, distant, as our
guide informed us, four miles, but which must have been an over-rated
estimate. As we approached this latter place, we met a party ascending
the mountain, with an intention of waiting the break of day, so as to
enable them to reach the very summit.

We now partook freely of the good hermit’s provisions, and enjoyed his
Lachrymæ Christi, both white and red; which of course he had no objection
to, as he expected to be well paid for it; he is probably influenced by
motives of this nature in residing here, although he is said to enjoy
a small pension from the king. The present hermit has not been long
resident; the former, a very old man, having retired a few years since
to spend the remnant of his days in the bosom of his family. Of course
the tenant of this seclusion is a monk, but in the present day we have
few instances of voluntary and solitary retirement from the busy haunts
of men, on the mere score of religious feeling, and we can scarcely, in
the present instance, attribute a lonely residence, in the midst of such
dangerous circumstances, to this principle alone.

But the danger of the situation is probably not so great as might be
imagined: to the common eruptions our recluse must be accustomed, and
of course has had experience of their comparative innocence; and with
respect to the more important ones, it is certain, that a variety of
indicating circumstances have generally preceded them, well understood
by those who are exposed to their agency, and which give timely and
sufficient warning; besides, our hermit is not so solitary a being as
many who move on the busy stage of life; for the number of parties that
visit his cell, must afford him considerable intercourse with society,
and was it otherwise, we know how much we are the creatures of habit,
which can even reconcile us to incompatibles. Some think a ship a prison,
nay, Dr. Johnson says, it is “the worst of prisons, for you have no means
of escaping,” and yet there are many, who, from custom, are never more
happy than in one.

The hermit placed his book before us, containing the names of those who
had visited his cell, and we found them accumulated from all nations,
and largely interspersed with observations in verse and prose; but
as for their beauty and point I shall leave this to be determined by
those who may think well to inspect them. My friend was anxious that I
should contribute my mite to this book of scraps, when, as my mind was
not a little elate, with the idea of having so easily surmounted the
difficulties which my friends had urged against my present excursion, I
put down a couplet to the following effect:

    Some, difficulties, meet full many;
    I find them not, nor seek for any.

It was in this book the Frenchman wrote his intention of destroying
himself, and fortunate was it for the guide, that he made it known
in this manner, and exonerated him from the suspicion, which would
otherwise have attached to him, of having been implicated in his death.
I understood that the agitation, into which the poor fellow was thrown
from the circumstance itself, and his apprehensions of the consequences,
threw him into a fever, from which he was not sufficiently recovered to
be able, at this time, to leave his bed. The hermit unfortunately was
unacquainted with the French language, or the dreadful catastrophe might
have been prevented. The book was sent to the police, and the leaf in
question taken out, and retained, and every enquiry made to prove and
account for the circumstance.

Shortly after this period, I met with an English gentleman at Florence,
Mr. H⸺, who had travelled from France to Naples with this unfortunate
man, and lodged for a length of time in the same house with him, and who
informed me that he was a merchant of Nants, which place, in consequence
of his affairs becoming embarrassed, he had quitted with such money as
he was enabled to collect; and which being expended, his necessities
impelled him to this deliberate act of suicide, forgetting that in
thus terminating his sublunary cares, he was sacrificing his hopes and
interest in a future world.

    “Shall worldly glory impotent and vain,
    That fluctuates like the billows of the main?
    Shall this with more respect thy bosom move,
    Than zeal for crowns that never fade above?
    Avert it Heaven! be here thy will resign’d
    Religion claims this conquest o’er the mind.”

While we were upon the mountain, a party of Austrians had arrived with
the intention of reposing on the couches, which the hermit is provided
with for that purpose, and setting out for the crater at day-break. This
is perhaps a preferable plan to the one which we had adopted.

After remaining an hour at the hermitage we re-commenced our journey to
Resina by torch-light, the moon having sunk below the horizon. About
three o’clock we re-entered our carriage, and at four in the morning
arrived at Naples.

Before quitting the subject of Mount Vesuvius, it may be interesting
to give the following extract of a description of this now quiescent
volcano, when under a state of turbulence, with some observations on the
causes of this interesting natural phenomenon.

“Exclusive of those periods when there are actual eruptions, the
appearance and quantity of what issues from the mountain are various;
sometimes, for a long space of time together, it seems in a state of
almost perfect tranquillity; nothing but a small quantity of smoke
ascending from the volcano, as if that vast magazine of fuel, which
has kept alive for so many ages, was at last exhausted, and nothing
remained but the dying embers; then, perhaps, when least expected, the
cloud of smoke thickens, and is intermixed with flame; at other times,
quantities of pumice-stones and ashes, are thrown up with a kind of
hissing noise. For near a week the mountain has been more turbulent than
it has been since the small eruption, or rather boiling over of lava,
which took place about two months ago; and while we remained at the top,
the explosions were of sufficient importance to satisfy our curiosity
to the utmost. They appeared much more considerable there, than we had
imagined while at a greater distance; each of them was preceded by a
noise like thunder within the mountain, a column of thick black smoke
then issued out with great rapidity, followed by a blaze of flame; and
immediately after, a shower of cinders, and ashes, or red hot stones,
were thrown into the sky. This was succeeded by a calm of a few minutes,
during which, nothing issued but a moderate quantity of smoke and flame,
which gradually increased, and terminated in thunder and explosion as
before. These accesses and intervals continued with varied force while we
remained.

“When we first arrived, our guides placed us at a reasonable distance
from the mouth of the volcano, and on the side from which the wind came,
so that we were no way incommoded by the smoke. In this situation the
wind also bore to the opposite side, the cinders, ashes, and other fiery
substances, which were thrown up; and we ran no danger of being hurt,
except when the explosion was very violent, and when red hot stones,
and such heavy substances, were thrown like sky-rockets, with a great,
and prodigious force, into the air; and even these make such a flaming
appearance, and take so much time in descending that they are easily
avoided.”—MOORE’S VIEW, &c.

“There is no volcanic mountain in Europe, whose desolating paroxysms
have been so fatally experienced, and so accurately transmitted to us,
as those of Vesuvius. This mountain is well known to constitute one of
the natural wonders of the kingdom of Naples. Like Parnassus, it has been
said to consist of two summits, one of which, situated in a westward
direction, is called by the natives Somma; and the other, running in a
southern line, Proper Vesuvius, or Vesuvio; and it is this last alone,
which emits fire and smoke. The two hills, or summits, are separated by a
valley about a mile in length, and peculiarly fertile in its production.

“The eruptions of this mountain have been numerous in almost every age of
the Christian era, and on many occasions prodigiously destructive. The
eruptions of volcanoes are usually attended by some shocks like those of
earthquakes, although commonly less violent. Open volcanoes continually
throw out, in more or less abundance, smoke, ashes, and pumice-stones,
or light cinders, but their most formidable effects are produced by
a torrent of ignited lava, which, like a vast deluge of liquid, or
semi-liquid fire, lays waste the country over which it runs, and buries
all the work of human art. In March, 1767, Vesuvius began to throw out a
considerable quantity of ashes and stones, which raised its summit in the
course of the year no less than two hundred feet, forming first a little
mountain of pumice-stones within the crater, which, by degrees, became
visible above the margin. The smoke, which was continually emitted, was
rendered luminous at night, by the light derived from the fire burning
below it. In August, some lava had broken through this mountain, and in
September, it had filled the space left between it and the former crater.
On the 13th and 14th of October, there were heavy rains, which, perhaps,
supplied the water concerned in the eruption that shortly followed.

“On the morning of the 19th, clouds of smoke were forced, in continual
succession, out of the mouth of the volcano, forming a mass like a large
pine-tree, which was lengthened into an arch, and extended to the island
of Caprea, twenty-eight miles off; it was accompanied by much lightning,
and by an appearance of meteors like shooting stars. A mouth then opened
below the crater, and discharged a stream of lava, which Sir William
Hamilton ventured to approach within a short distance, imagining that
the violence of the confined materials, must have been exhausted; but on
a sudden, the mountain opened with a great noise at a much lower point,
about a quarter of a mile from the place where he stood, and threw out
a torrent of lava, which advanced straight towards him, while he was
involved in a shower of small pumice-stones and ashes, and in a cloud of
smoke. The force of the explosions were so great, that doors and windows
were thrown open by them at the distance of several miles. The stream
of lava was in some places two miles broad, and sixty or seventy feet
deep; it extended about six miles from the summit of the mountain, and
remained hot for several weeks.

“In 1794, a still more violent eruption occurred; it was expected by the
inhabitants of the neighbourhood, the crater being nearly filled, and
the water in the wells having subsided; showers of immense stones were
projected to a great height, and ashes were thrown out so copiously, that
they were very thick at Taranto, two hundred and fifty miles off; some of
them were also wet with salt water. A heavy noxious vapour, supposed to
be carbonic acid, issued in many places from the earth, and destroyed the
vineyards in which it was suffered to remain stagnant. A part of the town
of Torre de Greco was overwhelmed by a stream of lava, which ran through
it into the sea.

“The shocks of earthquakes and the eruptions of volcanoes, are, in all
probability, modifications of the effects of one common cause: the same
countries are subject to both of them; and where the agitation produced
by an earthquake extends farther than there is any reason to suspect a
subterraneous commotion, it is probably propagated through the earth
nearly in the same manner as a noise conveyed through the air.

“Volcanoes are found in almost all parts of the world, but most commonly
in the neighbourhood of the sea; and especially in small islands: for
instance, Italy, Sicily, Japan, the Caribbees, the Cape Verd islands,
the Canaries, and the Azores: there are also numerous volcanoes in
Mexico, and Peru, especially Pichincha, and Cotopaxi. The subterraneous
fires, which are constantly kept up in an open volcano, depend, perhaps
in general, on sulphurous combinations, and decompositions, like the
heating of a heap of wet pyrites, or an union of sulphur and iron
filings: but in other cases, they may, perhaps, approach more nearly
to the nature of common fires. A mountain of coal has been burning in
Siberia for nearly a century, and most probably has undermined, in some
degree, the neighbouring country.

“The immediate cause of an eruption appears to be very frequently an
admission of water from the sea, or from subterraneous reservoirs; it
has often happened that boiling water has frequently been discharged in
great quantities from a volcano; and the force of steam, is, perhaps,
more adequate to the production of violent explosions, than any other
power in nature. The consequence of such an admission of water, into
an immense collection of ignited materials, may, in some measure, be
understood, from the accidents which occasionally happen in foundries;
thus, a whole furnace of melted iron was a few years ago dissipated into
the air in Colebrook Dale, by the effects of a flood which suddenly
overflowed it. The phenomena of earthquakes and volcanoes are amply
illustrated by the particular accounts, transmitted to the Royal Society
by Sir William Hamilton, of those which have happened at different times
in Italy.”—POLEHAMPTON.

Notwithstanding the extraordinary exertions of the preceding night, I
arose at nine o’clock on the following morning, without being sensible
of any inconvenience, and commenced my preparations for leaving Naples.
My friend C⸺ had engaged to accompany me, which promised to be, indeed,
an important accession to my comforts and gratifications, as I was sure
of not only a warmly attached friend, but a most amusing and intelligent
fellow-traveller, from whom I was certain to derive essential advantages,
as he was well acquainted with almost every European language. Perhaps
few had experienced more vicissitudes of fortune than this gentleman,
or been exposed to a greater variety of dangers and adventures, many of
which bordered not a little on the romantic.

The following incidents, which are of recent occurrence, appear so
interesting, that I cannot deny myself the pleasure of relating them.
On returning from South America, in the beginning of the year 1815, he
visited Paris; and soon afterwards Bonaparte regained possession of
it. One day as he was passing through an encampment near the city, his
passport was demanded by the soldiers, when he presented them with an
American one; he was immediately accused of being a spy, and taken
before the commandant, who debated whether he should be instantly put
to death, or sent a prisoner to Paris: the latter plan was, however,
adopted. On their way, his escort of infantry were overtaken by a party
of intoxicated dragoons, who wanted to take their prisoner from them, and
who on being refused, made attempts to effect their purpose by force.
They were however disappointed, the infantry placing my friend against a
wall, and protecting him from their efforts to cut him down with their
sabres; they succeeded at length in conducting him safe to the General
Commandant at Paris. This officer was soon satisfied with his innocence,
and liberated him, directing at the same time one of his aid-de-camps to
accompany him into the street, and there shake hands with him, in order
to convince the mob that he was a friend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAP. XXII.

JOURNEY FROM NAPLES TO ROME AND FLORENCE.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAP. XXIII.

FLORENCE—AND JOURNEY TO MILAN.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAP. XXIV.

MILAN.


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




CHAP. XXV.

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


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

On the following morning, we breakfasted at St. Germano, and passed
several rivers, with good modern bridges over them. Whenever we
inquired how they came by such fine roads and bridges, the reply always
attributed them to Bonaparte, so that if he had robbed their churches and
monasteries, he had left them many a recompense; and they were willing
to admit, that he usefully employed the poor in improving their country,
and liberally patronized the arts.

Between seven and eight in the evening, we entered Turin, and in the
morning directed our first attention to getting our passports properly
arranged for our future journey; with this view we attended the police;
and afterwards the Sardinian minister, where they demanded four francs
from each of us for his signature. After this we walked about the town,
where my friend expressed himself uncommonly pleased with the grandeur,
beauty, and regularity of the buildings, streets, squares, and shops.
The inhabitants generally addressed us in French, which gave us much the
impression of a French town. After dinner we visited the queen’s villa,
situated on the top of a hill, half a mile out of the town, in our way
to which we crossed the Po (which has its source twenty-five miles above
Turin, in the recesses of Monte Viso), over a magnificent bridge of five
arches, built by the French, the approach to which was through a noble
street, bearing the name of the river, with arcades on either side of
it. The villa possesses a most commanding view of the city, river, and
country around it, but contains nothing particularly good, except that
the gardens are well laid out. After this we returned to the city,
and promenaded the bank of the river, but were obliged to desist from
extending our ramble by the coming on of a rainy evening. After breakfast
the next day, we renewed our examination of the city, visiting the
boulevards, and other parts, but were again compelled to return by the
weather. On this account we took shelter in a caffé, where we observed in
the papers, the first official account of the death of Napoleon, a rumour
of which had reached us before we left Florence.

    “If thou had’st died as honour dies,
    Some new Napoleon might arise
    To shame the world again—
    But who would soar the solar height,
    To set in such a starless night?”

It continued raining the remainder of the day, and we employed ourselves
in writing letters, and making preparations for our departure on the
morrow, being obliged to forego visiting the churches, palaces, theatres,
and other interesting objects of the place. It is true, we looked into
two or three churches, but they seemed to possess nothing out of the
ordinary way. The streets of Turin, particularly the new part, being
laid out at right angles, makes it easy to traverse the town; we could
not but notice the thinness of population, notwithstanding we knew the
city was proportionally thickly inhabited—this was no doubt to be partly
accounted for, from numbers having, during the summer season, retired
to their country-seats, and partly to the late political occurrences,
which have created a great distrust, and suspicion of those who remained,
many of whom were at this time apprehensive of arrest and imprisonment,
on account of their conduct or opinions, so that they were afraid to
stir from out of their houses—nay, many had actually absconded on these
accounts. But I do not profess to detail the political history of the
countries I visited.

On Sunday, the 15th of July, we took our leave of Turin, with six new
passengers in our voiture. We passed through Rivoli, which has a royal
palace, to Ambrogia, where we breakfasted; we now entered defiles of
mountains, the road becoming heavy; the rain, however, which had been
before incessant through the morning, began to clear off, and we had a
fine afternoon, which in some respects compensated for the badness of the
roads. A new road from Turin to Susa, has lately been laid out by the
Sardinian government, part of which we traversed, but found it at present
very uncomfortable, consisting of a mere bed of stones. We reached Susa,
about seven o’clock, an ancient town, situated amidst rocky eminences,
on the banks of the Dura, here a small stream, but before it reaches
Turin, increased into a considerable river.

The town of Susa is more respectable than we had expected to find it, but
thinly inhabited, as notwithstanding it was a fine Sunday’s evening, very
few people were walking about. My friend remarked, both here and in the
places we had passed through this day, that the men were of diminutive
stature, and ludicrously dressed, wearing cocked-hats, very long tails,
and black breeches, and frequently without either shoes or stockings.

In the morning we set out from Susa at three o’clock, with the voiture
drawn by five mules, our driver reserving his horses until we had
ascended Mount Cenis. Soon after leaving Susa, we travelled over an
alternation of moderate acclivity and level ground, until we passed
Novalese, when the road became steep, notwithstanding it was sound
and good, and occasionally took a winding direction to diminish the
labour of ascent. About half-way up, we passed a miserable village,
named Ferrieres. At this point we rested a while, that my friend might
contemplate the stupendous and sublime scenery, amidst which we had been
for some time making our progress.

    “⸺pleas’d at first, the towering Alps we try,
    Mount o’er the vales, and seem to tread the sky,
    Th’ eternal snows appear already past,
    And the first clouds and mountains seem the last,
    But those attain’d, we tremble to survey
    The growing labours of the lengthened way,
    Th’ increasing prospect tires our wand’ring eyes,
    Hills peep o’er hills, and alps on alps arise.”

From hence to the summit, we observed several detached habitations at
short distances from each other, intended for the residences of the
people stationed here by government, to keep open the road during the
winter, by clearing away the falls of snow, and rocks which might shelve
down from the surrounding mountains; or to give shelter to the way-worn
or benighted traveller. These men are thought to be well paid, receiving
three francs a day, but they fully deserve it, for their situation is, in
my opinion, most unenviable.

My friend observed a gallery cut out of the solid rock, which had
formerly been used as a road, but which from apprehension of danger in
that direction, had fallen into disuse.

At the top of this mountain is situated a plain termed San Nicolo, a
stone terminus placed on which, by its inscription, informs the traveller
that he is now quitting Italy, and entering Savoy. Then farewell Italy!
we exclaimed;—but I shall leave to the reader’s imagination, the feelings
with which we quitted this highly favoured country; nor shall I, for
good reasons, attempt to depict the magnificent scene which is to be
witnessed from this commanding elevation of six thousand feet above the
level of the sea, over the beautiful plains of Piedmont in the distance,
with the sublime Alpine features, which were extended around us, and
beneath our feet; but in lieu of this, I shall beg leave to introduce
the spirited description of Lord Byron, in his translation of Dante’s
prophecy.

    “Thou, Italy! so fair, that Paradise,
    Revived in thee, blooms forth to man restored;
    Ah! must the sons of Adam lose it twice?
    Thou, Italy I whose ever-golden fields,
    Plough’d by the sunbeams solely, would suffice
    For the world’s granary; thou, whose sky heaven gilds
    With brighter stars, and robes with deeper blue;
    Thou, in whose pleasant places summer builds
    Her palace, in whose cradle empire grew,
    And form’d the eternal city’s ornaments
    From spoils of kings whom freemen overthrew;
    Birth-place of heroes, sanctuary of saints,
    Where, earthly first, then heavenly glory made
    Her home; thou, all which fondest fancy paints,
    And finds her prior vision but pourtray’d
    In feeble colours, when the eye—from the Alp
    Of horrid snow, rock, and shaggy shade
    Of desert-loving pine, whose emerald scalp
    Nods to the storm—dilates, and dotes o’er thee.”

We found the air on Mount Cenis particularly keen, and it failed not to
produce a corresponding effect upon our appetites, nor was this to be
wondered at, as we had now been travelling seven hours without breakfast.
Our driver was, however, quite unwilling to indulge us with a quarter of
an hour for the purpose of quieting these sensations; nor did we carry
the point, until we insisted upon it peremptorily. After all, we could
only get a hasty repast of tea and bread and butter; whereas we were
strongly tempted by some beautiful trout, which had just arrived from
out of a neighbouring lake of considerable size and unfathomable depth,
situated in the centre of the plain.

The plain of San Nicolo is about six miles in length, and four broad; and
notwithstanding its great elevation, was at this time free from snow, and
covered with flowers and verdure. It is encompassed on all sides by the
Alpine ridges, the highest of which rises three thousand feet still above
it, and is clothed with eternal snow. It was from the top of this plain
that Hannibal is said to have pointed out the rich fields of Italy to his
wearied army.

At the distance of about a mile from the inn where we had taken
refreshment, we arrived at a fort, within the walls of which stands the
convent of Saint Bernard. We were detained here to have our passports
examined. On the plain a considerable quantity of stone was lying on the
road side, which was white as snow; my companions fancied it marble; it
felt, however, to me of closer texture, and both heavier and harder than
any marble I had ever met with; I carried off a piece, as a specimen,
which proves to be a peculiarly hard sulphate of lime.

At length we began to descend the north side of the mountain, and at the
foot of it entered the town of Lanslebourg, where we had our regular
breakfast. At this place our party were imposed upon by an old woman, who
pretended to be a hundred and seven years of age, and which she professed
to prove by a certificate of her grandmother’s baptism, which she passed
off as her own; before we left, our landlady exposed the imposition,
informing us, that she obtrudes this certificate upon all travellers who
pass that way.

The road, this afternoon, was hilly, narrow, and rough; we made, however,
only a short stage, stopping to sleep at Modane. The inn at this place
was full of Sardinian troops, on which account we took the precaution to
have our baggage removed into our bed-rooms, for my friend C⸺ had the
cord whipped from off his trunk before he could look around him. We found
a peculiar difficulty in explaining our wishes to have this arrangement
effected, to the female who waited upon us; my friend, who was a very
superior linguist, essayed in vain to make her comprehend our intentions,
until at length we discovered that she was both deaf and dumb; she
possessed, however, extraordinary acuteness, and could be made to
understand almost any thing by signs; she afterwards waited upon us well
at supper, and in conveying our luggage to the coach on the following
morning.

We breakfasted the next day at St. Jean de Maurienne, a small town, with
narrow streets, situated in the middle of the Alps. On our way from hence
to Aigue Bella, where we rested for the night, we passed an unfinished
fort, which his Sardinian majesty is by treaty compelled to erect at this
spot.

Wednesday the 18th was a fine warm day. We breakfasted at Montmelian,
famous for its wines, both white and red, and particularly the latter.

Since descending Mount Cenis, the roads have been very indifferent, but
the country highly romantic; to-day we passed a number of waterfalls,
and repeatedly crossed the river R⸺; at half after one we arrived at
Chambery, the capital of Savoy, where we dined, and staid all night. This
town is delightfully situated, and has many pleasant walks about it; the
streets are, however, narrow, and the pavements bad. We were informed
that it abounded with the necessaries of life, which were to be purchased
at a reasonable rate. The whole of our journey from Mount Cenis had
impressed us with the feeling of being in France, as we heard nothing but
that language, and the patois of the country.

Our companions from Turin all quitted us at Chambery; but in the morning
we took up two young gentlemen from Lyons, who were going to the baths of
Aix; one of them, however, when we had proceeded five miles, found out
that he had left his portmanteau behind him at Chambery, and returned to
look after it.

We arrived at Aix les Baignes for breakfast, after which we took a
cursory view of the town and baths, which were built by the Emperor
Gratian, and with both of which we were much pleased. I attempted in
vain, to ascertain the nature of the waters; they referred me to a
book-seller, who shewed me a treatise in praise of their virtues, but all
the information I could gain respecting the point in question, was, that
they contained sulphur; which we had previously detected by the test of
our noses.

After leaving Aix, we proceeded to Ramilly; about midway between these
places is a waterfall on the right, but at a distance from the road,
which is visited by most of the strangers who take the waters at Aix.

In the evening we reached Frangy, where, notwithstanding we had travelled
by ourselves in the voiture, we were not without a supper party, for we
were favoured with the company of no less than four vitturenos. They were
so far pleasant company, that they treated us with respect, and amused us
with their conversation respecting the number of their passengers, fares,
&c.

On Friday, the 20th of July, we set off in great spirits, in the prospect
of reaching Geneva for breakfast; soon after leaving Frangy, which lies
in a deep galley, we began to ascend a steep mountain, the top of which,
it took us four hours to arrive at; this accomplished, we descended
again, and shortly afterwards entered Switzerland, that country—

    “Where rougher climes a nobler race display;
    Where the bleak Swiss their stormy mansion tread,
    And force a churlish soil for scanty bread.”

At eleven o’clock we made our entry into the city of Geneva.




CHAP. XXVI.

GENEVA.—LAUSANNE.


On arriving at Geneva, we took up our residence at the Hotel de Corona,
and discharged our vittureno, a little dark-looking Savoyard, but with a
great oddity of temper, being either in the extreme of sulkiness, or good
humour; he was, however, so quietly disposed, that he slept the greater
part of the way, either on his horses or in the cabriolet. The manner
in which he took his leave of us was singular enough; after inquiring
whether we were satisfied with his attentions, and being answered in the
affirmative, he proceeded to say that he did not ask for a buona-mana, as
he knew such a donative was excluded by our agreement, but that he hoped
we would give something, no matter whether a franc or a Napoleon, to
_prove_ that we were satisfied with him.

When at Edinburgh, I had formed an acquaintance with a gentleman of this
place, Dr. P⸺; one of my first objects was to find him out, and I had
the pleasure of succeeding: after expressing much surprise, he kindly
offered me his services during our stay at Geneva.

The short time we remained at this interesting place, made it impossible
that we could enjoy all the gratifications which it was capable of
affording; we determined, however, to make the most of the little time
which we could afford.

Amongst the incidents which I reflect upon with the greatest pleasure, I
must place the very interesting visit we paid to M. Huber, so well known
in the literary world for his acute observations in Natural History, and,
particularly, his patient and extraordinary investigation of the habits
and economy of that valuable insect, the common honey-gathering bee.
There existed a sympathy and fellow-feeling, between this amiable man
and myself, of no common kind, for we had both of us long been excluded
from all enjoyment of the “visual ray;” forty years before, and in the
prime of life, M. Huber had the misfortune to lose his sight. Besides
his superior acquaintance with natural history, M. Huber is a deep
mathematician, and accomplished musician.

Before the present personal introduction, we were, however, not entirely
unknown to each other, as through the medium of Dr. P⸺, when at
Edinburgh, we had exchanged mutual compliments.

At this time he was residing at his country house, about a mile and a
half from Geneva. We here found him walking alone in his garden, for
which purpose, he has a string extended along a particular walk, which
assists in guiding his steps with confidence, when engaged in deep mental
research.

But, notwithstanding the public and literary character of M. Huber is
so highly estimated, it is in the bosom of his family that his worth
is most to be appreciated: his integrity, benevolence, and urbanity,
have secured the respect and affection of all around him. He has been
particularly fortunate in the companion of his domestic happiness. We
had the pleasure of being introduced to Madame H⸺, the following traits
of whose character cannot fail to do her the highest honour. M. H⸺ and
herself had formed an attachment for each other, before his loss of
sight; after this misfortune, her friends urged her to think no more of
him; but neither her affection nor magnanimity would allow her to desert
in adversity that being whom she had loved in prosperity; they were
married, and she has had the exalted gratification of having bestowed a
comfortable independence upon a worthy man, with whom she has now most
happily descended far into the vale of life.

One of the sons of M. H⸺, emulating the literary character of his father,
has distinguished himself by an Essay on the Economy of the Ant; a work
which has been thought worthy of translation into foreign languages.

M. Huber’s reception of me was cordial and flattering; and, after too
short a visit for the full gratification of my feelings, I was obliged
to tear myself away, impressed with indelible sentiments of respect and
veneration for this truly amiable man, and indefatigable philosopher.

The town of Geneva, which contains twenty-three thousand inhabitants, is
by no means highly impressive in its appearance and buildings; it derives
its interest, chiefly, from the beauty and grandeur of the surrounding
scenery, and the energies of its inhabitants, having been the favoured
residence of some of the most celebrated characters that have existed.

The inhabitants are, almost to an individual, possessed of superior
intellectual powers; no doubt the result of the extended system of
education which prevails, and which is supported by various charities,
both public and private, so that the poorest native has opportunities of
acquiring, what may almost be termed, a liberal education. I could not be
otherwise than forcibly impressed, with the similarity of character and
pursuits, between the inhabitants of this town and those of Edinburgh.

There is a celebrated academy at Geneva, which possesses twelve
professors, and no less than six hundred students, and is adorned by an
immense and valuable library, to which the pupils have free access.

The female part of the community also shew a superiority of intellect, of
which I experienced various instances. We found the ladies whom we had
the pleasure of being acquainted with, almost universally well versed in
polite literature, and frequently acquainted with the English and German
languages. I was much amused with the acuteness displayed by the young
woman of a shop, which I entered to purchase a straw hat; and which was,
at the same time, combined with great simplicity and _naiveté_. I can
scarcely express the quickness and readiness of manner with which she
attended to my wants, and the determination she shewed that I should be
suited. She was both young and pretty, and I could not forbear venturing
an inquiry, whether she was married, by asking her, if I was correct in
addressing her as _Mademoiselle_, to which she frankly replied, with
an air of evident satisfaction, almost amounting to exultation, “_Non
Monsieur, Je ne suis pas marié encore, mais je serai dans un mois._” And
I believe the favoured swain was not far distant, for my friend observed
a handsome young man on the _qui vive_ about the door, with his eyes
frequently directed towards her.

On Sunday, we were favoured with an invitation to breakfast with Dr.
P⸺, whose father is a banker of this city; our entertainment was of a
splendid kind, _à la fourchette_. Breakfast being concluded, we left the
ladies, and went to hear divine service, with the manner of performing
which we were highly pleased. After this we walked upon the ramparts.
Geneva, however, is only partially fortified, and not capable of
sustaining an energetic siege; as it was found, in the revolutionary war,
to be commanded by the high grounds around it.

The town, as is well known, is situated on the banks of the Rhone, and
near to the magnificent lake which now bears its name. It was formerly
termed Lake Leman, or Lacus Lemanus, and is formed by the waters of
the Rhone, which discharge themselves into this expanded form near
Villeneuve; it is said to lie eleven or twelve hundred feet above the
level of the sea, surrounded by the Alps; amongst which Mont Blanc, with
its two remarkable ridges on each side, or _epaules_ as they are termed,
towers conspicuously.

At length we were compelled, with much reluctance, to prosecute our
journey. We had hoped to have found conveyances to Lausanne by water,
along the beautiful lake, but were disappointed, as the passage is
considered dangerous, in consequence of the sudden gusts of wind which
come down the valleys. The only vessels which are used on the lake, are
for the purposes of fishing and conveying wood, &c. I suggested the
advantages of the steam-boat, which the smoothness of the water seemed
particularly adapted for; but it was objected that the intercourse
between the two places, was not sufficient to compensate the measure.
They seemed unaware that the establishment of such a conveyance, would be
the means of forming the necessary intercourse. In short the Swiss have
not the principles of a maritime nation amongst them.

We engaged our places for Lausanne in the post diligence, which cost us
each five francs Swiss, equal to seven francs and a half French; before,
however, we entered the coach, they made an additional and heavy charge
for the baggage, which, after in vain remonstrating against, we were
compelled to pay. We might have travelled to Lausanne, not only without
this expense, but even for a minor fare, had we looked out for one of the
voitures which are constantly running between these places.

We left Geneva, in company with three ladies, one of whom was of a
_certain_ age, and appeared to have the other two, who were much younger,
under her protection; the elder of the young ladies spoke English
fluently, and undoubtedly had had a superior education; the youngest,
who was more reserved, was a languishing beauty, with a pair of such
expressive and brilliant black eyes, that my friend, who unfortunately
sat directly opposed to their effects, was completely dazzled and
confused. I was myself unfortunately unconscious of a proximity to such
attractive orbs.

Our conversation was chiefly carried on in English, which was not
using the elderly lady fairly, as she was totally unacquainted with
that language. Amongst other inquiries, we requested the explanation
of a circumstance which had much impressed us at Geneva; namely, why
the ladies are generally seen on the public walks in large groupes,
without any gentleman in company with them. This we were told was to be
attributed to the gentlemen, being almost universally members of some
learned society or other; the intercourse with which they prefer, to the
more sentimental conversation of the ladies. In revenge for this neglect,
however, the ladies have also their exclusive associations, which, they
maintain, afford them more pleasure and independence, than they could
derive from converse with the other sex. I must confess myself sceptical
as to the actual indifference of the ladies; and pity most sincerely the
Genevese gentlemen, for thus rejecting the influence of the softer sex.

    “Oh, woman! lovely woman! Nature made ye to temper man—
    We had been brutes without you.”

The road to Lausanne lies alongside the lake, through a delightful
country abounding with vineyards, which produce the esteemed vin de la
Côte. We passed through the little towns of Nyons, Rouge, and Morges,
taking leave of our agreeable companions at the latter, and arriving at
Lausanne between two and three o’clock in the afternoon. Before entering
the town, we were amused with the economical ostentation of our driver,
who threw off a shabby old travelling dress, and put on a fine red coat.

We found the Lion d’Or, to which we had been recommended, quite full;
when recollecting that I had an old college friend, Dr. V⸺, residing at
this place, we bent our steps to his house, with a view of requesting him
to recommend us an hotel; accordingly he had the kindness to send his
servant, to secure apartments at the Hotel D’Angleterre; at the same time
insisting upon our dining with him. After dinner, Dr. V⸺ conducted us to
the Jardin d’Arc, where a society of gentlemen archers assemble in the
evening for their amusement: this is the spot from whence the panoramic
view of Lausanne, lately exhibited in London, was taken.

On the following day we visited the cathedral, and walked over the town;
the former is an ancient building, standing upon very high ground, but
which by its commanding view, I am informed, fully repays the trouble of
ascent.

In the evening we entered the _circle literaire_, an establishment
furnished with a good library, and where the newspapers and many other
periodical publications are taken in. One of the rules of this society
is, that no stranger can be admitted twice.

On Friday the 27th, we set out at an early hour, in a carriage called a
_char_, resembling a sofa placed lengthways on wheels, with a curtained
canopy over head, and an apron below, to protect the traveller from
the weather, to visit my friend R⸺, whom I have before mentioned both
at Toulouse and Montpellier, and who had since taken a wife, and fixed
himself near Vevay.

The road to Vevay throughout lies by the side of the lake, and is so
narrow, being bounded by a wall on each side, that it is impossible
that two carriages could pass each other. The sides of the mountains
that bound the road on the left, and which are so steep as to appear
inaccessible, are richly clothed with vineyards, artfully formed into
terraces, rising in tiers, one above the other. These terraces are formed
by strong and high stone walls, which preserve the soil from shelving
down, and are ascended by flights of steps. The vineyards thus formed,
are exposed to frequent injuries, and often to utter destruction, by the
rapid impulse of the mountain torrents descending from above, and which
occasionally sweep away wall, terrace, and vines, in one indiscriminate
ruin. These natural visitations are, however, borne by the Swiss peasant
with resignation; and notwithstanding he may have lost the whole harvest
of his hopes, he immediately applies himself, to repair the injury,
burying the past in the anticipation of the future.

On arriving at Vevay, we found my friend on the look out for us, and
were immediately conducted to his house two miles beyond the town, and
introduced to his lady. After breakfast he took us to the famous prison
of Chillon, the subject of one of Lord Byron’s eccentric poems, and which
was three miles distant. Here, in the year 1530, the patriot Bonnivard
was doomed, by the duke of Savoy, to a confinement of six years, in one
of its most dismal dungeons.

    “Lake Leman lies by Chillon’s walls;
    A thousand feet in depth below,
    Its massy waters meet and flow;
    Thus much the fathom-line was sent
    From Chillon’s snow-white battlement,
    Which round about the wave enthrals.
    A double dungeon, wall and wave
    Half made, and like a living grave.
    Below the surface of the lake
    The dark vault lies⸺”

We entered this celebrated vault, and examined the seven “pillars of
Gothic mould,” but which, at present, retain only four of the seven rings
described by our poet, three pillars being without them; the chains, said
to have been connected with these rings, have entirely disappeared.

After spending a very happy day, we were obliged, but with the greatest
regret, to leave our kind friend at an early hour, as we had to prepare
for our intended departure from Lausanne early on the following morning.

But we were disappointed in our latter views, owing partly to the
weather, and partly to the difficulty of procuring a suitable conveyance;
we secured, however, places in a voiture for the following morning, and
made ourselves perfectly ready for setting out.

In the morning, at an early hour, we were prepared for our journey. We
waited until six o’clock, when a man came to look at our luggage, after
which, a variety of excuses were sent, which terminated in our being
informed, that the voiture would not go that day, but that we might be
sent in a char to Berne, for which town, we had taken our places. For
a time, we insisted on the fulfilment of our agreement, but, beginning
to apprehend we should otherwise be prevented from getting away to-day,
we at length agreed to put up with the char. It was accordingly brought
forward; on placing, however, my friend’s trunk behind it, this was found
too large to be attached, without a risk of injury on both sides. In
consequence, they were obliged eventually to convey us in the voiture; I
am convinced, that in obtaining this point, we were indebted entirely to
their fears of offending Dr. V⸺.

I cannot leave Lausanne without paying the due tribute of gratitude to
this gentleman and his worthy father, for their kind attentions during
our stay at that place.




CHAP. XXVII.

FROM LAUSANNE TO STRASBURG.


After leaving Lausanne, we arrived at Maudon about noon, where we dined
with an English party that came in soon after ourselves. We afterwards
proceeded to Payerne, where we rested for the night. At this place, a
small, but short down-bed was placed loosely over the coverlet, so that
one slept both under a bed, and over a bed; this is not uncommon in
various parts of the continent; but however comfortable the custom may be
in winter, it was by no means agreeable at midsummer.

On the following morning, after leaving Payerne, we passed through the
ancient town of Avenche, and the neat one of Morat, close to a lake of
the same name. We stopped to dine at the village of Gummingen, situated
on the banks of the Sarine, over which, there is a covered wooden
bridge, and which is distant about four leagues from Berne. From hence
we ascended a steep hill, from the top of which, the town and lake of
Neuchatel are visible. At half after six in the evening, we arrived at
Berne, where, finding the principal inn full, we were obliged to put up
with a secondary one; however we were well accommodated.

We employed the following morning in examining this interesting city: we
promenaded the ramparts, and the fine public walk near to the cathedral,
which is greatly admired for its commanding view. This was once the only
public walk which the town possessed, but a new one said to surpass it in
magnificence, has been formed along a high bank on the side of the Aar,
which looks proudly upon the city and country, with the Glaciers in their
vicinity.

Berne is built with much regularity and some magnificence; the houses
are chiefly of white free-stone, and uniform in their height and
appearance; in the principal streets, piazzas are erected on each side,
over foot-paths elevated some height above the carriage road, through
the centre of which, runs a small and rapid stream led off from the Aar,
which gives a refreshing coolness to this part of the town, and, at the
same time, promotes its cleanliness.

The public buildings are particularly fine, especially the cathedral,
churches, and the arsenal.

My friend was much amused with the costume of the Bernoise females, and
in particular the peasantry from the country, who came to supply the
markets; their head-dress was very peculiar, and they wore curious
black cloth petticoats, so short as not to reach the knee, with white
stockings. The ladies and towns-women, however, have adopted the greater
length of petticoat.

On Wednesday, the 1st of August, we set off in a carriage, termed a
berlin, for Basle, distant eighteen leagues, paying as many francs each
for our places, and in company with a French gentleman, and a Bernoise
woman, in the dress of her canton. We arrived at Soleure for dinner,
which is an agreeable little town on the banks of the Aar; the houses are
particularly neat and clean, and at the same time built with considerable
taste. We visited the catholic cathedral, which is a remarkably neat
modern structure.

The country between Soleure and Basle is very hilly, and regarded as
beautiful beyond description. We slept at a village five leagues from
Basle, at which place we arrived about noon on the following day.

We took up our residence at the Three Kings, situated on the banks of the
Rhine, over which majestic river, the windows of our apartment projected.
This town, except in point of situation, is very inferior to Berne.

After dinner, we crossed the river by a wooden bridge to Little Basle,
with a view of inquiring into the possibility of getting down the Rhine
by boat; for we found there were no passage boats, as we had been led to
expect. We were informed that a boat was loading, which would probably
set off in a day or two days’ time; but, upon consideration, were induced
to prefer accompanying the French gentleman with whom we had travelled
from Berne, and who was proceeding by diligence on the following morning.

We remarked a custom peculiar to this place, which, however, has, I
believe, been noticed by several travellers, that of keeping the clock
one hour in advance of the regular time. The following explanation of the
origin of this custom has been given. The magistrates having received
information of a plan to make a sudden attack on the city at one o’clock
on the morning, ordered the town-clock to be put forward an hour. The
enemy, hearing it strike two, considered that their design had been
discovered, and abandoned the attempt. In commemoration of the event, it
has ever since been kept an hour in advance.

We left Basle for Strasburg, at eight o’clock in the morning of the 3rd
of August, and entered France at the little town of St. Louis, where our
baggage underwent the strictest examination which we had yet experienced,
in consequence of the extensive illicit introduction of Swiss
manufactures, and particularly cambrics, into France. A merchant, who
was in our company, informed us, that when once travelling in a carriage
of his own, the officers threatened to break it to pieces, unless he
declared in what part the illicit goods, which they were convinced he had
with him, were concealed, stating that they had information of its having
been constructed for that express purpose; they were only prevented
from putting their threats into execution, by his declaring, that as it
contained nothing contraband, he would certainly compel them to make good
the damage.

We dined at Mulhausen, famous for its fine printed cambrics, silks, and
calicoes, and where we were amused, as well as benefited, by the economy
of one of our French companions, who proposed, as it was an early hour
for dinner, that we should take only a _petit dinér_, and which would be
charged half-price: we assented to his proposal, and certainly had as
good and full a dinner as we could wish, consisting of soup, entré, rôti,
vegetables, a dessert, and _un demi-bottaile du vin_.

We reached Colmar about seven o’clock, where we rested three hours, after
which we travelled all night, arriving at Strasburg at four o’clock in
the morning, and taking up our quarters at the Maison Rouge. After dinner
we walked to a bridge of pontoons over the Rhine, about a league distant
from the city, which we crossed, to the gates of the small town of Kehl;
on our way back, we found the bar of a bridge over one of the tributary
streams to the Rhine closed; our passage was thus obstructed, but we
got over it without difficulty, an offence for which we only escaped
arrest by pleading, as strangers, our ignorance of the regulation. On our
arrival at Strasburg, also, we were but just in time to enter before the
gates were shut; had we been a little later, we must inevitably have been
excluded for the night.

On the next day, Sunday, we visited the noble Gothic cathedral, which
possesses the highest and finest steeple in the world, the summit being
five hundred and seventy-four feet from the ground. This we ascended, and
I had the temerity to mount some feet higher than my companions, which
procured me a severe lecture; I had no small difficulty to convince them
that the sense of touch, on which I depended, was less likely to deceive
than the eye, when the dizzy height would make the

    “⸺brain turn, and the deficient sight
    Topple down headlong.”

This cathedral is remarkable for the numerous allegorical figures about
it, intended to expose the licentious and crafty characters of the Monks
of former times. We had the works of the renowned clock, once one of the
wonders of Europe, laid open to us, and which describes the various
revolutions of the heavenly bodies.

On our return, we found a military parade in the _place_ where our hotel
stood, the band of which played a variety of fine airs.

On inquiring respecting conveyances down the Rhine, they informed us,
that the Coche d’Eau, which only goes once a week, had unfortunately set
out the morning of our arrival; and as the diligence goes but twice a
week (on Mondays and Thursdays) we lost no time in securing our places
for the morrow, as far as Spire, being led to hope that we should find
water conveyance, from that place to Mayence.

We might indeed have gone down the river in a trading boat, numbers
of which are frequently going from, or passing by Strasburg; but
the accommodations are not to be depended upon, and there was some
uncertainty in their arrival and departure.

In the evening, after securing our places, we walked into the public
gardens, from whence a balloon was sent off, and which was constructed in
the shape of a wine cask, with a Bacchus astride it. This was succeeded
by a display of fire-works, with music and dancing.




CHAP. XXVIII.

STRASBURG TO COBLENTZ.


We left Strasburg at half after six in the morning still in company with
our former French companion. In addition, we had, in our diligence, two
elderly French ladies, who were very chatty and agreeable; they quitted
us, however, in the afternoon, when in lieu of them, we took in a very
nice young woman going to her husband at Gemmingen; and a merchant’s
clerk, who had previously been occupying the cabriolet. At eight in the
evening we arrived at Landau, were we slept at a most comfortable inn.

The whole of the next day was alternately fine and showery. When we had
travelled two leagues from Landau, the spring of the carriage broke down,
and detained us two hours. We noticed that the wife of the blacksmith,
who repaired it, assisted her husband throughout the process, and
appeared even the more dexterous of the two. On entering Gemmingen,
however, their work gave way, and we were in consequence detained two
hours longer; even this afterwards broke out again, but fortunately just
as we reached the end of our journey. These delays were mortifying
enough, as we did not reach Spire until three in the afternoon, instead
of nine o’clock in the morning, as we had expected.

On our arrival at Spire, we might have proceeded forward immediately in
the diligence to Mayence, and which our French companion availed himself
of, but we preferred waiting until morning, in the hope of finding a
conveyance by water. We were however disappointed, and obliged in the
morning to leave Spire in a double bodied diligence, the back part of
which we had to ourselves. We breakfasted at the Red Lion at Frankendal,
a circumstance which I more particularly mention, because I was highly
pleased with the attentive and feeling manner in which an interesting
young woman waited upon me.

About two leagues beyond this place, there is a bridge over the Rhine,
leading to the beautiful town of Manheim, situated on the opposite bank
of the river. After this we passed through Oppenheim, Worms and Inheim,
dining at the latter, and then proceeding to Mayence, where we arrived
about five o’clock, and took up our quarters at the Three Crowns, an
excellent inn, to which we had been recommended by our French friend, who
had left us at Spire, under a promise of rejoining us here. He shortly
afterwards came in and informed us, that besides arranging his own
business, he had ascertained that a large boat sets out for Coblentz
every morning at six o’clock, the fare in which was six francs, with an
additional trifle for the luggage; this vessel, after stopping to dine at
Bingen, arrives at Coblentz, a distance of eighteen leagues, between six
and nine o’clock in the evening, according to the state of the wind; for
sails are made use of whenever the latter is favourable. In consequence
of this report, we determined to secure our passage for the morrow.

Mayence is an interesting town, and the bridge over the Rhine,
fortifications, and promenades, worthy the attention of the traveller.
There are a number of water-mills moored on the river, which make a
singular appearance. The town was at this time garrisoned by a medley of
Austrian, Prussian, and Brandenburgh troops.

The morning proved, unfortunately, both cold and showery, and of
course unfavourable for our journey by water. At six o’clock we left
Mayence. Notwithstanding the disadvantages of weather my friend was
highly interested by the beautiful scenery displayed on the banks of
this magnificent river, consisting of castles, ruins, villages, and
picturesque cottages, bounded by vine-clad mountains. On the right we
passed the mountain of Johansberg, celebrated for its wines.

While dining at Bingen, twenty miles below Mentz, the grand duke Nicholas
of Russia passed through, on his way from the baths of Emms, to visit the
duke of Nassau, whose castle is situated on the right banks of the Rhine,
about four miles below Mentz.

Our dinner party consisted of a motley group of various nations, some of
the individuals composing which, were pleasant, agreeable people. Amongst
them were, what is in some measure unusual, two or three loquacious
Germans; and also a humorous old Dutchman, from whom my friend elicited
much information respecting the best route to Amsterdam. We felt
inclined to have prosecuted our journey into Holland with this latter
person, in order to have availed ourselves of his local information;
but it is questionable whether a plan of this kind generally answers,
for, on the continent, one does not always find liberality enough in
fellow-travellers to put one on his guard against the impositions of
their countrymen. We had a strong illustration of this about the present
time. I have frequently mentioned a French gentleman with whom we had
been travelling from Berne, and to whose kind attentions and gentlemanly
conduct, we felt ourselves on a variety of occasions, highly indebted:
one day, another Frenchman who had also been travelling with us,
proposed to him to direct the landlord of the inn where we dined, to
charge C⸺ and myself double the established price, so as to let them
off without payment. Our friend most indignantly rejected the proposal,
asserting that he was a disgrace to his country, and that it was the
conduct of such scoundrels, which led to the traduction of its character.

I must name one other individual of our dinner party at Bingen,—a
watchmaker, with a pack-full of watches, some of which he exhibited
to us; his prices were from six francs, to twice as many Louis, each;
several of our companions purchased of him at the former rate. How he
could afford to sell upon such terms, it is not easy to account for,
without supposing that he must have stolen his goods. He was a civil
middle-aged man, and had travelled over a great part of Europe, and, in
particular, followed the French army into Russia, where he sold great
numbers of his watches to the soldiers in exchange, I suppose, for their
plunder. After dinner we recommenced our journey, and at half past eight
arrived at Coblentz.

We were recommended by some of our fellow-passengers to fix ourselves at
the Pomme d’Or at this place, which proved, however, to be only a second
rate inn; and we afterwards learnt that the hotel of the Three Swiss is
the preferable one for travellers proceeding by the Coche d’Eau.

On the following morning, we made a party with two young Germans to visit
the baths of Emms, distant about three leagues on the other side of the
Rhine; for this purpose we engaged a coach, to convey us over one of the
worst roads we had yet met with.

The bathing establishment at this place is perhaps the most commodious
in the world. The main building contains two hundred and twenty
lodging-rooms, at different rates; the prices of each being marked on
the doors; it comprises, besides, several beautiful saloons for tables
d’hôte, &c. We found a party of no less than three hundred dining in one
of them, as well as smaller parties in other rooms. The ground floor is
laid out in elegant shops and baths. In a newly attached part, there is a
most noble coffee-room, with billiard and faro rooms.

The scenery around this spot is extremely beautiful, and bounded by
mountains rising majestically into the clouds, clothed to their very
summits with rich vineyards. These baths are the property of the duke of
Nassau, whose capital is about a league distant, and half a mile from the
village of Emms, through which my friend and myself passed on our return
in the evening, having left our German companions behind us.




CHAP. XXIX.

COBLENTZ TO UTRECHT.


On the 11th of August, at six o’clock in the morning, we left Coblentz
in the Coche d’Eau. Amongst the companions who most interested us, was
a young Polish gentleman, undoubtedly a man of family, and who had been
studying at one of the universities on the Rhine; we were much pleased
with his merry convivial manners, and apparent liberality of sentiment;
he seemed desirous of gaining general information, and was probably
travelling with that intention, as he was well acquainted with the French
and German languages, and spoke of visiting Italy and other parts of the
continent within no distant period.

At eleven o’clock we rested an hour for dinner, and at three landed
for a short time at Born, at which place we received on board, for
the diversion of the party, a fiddler, who, for at least three hours,
tortured our ears with a variety of the most discordant strains, both
vocal and instrumental, that can be imagined. A French gentleman and
lady also entered our vessel at this place, and accompanied us for a
few miles, when they disembarked at an interesting part of the river;
they were making a journey along the Rhine upon this principle, and an
excellent mode to us of enjoying its beauties. After leaving Born, we
passed a large and beautiful island, with a convent upon it. About four
o’clock, the country suddenly changed from a mountainous into a rich
champaign appearance. At eight in the evening we reached Cologne, and
placed ourselves at the Hotel de Mayence. We here, in the newspapers, met
with a first account of the Queen’s illness, and which was accompanied by
a report of her death.

We had no time to visit the churches and other interesting objects at
Cologne; amongst which, one of the most celebrated, is the house where
Rubens was born. Nor could we examine the flying, or rather floating
bridge over the Rhine, formed by two immense barges fastened together,
and which are decked, and railed round to prevent accidents, and said
to be sufficiently capacious to receive at least one thousand persons,
besides carriages, &c. at one time; it is secured from passing down
the stream, by an anchor in the middle of the river; on the tinkling
of a bell, the whole is set at liberty, when the force of the current,
assisted by the rudder, carries it to the other side; this is repeated
every quarter of an hour.

Cologne is a dull old town, containing many narrow ill-paved streets.
Every one is acquainted with its celebrity for the manufacture of the
favourite perfumed spirit, the eau de Cologne. Originally there was only
a single manufactory of this article, but the demand has now so greatly
increased, that ten different establishments are engaged in it. We were
informed that it sells here for eight francs the case, containing six
bottles. We were anxious to have purchased a few for the benefit of our
fair friends, but the risk of seizure deterred us from gratifying our
wishes.

At this place our agreeable French companion, who had accompanied us
from Berne, took leave of us; his name was M. Gerard Mignon, a Champagne
wine-merchant of Rheims, and had been a captain in the French army; he
intended passing by Aix la Chapelle to Brussels, at which latter place I
promised myself the pleasure of again meeting with him.

We had proposed following the course of the Rhine as far as we could
towards Amsterdam, to which place I had agreed to accompany my friend on
his way to Russia; but on inquiry we found there was no regular water
conveyance, and therefore determined to avail ourselves of a return
Berlin to Cleves, for which we were to pay sixteen francs each; and as
the journey would occupy two days, this was perhaps reasonable enough
for this country.

At nine o’clock on Sunday morning we set out from Cologne, and travelled
throughout the day over heavy sandy roads; on this account our driver
shewed great consideration for his horses, as he stayed to refresh them
every two hours with bread and water; with this view he had provided a
number of loaves before setting out, and which at first we supposed were
intended for his own use. We dined at a town named Nais, and halted for
the night at Crevelt, a small but well built town, celebrated for its
manufactory of silks and velvets.

Our apartments at this place were so grand, that we thought proper to
inquire the price of them, which greatly hurt the landlord’s feelings,
and led him into a long explanation of his honourable principles; he
said he had fixed prices; and I must admit, that on leaving, we had no
cause to think them unreasonable. We had, however, an additional charge
made upon us, in consequence of declining to take supper. The German
innkeepers are sure to be offended if you inquire their charges. It was
Sunday evening, and our host politely invited us to accompany him to
their weekly ball, but we preferred going to bed.

On Monday morning, after an early breakfast, we recommenced our journey;
and again resting our horses every two hours, arrived about twelve
o’clock at a small village, where we dined. In the afternoon, we fell
in with a return vehicle, a kind of cabriolet with two horses, going to
Nimeguen, which kept company with us till four o’clock; when our driver
succeeded in persuading us, that by taking this opportunity we should
reach Nimeguen to-night; as the driver would turn off, leaving Cleves
on the left, and make a nearer cut by a league; whereas, otherwise we
should not be able to advance farther than the latter place this evening,
and unable to proceed by diligence, before noon next day. Anxiety to
get forward, induced us to avail ourselves of this push; but I think we
never, in our whole lives, travelled in so uneasy a vehicle, or over more
wretched roads; in addition, it began to rain very fast, and the curtains
of our carriage were unable to protect us. After passing through a wood,
about seven o’clock, we reached a decent kind of town, where our driver
fed his horses well; first with bread, and afterwards with chopped hay
and corn, placed before them in the street in a portable manger. After
this we proceeded on to Nimeguen, through an exceedingly heavy sandy
road. A short time before we reached this place, we left the Prussian and
entered the Dutch territories, without the least interruption from the
custom-house officers: instead of the usual bureau, we only found an inn
for entertainment; nor were we detained in the least on this account, on
entering Nimeguen, although it is a strongly fortified and frontier town.
We drove to an inn, called the Post Waggon, which, however, we found so
full, that we were obliged to have beds made up in our sitting-room;
the civility with which we were here treated, induced us to give this
arrangement the preference to seeking out another inn. Before retiring
to bed, we secured our places for Utrecht in the diligence, or, as it is
here called, the Post Waggon, and which was to depart at half after six
in the morning.

On Tuesday, soon after leaving Nimeguen, we crossed the Waal (a branch of
the Rhine) on a flying bridge, which had two or three small cabins built
upon it, and masts with flags flying. We here completed our complement
of passengers, and had much disputation respecting places, which a man
belonging to the coach settled in a very rough authoritative manner. We
were tolerably fortunate in our situation, for the carriage was a clumsy
inconvenient machine, with a front, back, and middle seat, intended for
nine passengers, and the roof timbers without lining.

This unfortunate outset was, however, succeeded by an unexpected
interesting conversation: amongst other agreeable companions, we found
a professor of the university of Leyden, who advocated with great warmth
the literary character of his country; and asserted, in particular, that
it had produced a number of poetical works of higher merit than the world
were disposed to admit of; that even his own countrymen had not duly
appreciated them; but that he trusted the efforts, which were then making
at Leyden, to collect and make them public, would tend to remove this
stigma. As none of us were acquainted with the authors he enumerated, he
remained, of course, undisputed master of the field.

The professor’s wife, and their son, were also of the party; the latter
was a handsome lad of fifteen, who sat in the cabriolet, and occupied
himself in smoking a pipe nearly half as long as himself. We expressed
our surprise at his being allowed to indulge himself in this manner, but
his mother stated that he had entered the college, and therefore was of
the age when it was customary to commence inhaling the fumes of this
deleterious herb.

    “Pernicious weed! whose scent the fair annoys,
    Unfriendly to society’s chief joys;
    Thy worst effect is banishing for hours,
    The sex whose presence civilizes ours.”—COWPER.

But the ladies of Holland are too much used to this custom, to find
it disagreeable; not only habit, but an opinion of its utility, tends
to reconcile them to it. If it possesses any quality in destroying
contagion, I am disposed to imagine that this must depend upon the
stronger poison subduing the weaker, like Aaron’s serpent swallowing up
the rest.

We had also, in our party, a mild, pleasant, and well-informed Swiss
clergyman, the pastor of a protestant church at Hamburgh.

After dining hastily at a village on the road, we continued our journey
through a country, which my friend C⸺ described as beautiful, and
possessing a novel character; we passed Dry Bergen, or three hills, a
place much frequented in summer by the richer inhabitants of Amsterdam
and Utrecht; and afterwards a beautiful village, where there is a
magnificent chateau inhabited by Moravian missionaries; although the
roads were excellent, in consequence of frequently baiting our horses, we
did not reach Utrecht before half after four o’clock; having occupied ten
hours in accomplishing a journey of only forty-two miles.




CHAP. XXX.

UTRECHT—AMSTERDAM.


On arriving at Utrecht, we were prevented from proceeding to Amsterdam
by boat, the same evening, as we had intended, in consequence of heavy
rains; and, by the recommendation of one of our passengers, took up
our quarters at an inferior inn, near which the diligence stopped. The
fire-pan, tobacco, and other accompaniments for smoking, were very
shortly placed before us for our entertainment, and the good people
seemed much astonished that we should prefer the more simple enjoyment of
tea.

This city is celebrated for having been the first to shake off the
galling yoke of Spain in the year 1579. It was here that the seven
provinces formed their alliance, under the counsels of William, prince of
Orange, in a conference known as the treaty of Utrecht.

In the morning, we prepared early to set off by the barge or treckschuyt
for Amsterdam; but, before leaving, we were destined to meet with a
specimen of Dutch manners. The master of the inn made a most exorbitant
charge, and, when my friend questioned it, he repeated the sum in a
rough manner, without deigning to give any other answer, at the same
time, approaching with a menacing aspect; my friend took him by the
shoulder and pushed him off; this lowered his tone, but he was aware that
we had no time to contest it, as we must either set off instantly to gain
the barge, or lose our passage, and therefore obstinately adhered to his
original demand, and upon the principle of choosing the least of two
evils, we thought prudent to comply with it.

After traversing a great part of the city, we fortunately reached the
barge just as it was on the point of starting. There were three cabins,
of different prices, and we had the honour of being placed in the best
or aftermost, for our conveyance in which, and luggage, we were charged
thirty-one stivers each, equal to about half-a-crown; this, for a journey
of twenty miles, we could not complain of. The scenery along this canal,
my friend stated to be beautiful in the extreme; in short, it is regarded
as the most interesting and characteristic picture that this country
displays, and realizes the description of our amiable poet, Goldsmith.

    “The slow canal, the yellow-blossom’d vale,
    The willow-tufted bank, the gliding sail,
    The crowded mart, the cultivated plain.”

We heard them very merry in the fore cabin, but had the one we occupied
to ourselves until about noon, when two elderly Dutch ladies, who were
conversant in French, joined us, and proved agreeable companions,
although they were negative characters.

We rested for a short time at a house of entertainment on the banks of
the canal, where we were refreshed with buttered rolls, which had slices
of cheese laid between the divided halves. At half after two, we arrived
at Amsterdam, and took up our residence at the Wapen van Amsterdam,
instead of the City of Hamburg Hotel, to which we had been recommended,
a mistake we were not aware of until some hours afterwards; however, it
was one of the best inns in the place, so that we had no reason to feel
disappointed. At the table d’hôte, charged thirty stivers per head, we
met with a countryman of ours, Mr. W., with his wife and daughter; and
after dinner, were conducted by him to a coffee-house, where, from the
English papers, we became acquainted with the particulars of her late
majesty’s death.

On the following day, August the 16th, notwithstanding it was disposed
to be rainy, we accompanied Mr., Mrs., and Miss W⸺ to Broeck, and
Saardam. After passing in a ferry-boat to Brocksluyh, we engaged a
tilted carriage, capable of containing nine persons, constructed like a
caravan, the sides with neat open work, and canvas curtains to keep out
the weather.

We arrived at Broeck for breakfast, and the day now proving fine, our
party were delighted with the novel and extraordinary appearance,
and cleanliness of this little paradise. In each house, there is one
particular door which is always kept closed, except on the occasion of a
wedding or funeral. The gardens are the very picture of elegant neatness;
in some of them the shrubs are arranged and cut into the shapes of tables
and chairs, or other fanciful forms; the ground is laid out in pleasing
walks and parterres, and the eye enchanted with the most beautiful
variety of flowers.

We now proceeded to Saardam, where the first circumstance which attracted
our notice, was a new married couple, returning from church to take
coffee, previous to enjoying the wedding dinner; on this occasion, we
were informed that the bride’s fortune was a number of _windmills_, an
article that Amsterdam and its neighbourhood abounds with. Our leading
object, however, was to visit the house once occupied by Peter the Great,
consisting of two small rooms with an enclosed recess for a bed; the
door of which we opened, while some of us stepped within the frame on
which the bed had rested. A board was suspended from the ceiling, with an
inscription in the Dutch and Russian languages, of which, the following
is a translation.

                 “Nothing is too little for a great man.”

The Emperor Alexander visited this spot in the year 1813, and left two
Latin inscriptions on marble, commemorative of the event.

After this, we walked about the village, visited the church, and returned
to Amsterdam for a late dinner, highly gratified with our day’s excursion.

We devoted the greater part of the next day to examining the city of
Amsterdam, which is so intersected with streets, canals, and bridges,
bearing a strong similarity to each other, that it is not an easy matter
to gain an accurate knowledge of it. It takes its name from the river
_Amstel_, and _Dam_, signifying a mound, raised to prevent this river
from overflowing the surrounding country. The city is principally built
upon piles, driven into the morass to form a solid foundation, and of
which it is said, that no less than thirteen thousand are fixed under the
Stadt-house alone. We visited the Exchange, one of the finest buildings
of the kind in Europe. After this, we entered a Jew’s synagogue, the
noisy and discordant devotion of which, soon tired us, so that we were
glad to take our departure, particularly as we had no expectation of
being permitted to bid for the key of the sanctum sanctorum. We regretted
this day, parting from our new and agreeable acquaintance, Mr. W⸺ and his
family, who left us for Utrecht.

On the following morning, one of the partners of the bank of Messrs.
Melvil and Co. with whom I had done business the day before, called to
rectify some trifling error in the discounts, and understanding that I
was proceeding alone, kindly gave me a letter of introduction to a friend
at the Hague.

The time was now approaching, when my friend C⸺ felt compelled to
separate from me; he had from day to day deferred his departure for St.
Petersburg, in hopes of effecting a more agreeable arrangement for his
journey, than had previously offered itself; for he would have been
obliged to have pursued his journey partly by canal, and partly by land,
and the latter night and day, for nearly a week unremittingly, through a
wild country, and along dreadful roads. He had, however, some prospect,
as far as Hamburg, of the company of the Swiss clergyman, who travelled
with us from Nimeguen to Utrecht, but here he was disappointed, for this
gentleman was uncertain when he could depart, and on account of the
advanced state of the summer, and possibility of the winter setting in
early, my friend thought it imprudent to delay any longer; he therefore
concluded upon setting out in the evening of Sunday the 19th, by a vessel
which crosses the Zuyder sea to Lemner, from whence he was to proceed
by diligence or canal to Groningen, where he would find a conveyance to
Bremen and Hamburg.

On Sunday morning, we visited the new church, the organ of which is said
to be the largest in Europe, and to exceed the celebrated one at Haarlem.
After this, we went to the Stadt-house, one of the most magnificent
buildings in Europe; the foundation-stone of which, was laid in the year
1648; it is built of freestone, two hundred and eighty-eight feet in
length, two hundred and thirty-five broad, and one hundred and sixteen
in height, to the top of the roof. The grand saloon is one hundred
and twenty feet long, and one hundred high. We ascended the tower,
the view from whence my friend C⸺ described to be most extensive, and
extremely beautiful, commanding the whole of the town and harbour, and a
considerable surface both of land and water.

We were anxious to have visited the dock-yard, and a variety of other
places in this interesting city, but it became necessary that we should
prepare for our respective departures, as I had determined to set off to
Haarlem, on my way to Brussels, at five in the evening; and much of our
time was frittered away in the unavoidable arrangements for conveyances,
&c. I was induced, in preference to taking the diligence for Rotterdam,
to pass by the barge through the Hague, as this would afford me the
better opportunity of gaining an acquaintance with the country and its
inhabitants.

I shall not attempt to enter into any particular description of the city
of Amsterdam, but merely observe, that I was forcibly impressed with an
idea of its similarity to Venice; both are situated on marshy grounds,
in the immediate vicinity of the sea, and intersected by canals, which
divide them into innumerable small islands; but the farther parallel is
certainly in favour of the latter; for although Pope tells us, that

    “Venice from dirt, and sea-weeds rose;”

yet I think the natural salubrity of its climate, as well as the general
superiority of its buildings, and more extensive display of specimens
of the fine arts, would prove greater attractions in the eyes of the
stranger. With respect to the point of salubrity, the canals of Venice
are more uniformly covered with water than those of Amsterdam, which
offer a surface of mud, and hence fewer noxious exhalations are here
generated; not that I am ignorant that Venice is far from being a
healthy summer residence, in consequence of injurious miasmata, raised
from its very foundations, by the intensity of the solar ray.

The atmosphere of Amsterdam is greatly impregnated with moisture, and
the place necessarily very damp, which must favour the production and
aggravation of rheumatic disease; the liability to which, is perhaps
the best excuse that can be made for the general use of tobacco by its
inhabitants.

It is true, that the above custom also suits the calculating notions of
the Dutch. I am on this point forcibly reminded of the observation of a
solitary and smoking Dutchman, when Dr. Moore had expressed, through the
medium of an interpreter, his regret at being unable to converse with
him, in consequence of his ignorance of the Dutch language; and which was
to this effect: “They ought to console themselves for the accident of
not understanding each other; for as they had no connexions, or dealings
in trade together, their conversing could not possibly answer any useful
purpose.”

The moment now arrived, when I was to be separated from my very kind
friend, with whom I had, on the present tour, travelled more than
fourteen hundred miles; we cheered the painful moments of parting, by
the anticipations of soon meeting again. We fortunately had little time
to spend in useless regrets, for the boat, when we reached the canal,
was on the point of setting off, and they make it a rule to wait for no
one; even an English gentleman, who was in expectation of the momentary
arrival of two friends to accompany him, was obliged to stay behind,
because they would not tarry an instant after the signal bell had rung.
This was a source of regret to my friend, as he had taken much pains to
interest him in my favour, and, indeed, I promised myself some pleasure
from travelling in his company. Not that my heart was sufficiently
frenchified, to be capable of suddenly expanding to the warmth of a new
friendship; no! I preferred indulging in the delightful emotions inspired
in it, by the recollections of my late amiable companion; of whose
uniform kindness, and anxious concern for me, I shall never—never cease
to be most sensible.




CHAP. XXXI.

JOURNEY FROM AMSTERDAM TO BRUSSELS.


I was now once more left to my own resources, and shortly ascertained,
that there were two young Dutchmen on board who were acquainted with
English. Their father, I afterward found, was a merchant, retired from
business in order to secure, under the present depressed state of trade,
the fruits of his former industry. The sons had learnt English, as a
necessary accomplishment for the duties of their father’s office, the
concerns of which lay chiefly in England.

Haarlem is distant seven miles from Amsterdam, and the journey occupies
nearly three hours; about midway we arrived at a village, where we had to
change both the canal and barge, walking through the town, our luggage
being conveyed by barrowmen. On our arrival at Haarlem, the captain,
after arranging with his other passengers, accompanied me to the Lion
d’Or, to which I had been recommended. Before entering the inn, I was
not a little surprised by the landlord’s daughter inquiring from me in
English, where my friend was. I replied that I was alone; and she asked
whether I had not had a friend with me; on satisfying her, and saying
that he was gone to Hamburg, she offered to take care of me, and in case
I was proceeding to the Hague and Rotterdam, to give me letters to houses
where I should receive every attention. Of course I endeavoured to learn
how she had acquired any knowledge of me, which she explained by stating,
that her father had been the day before, at our inn at Amsterdam, and had
become acquainted with my intention of visiting Haarlem, and that they
looked out for me as an uncommon traveller.

While I was taking refreshment, the gentlemen with a lady, who had been
disappointed in their passage by our barge, arrived, and as they were
proceeding to Leyden on the following morning, I determined to avail
myself of their invitation to accompany them.

We arose early in the morning to walk over the town, which is of great
antiquity, having been a flourishing place as early as 1155; but the most
interesting object, is the statue of Lawrence Coster, once an alderman of
this city, and the asserted inventor of the art of printing, and which
stands in the _grand place_. It is true that the honour of the above
invention is disputed with Coster and Haarlem, by various other towns of
Germany, as Mentz, Strasburg, &c.; but there is strong ground to consider
Coster entitled to the priority of claim, as the dates of some of the
books of his printing are anterior to those of Faust, or any other of
his competitors. Adrianus Junius, who was born at Hoorn, in 1507, tells
us, that Coster hit upon this invention as he was walking in a wood
near Haarlem, by cutting the bark of beech-trees into letters, and then
stamping them upon paper as a seal; and that he afterwards extended and
improved his discovery, and set up a printing office in his house, and
that Faust, or Fust, who was a servant of his, one day, while the family
were at church, stole away his types and other materials, and fled with
them to Mentz, where he commenced business as a printer.

The first book which Coster brought out, and his original types, are
preserved in the Stadt-house for the inspection of the curious; we had
not, however, time to examine them, nor even to hear the celebrated
organ of this city, for we did not arrive on the day before until after
evening service had concluded; and to hear it at any other time, is a
gratification which must be handsomely paid for.

Immediately after breakfast, we set off to take the treckschuyt for
Leyden, to which the landlord’s daughter insisted on accompanying me,
notwithstanding I was now kindly assisted by my countrymen. I took leave
of her, of course, with feelings and expressions of gratitude for her
uncommon attention. The barges on these canals are towed by horses,
the rope passing from the top of a mast, in order to carry it clear of
the ground, and which mast is fixed on a swivel joint to admit of its
being lowered at pleasure in passing under bridges. There were in the
present boat three cabins, the aftermost, which is considered the best,
being occupied by a private party: we were in the middle one, which
was very commodious, and had but few companions, and those not very
loquacious, for the natives of this country shew little disposition to
enter into conversation with strangers. We had a laugh or two at one of
our companions, who, finding his seat too hard, requested a cushion, for
which accommodation they afterwards made an extra charge; at another
time, he got out to walk on the bank, and had much difficulty to keep up
with the boat, before an opportunity offered of getting in again. The
day was fine, and the country around us said to be highly luxuriant. At
twelve o’clock we arrived at Leyden, being a distance of four leagues.

Both this town and Haarlem are famous for the long sieges they supported
against the Spaniards, under Frederic, son of the duke of Alva, in the
year 1573.

After ordering dinner at the Golden Lion, we sallied forth to examine
the town, of which it is impossible I can give any thing like a
description, from so slight a perambulation, as it is said to comprise
eight gates, twenty-four canals, fifty islands, one hundred and eighty
streets, and one hundred and forty-five bridges. It was here that the
electric battery, named the Leyden Jar, was first invented, and that
the illustrious Boerhaave, filled with an eclat never surpassed, the
professorship of medicine in this celebrated university. This great
man was born at Voorhoot, a village near this place, in the year
1688, and died in 1738. There is a proverb of his which deserves a
marked attention, “The sparks of calumny will presently be extinct of
themselves, unless you blow them.”

I should have felt pleasure in staying longer at this place, but that
I was desirous of getting to Brussels without delay. I therefore, in
company with Mr. T—, one of the English gentlemen, the other staying
behind with his lady, set off by the barge to the Hague. In our way,
we passed the village of Leysendam, which we walked through to another
barge, on the right of which is Catwick, where the last branch of the
Rhine, which retains its original name, loses itself in the sands. At
eight o’clock in the evening we reached the Hague, after a journey of
three hours, and took up our quarters at the hotel of Marshal Turenne.

On the following morning, Tuesday, Aug. 21st, we arose early, and took a
walk through the town before breakfast, and which we afterwards extended
to Scheveling. The road to this place is excellent, shaded on both sides
by trees. The village itself is large and extremely neat, situated near
the sea, and much resorted to as a bathing-place during the summer; the
sea, however, is not visible from the town, a sand-hill being interposed
between these points.

We returned from our walk in sufficient time to set out by the
treckschuyt for Rotterdam, which is thirteen miles distant from the
Hague. My companion was much pleased with the palaces and walks about
this place, which he thought must be a delightful residence.

After travelling about an hour and a quarter, we reached Delft, where
we landed, and traversed the city to another barge on the opposite side
of it. Delft is a fine clean city, with canals running through the
streets, and rows of trees on each side of them. In one of the churches
are deposited the remains of William the First of Nassau, prince of
Orange, who, at the instigation of Philip the Second, was assassinated at
this place. Delft is also famous as the birth-place of Hugo Grotius, the
immortal author of a Treatise on the Truth of the Christian Religion, as
well as of many other works of high estimation; and every one has heard
of its manufactory of earthenware, termed Delft China.

From Delft, we proceeded in a very large and handsome barge to Rotterdam.
At four o’clock we passed Schiedam, leaving it a mile on our right,
and at five arrived at Rotterdam. It happened to be the day of a fair,
and we had to traverse a great part of the city, through the midst of
a mass of people, before we reached the bath-house hotel, to which we
had been recommended. This house was full of company, but they found us
accommodations in a detached building in the garden.

On making inquiries respecting the conveyances to Antwerp, I found
there were two every day, one by Breda, the other by Bergen-op-Zoom; I
preferred the latter, and secured my place for twenty-five francs.

On entering the common sitting-room of our hotel, I almost fancied myself
transported into an English boarding-house, the party present being all
countrymen or Americans. We retired early to our bed-room, and had the
mortification to find the sheets wringing wet. This is not unfrequently
the case in Holland, where the table linen and napkins are very commonly
sent in perfectly damp; it is no doubt attributable to the humid state of
the atmosphere on the one hand, and the expense of fuel to dry with on
the other. We summoned the chamber-maid, waiter, and master of the inn in
succession, who all endeavoured to convince us that they were perfectly
dry. We had no alternative but to make the best use we could of the
warming-pan; and it is fortunate that we sustained no injury.

My stay at Rotterdam was too brief to enable me to say much about the
city. It is a place of considerable commercial importance, and, in some
respects, has advantages over Amsterdam; as the merchant vessels have
only to come fifteen miles up a fine river, and are able to discharge
their cargoes at the very doors of the warehouses. I was informed, that
it enjoys a more extended trade than either Amsterdam or Antwerp. It is
also considered the handsomest city in Holland, and obtains no little
renown from having been the birth-place of the celebrated Erasmus, whose
statue in bronze, ornaments the city.

On Wednesday, the 22nd of August, I left Rotterdam for Antwerp, at five
in the morning. We were conveyed, in a temporary carriage, to the banks
of a river, which we crossed to the island of Ysselmond, where the
regular diligence was awaiting our arrival. After traversing this island,
we embarked on a flying bridge, and were transported across the Maese to
the island of Voorn; from the opposite side of which we crossed an arm
of the sea, named Holland’s Diep, to Williamstadt, a strong fortified
town, built by the unfortunate William before mentioned, as having been
assassinated at Delft. This place held out successfully against the
French in 1793. After leaving Williamstadt, we crossed a fourth, and then
a fifth river, when we arrived at Steenbergen; a small, but strongly
fortified town, surrounded by double walls and ditches, and distant seven
miles from Bergen-op-Zoom. We reached the latter place at two o’clock
for dinner. This town is only noted for its strong fortifications,
being defended by double walls, with immense ditches, and confirmed by
extensive outworks. I could not avoid a melancholy retrospection of
the unfortunate attack made upon this place, by my brave countrymen in
the late war. We recommenced our journey at three o’clock, and soon
afterwards entered the Netherlands, when the road became so sandy and
heavy, that we could not proceed at a greater rate than a foot’s pace;
when, however, we arrived within three miles of Antwerp, it changed into
a _pavê_, which continued until we reached that town at half after eight
in the evening; when I accompanied an English gentleman, Mr. S⸺, who had
travelled with us all day, to the Hotel d’Angleterre.

As I only rested thirty-six hours in this fine and extensive city, it
would be presumptuous to attempt a description of it. The beauty of the
town, cathedral, and various churches, and the richness of its cabinets
of paintings, and the fine arts, are well known. An academy of painting
has lately been formed, or rather re-established here, under the title of
Rueben’s school.

At the table d’hôte, which was crowded with people of various nations, I
was fortunately placed near one of my countrymen, who, hearing that I had
lately arrived from Italy, entered into conversation with me respecting
some friends, and in particular a cousin of his, whom I had known at
Naples; he afterwards contributed to make the remainder of the day pass
away pleasantly.

He informed me, that Antwerp was not unlikely to regain a considerable
degree of its former commercial importance. It was already vying
with Rotterdam, and was expected to surpass it as a trading town, in
consequence of a law having passed to lower the transit duties, and
which was to take effect in January 1822.

Before retiring early to-bed, I secured my place in the diligence to
Brussels, for the following morning; at which place I proposed to rest
for some time, after so long a series of travelling; during which, in the
course of three months, I had never slept more than four nights in the
same bed; and farther, I was induced to select this place, for my repose,
as I hoped to meet with some old friends there.

We commenced our journey at seven o’clock; about ten we stopped to
change horses at Mechlin, the city so celebrated for its manufacture of
fine lace of that name. The cathedral here is said to be a very grand
structure and well worth seeing. About noon, we arrived at Brussels,
after a journey of twenty-five miles from Antwerp.




CHAP. XXXII.

BRUSSELS, GHENT, OSTEND, AND RETURN TO ENGLAND.


On the recommendation of M. G. Mignon, the French gentleman with whom
I had travelled from Berne to Cologne, and who had arrived in Brussels
the day before myself, I fixed my residence at the Hotel de la Paix, Rue
Violet.

The great anxiety of various countries to become the masters of this
city, may alone be regarded as a strong indication of its importance.
It is extensive, handsomely built in an eligible situation, and its
inhabitants regarded as a polished people; their politeness towards the
English visitors, has, however, been latterly no little tempered by
political or commercial jealousy, arising from our being able to furnish
better and cheaper commodities than they can manufacture; while, at
the same time, they have been subjected to heavy imposts, and deprived
of the advantage of exchanging their productions for French wines and
goods. They do not hesitate to express their preference of the French
government, under which they had been so long subjected, and even the
wish to return to it; indeed their habits and characters assimilate more
with the French than the Dutch, with whom they are now connected.

The manufactories of carpets, lace, &c. carried on at this place, are
well known; few of the former are, however, actually the productions
of this city, but made in a number of the towns around, particularly
Tournay; they are conveyed, however, into the merchants’ stores at this
place, and then come out as real Brussels carpets.

Brussels appears to have had a particular partiality for the number
seven; hence there were formerly seven public fountains; seven principal
streets that centre in the great market-place; seven parish churches;
seven principal noble families; and seven gates of Doric architecture.

There is a canal encircling the town, and forming it into a kind of
island, planted with trees, and which runs to Willibrook, a village on
the Scheldt, at the distance of fifteen miles; along the banks of this
canal lies an excellent road, shaded with four rows of trees on each
side, upon which the ladies of Brussels take the air in their carriages.
The treckschuyts pass by this canal from Brussels to Antwerp, twice every
day.

The great market-place is one of the most beautiful squares in Europe.
One side is occupied by the Stadt-house. The states of Brabant used
formerly to meet in a palace in this square, which was most richly
adorned. In three large rooms the resignation of his empire, by Charles
the Fifth, is wrought in tapestry. The other rooms, which belonged to
this august assembly, were embellished with fine original paintings. In
this square are also situated the halls of the various trading companies
of Brussels, the fronts of which are adorned with exquisite sculpture and
workmanship.

The herb-market is also a fine square, as well as the horse-market or
sablon; both of which are environed by some excellent buildings. The
Place Royal, situated near the palace and park, is an airy situation,
and contains the two principal hotels, the Bellevue, and the Hotel de
Flandres. The museum, and the botanic garden are also situated by this
square; in the former is deposited the cradle of Charles the Fifth, and
the chair in which

    “The Spaniard, when the lust of sway
      Had lost its quickening spell,
    Cast crowns for rosaries away,
      An empire for a cell.”

This museum contains also a number of interesting objects of nature and
art; amongst the former a good collection of minerals, and amongst the
latter, an extensive one of paintings; and which comprises a few valuable
originals.

In company with a friend, Mr. M’M⸺, to whom my warmest acknowledgments
are due for his unceasing attentions in conducting me to, and explaining
its various parts, I made the complete tour of this city along the
ramparts, commencing at the gate of Namur. These ramparts appeared in a
bad state, not calculated for a fashionable promenade; we passed an old
fort with a very few guns upon it, and these certainly not in fighting
order. We did not complete the tour on the first day, but left off at
what was lately named Port Napoleon, but now Port Guillaume; this is a
handsome modern structure.

On the following day we completed our tour, finishing at Port Namur; in
the course of this walk we passed a number of persons employed in making
a boulevard, and building a wall from a depth of six feet to the surface
to support it.

One afternoon we went to examine the environs around the royal palace
of Lacken, and might without much difficulty have been admitted into
the palace itself, had it not been too late in the afternoon; we were
informed, however, that it offered nothing particularly magnificent or
interesting; with its grounds it is enclosed within a wooden fence, which
altogether does not comprise an area of two miles in circumference,
certainly not an extensive domain for a royal residence, in the
neighbourhood of so fine a city.

The churches at Brussels are very fine, particularly that of St.
Gudulo, which is a magnificent building with two steeples. There are
two places of worship, where the English service is performed in an
impressive manner, by their respective preachers; the one the church of
St. Augustine, for morning, the other a chapel in the Place Royal, for
evening service.

Brussels is almost wholly supplied with firing, from the forest of
Soignè, which covers a tract of sixteen or seventeen thousand acres of
land, one sixtieth part of which is allowed to be cut down annually, and
thus a constant supply ensured.

Lodgings and all kinds of provision are very reasonable, but French wines
now comparatively dear. We one day went to a coach-maker’s, where we
saw vehicles of every description, which my friend on examining into,
declared were as well got up as they generally are in England, and at
about two-thirds of the customary English prices. We visited also the
lace manufactories, where my companion made some purchases, but I did not
choose to run the risk of being laughed at, for taking back the produce
of my own country, which, I am assured, is now frequently put off as the
manufacture of Flanders.

One evening I went to the larger theatre, with Mr. S⸺, for the express
purpose of hearing the celebrated Mademoiselle Mars, in the character
of the Femme Colère in the play of that name. I thought the piece very
inferior, and to comprise common place incidents, and trifling dialogues.
The plot is founded upon the stratagem of a peaceable kind of husband, to
quell the turbulent temper of his wife, and who succeeds in convincing
her of her folly, by shewing the impropriety of such conduct in himself;
for this purpose, on one occasion, when she has been enraged at her
waiting-maid, he throws himself into a still greater passion; upsets the
tables, chairs, and every thing that comes in his way; she hears, sees,
and is astonished at his violence, becoming proportionately tame, as
his rage increases, and at length convinced of her error, determines to
reform.

The stage of this theatre I thought not sufficiently advanced towards the
audience, the greater part of the sound appearing to be retained upon it.

One day, amongst other amusements in the suburbs, I was present at that
of shooting the popinjay, which consists in placing the figure of a bird
at the top of a long pole, and shooting at it with bows and arrows; the
person who succeeds in displacing the mark, is remunerated with a gold or
silver watch, or whatever prize may be contended for; it did not appear,
however, an easy matter to effect this, as it was four o’clock when we
were there, and they had been engaged the whole day, without being able
to remove the popinjay.

During my stay at Brussels, I discovered very few symptoms of gaiety,
although the royal family were at the time resident. The English families
were many of them gone to different bathing places. I had, however,
the gratification of finding there my friend, Admiral D⸺, whose great
condescension and hospitality, demand my warmest acknowledgments, and
have left an indelible impression of gratitude and esteem; nor can I
forget the kind attentions of his friend Mr. P. H⸺.

On the 10th of September, I received a letter from my friend C⸺, dated at
the port of Lubec, describing his progress towards St. Petersburg, and
which gave me unfeigned pleasure.

Being desirous of reaching England, before the equinoctial gales might
come on, on the 12th of September I took my place for Ghent, in one of
the many coaches that go daily to that city; after an early dinner, I
left Brussels at half past two o’clock, occupying the same seat with an
English gentleman and his dog; the middle seat was taken up by a Dutch
captain, from Batavia, with a parrot and dog; while a pair of monkies
belonging to him, enjoyed the fresh air on the roof, and amused the
people as they passed along. We arrived at the fine city of Ghent about
half past eight o’clock, and, at the recommendation of Admiral D⸺, I went
to the Hotel de Vienne, in the _merché au blê_, where, in consequence
of using his name, I was treated with particular attention, and charged
reasonably for very superior accommodations.

This city derives no little of its celebrity from having been the
birth-place of Charles the Fifth, as well as our John of Gaunt, duke of
Lancaster, and son of Edward the Third.

We were now in what was formerly called Flanders, the Austrians
possessing the larger part with this city for their capital; the French,
the south-west, comprising Lisle and Dunkirk; and the Dutch, the
north-east, with the strong fortress of Sluys.

On the following morning we breakfasted at seven o’clock, and, after
taking a short walk into the town, set off for the barge to Bruges,
which lay at a considerable distance from the hotel, and starts at nine
o’clock in the morning. The day was unfavourable; it blew hard, and we
had frequent showers of rain; however, we were better situated for these
gales than had we been in the packet midway between Ostend and Margate.
Between twelve and one o’clock, a better dinner was placed before us,
than I had met with at any table d’hôte in France, Germany, or the Low
Countries, and the wine was universally praised. I certainly had as good
a pint of Burgundy as I had met with on the continent, for which, with my
dinner, and the fare for thirty miles’ journey, including the conveyance
of baggage, I was only charged seven francs and a half. Our dinner
concluded with a magnificent dessert; we had more baskets of peaches than
we could make use of, grapes (the first I had met with this season), and
abundance of the more common fruits. We arrived at Bruges at half-past
three, and, without tarrying, immediately traversed the city to the barge
for Ostend, on a canal at the opposite side of it. All I know of this
place is, that we walked through the town for nearly two miles before we
reached the boat.

Our barge from Bruges, as well as our party, was much smaller than the
one we had travelled with from Ghent; soon after seven o’clock we arrived
at Sas van Ghent, a small village, about a mile from Ostend, where we
rested a few minutes, after which we proceeded into the town, when
about eight o’clock I reached the Wellington hotel, an inn conveniently
situated for the custom-house, and the packets sailing to and from
England, and which has been established by an Englishman, lately the head
waiter from Nicholson’s hotel.

On our arrival at Ostend we found two packets intending to sail for
England, a private one for Margate and London, on the following day,
and a government one for Dover on the succeeding day to that; those to
whom time is of importance, however, unless a vessel is on the point of
sailing from hence, and the wind favourable, will do well to take the
barge to Dunkirk, and travel from that place to Calais by the diligence.

On the Friday the wind was unfavourable, and we had nothing to do but
amuse ourselves as we pleased; in the morning we walked about the town,
and in the evening visited again the village of Sas van Ghent, with the
object of examining Paren’s museum, which, as the sole collection of a
humble individual, the proprietor of a small inn at this place, is by no
means contemptible. He had great variety of land and sea animals, several
of the former coming under the head of _lusus naturæ_. No remuneration
is expected for seeing his curiosities; but we could not do less than
take refreshment at his house of business; and I presented him with a
small piece of Mosaic work which I had brought from Rome, with which
he appeared highly pleased, never having seen any before. On returning
to our hotel we found the captain intending to sail at midnight, and
therefore we did not go to-bed until we ascertained that he had abandoned
this intention.

On Saturday the morning was delightful, and the wind favourable; at one
o’clock, a.m. we took leave of the town and harbour of Ostend, in the
Fox packet, commanded by Captain Fox, with whom I engaged to be landed
at Margate. The Dover packet immediately followed, but soon steered a
more westerly course. The wind, at first fresh, gradually decreased until
midnight, when it became calm, and the weather foggy. At day-break a
slight breeze sprung up; at eleven o’clock the fog cleared off; we found
ourselves close under the North Foreland; and at twelve myself and a few
other passengers were put on board a lugger, which soon landed us upon
the pier of Margate.

The indescribable delight with which I hailed my native land, after so
long an absence, was not a little enhanced by the general improvement my
health had experienced; the restoration of which, had formed one of my
leading motives for undertaking the journey.

On a retrospective view of the various incidents and circumstances to
which I had been exposed, I found no reason to think that my tour had
been defective in interest, or that I had returned without commensurate
advantages. Amongst other results, I felt enabled to contrast the
advantages of our happy isle, with the less substantial comforts,
and more specious characters, of its continential neighbours, and to
appreciate its superiority; an inference, which, should it be deemed
erroneous or unphilosophical, I am proud to attribute to that spirit
of patriotism, which ought to pervade every human bosom, and like the
magnetic influence, incline its affections to their native pole.

    “Such is the patriot’s boast! where’er we roam,
    His first, best country, ever is at home.”

FINIS.

Printed by W. WOODCOCK, St. Helena Place, Spa Fields.