CHAPTER XXVI.
TIVOLI—COUNTRY EXCURSIONS—CICILIANO—HOSPITALITY OF THE MOUNTAINEERS—THE PORTA SAN LORENZO—VISIT TO THE GOVERNOR—ANOTHER START NORTHWARD—FLORENCE—THE UFFIZII—S——, AND HIS HEAD OF VELASQUEZ—THE FLOOD OF THE ARNO—MR. M.—LORD D.—UNEXPECTED SUMMONS—PISA—LEGHORN—GENOA—THE “DILIGENCE”—ALESSANDRIA—TURIN—THE RAILWAY DEPUTATION—EXPEDITION TO THE MONT CENIS—SUSA—BARDONECHE—MY FRIEND B.’S MOUNTAIN RAMBLE—SUCCESSFUL “JODELN”—THE VALLEY OF THE DORA SUSA—DEPARTURE FROM TURIN—CONCLUSION.
TIVOLI—COUNTRY EXCURSIONS—CICILIANO—HOSPITALITY OF THE MOUNTAINEERS—THE PORTA SAN LORENZO—VISIT TO THE GOVERNOR—ANOTHER START NORTHWARD—FLORENCE—THE UFFIZII—S——, AND HIS HEAD OF VELASQUEZ—THE FLOOD OF THE ARNO—MR. M.—LORD D.—UNEXPECTED SUMMONS—PISA—LEGHORN—GENOA—THE “DILIGENCE”—ALESSANDRIA—TURIN—THE RAILWAY DEPUTATION—EXPEDITION TO THE MONT CENIS—SUSA—BARDONECHE—MY FRIEND B.’S MOUNTAIN RAMBLE—SUCCESSFUL “JODELN”—THE VALLEY OF THE DORA SUSA—DEPARTURE FROM TURIN—CONCLUSION.
The “Holy Week” and its ceremonies concluded, and Raven having left for Marseilles on his way homewards, a few of us made up a party for Tivoli. Some rode, while the rest, preferring the dreary march over the Campagna, were overtaken by a Roman shower, which thoroughly soaked them to the skin before they reached the appointed rendezvous at Salvi’s hotel. We had intended to devote the next day to a walk as far as Vicovaro, but having chosen a most unfortunate time for our excursion, had got only about three-fourths of the way there, when such a drencher poured down upon us, whilst in a totally unsheltered part of the road, thatwe were compelled to take refuge in a little straw wine-house, about as big as a hay-cock, which was already occupied by the family of the proprietor, half-a-dozen surly dogs, and myriads of fleas. Amusing ourselves by transferring the faces of the children to our sketch-books, we remained until an opening in the black clouds above promised some abatement of the rain, and then, sallying forth, made a quick march back to the hotel, where a roaring fire welcomed us very opportunely. In the evening, our little party was enlivened by a visit from Count H. le Grice and Captain D——, who had for some months been enjoying the retirement of the Palazzo Santa Croce. The latter amused us with some exciting stories of a long campaign n the Peninsula, and proposed, if the morrow should prove more propitious, a donkey-excursion to the distant village of Ciciliano. We therefore ordered a number of animals to be in readiness, and finding, when we arose, that the clouds of the preceding day had entirely disappeared, we made a start after breakfast, and had a delightful, though somewhat wearying ride, to the little village, which lies embosomed among the mountains, at a considerable elevation above the valley through which our road had led us.
The scenery is of a wild and charming character, and it is extraordinary that these secluded regions are not more often visited by those who profess to travel in search of the picturesque. Toiling up the hill, which conducted us to the quaint little town, we halted before the best-looking house therein, and deposited at the door a mule-load of brocoli and lemons, which we intended as an offering to the padrone, who was personally known to some of our party. The good man was absent on business in a neighbouring village, but his wife, an agreeable and most intelligent-looking woman, gave us a hearty welcome, cooked us a large dish of home-made sausages, and supplied us with wine and cheesead libitum. We staid but an hour or two, to recruit ourselves and the tired mules, but our kind hostess, with that liberality which distinguishes the peasants of the Appenines, had already prepared our beds and lamps, and would scarcely hear of our going away the same day. In order, too, that we might the more effectually enjoy ourselves, the kind creature had gathered about her all the rural beauty of Ciciliano, and one or two dark-looking fellows, with their guitars, in the hope of tempting us with an evening dance, and the excitement of a genuineSaltarello. It would be difficult to say whether they or we were themore disappointed, but we had made up our minds to return, and feeling also that the unexpected intrusion of a party of seven would be taxing her hospitality too severely, we saddled our mules and bade themaddio. The next morning broke so temptingly, that we lounged it away at the Falls, whose cool grots and rushing waters were seldom enjoyed to greater advantage.
As I had ridden out to Tivoli, I varied the pleasures of the excursion by walking home. My friend Flake proved a most agreeable companion, and we walked and talked to such good purpose, that the weary length of road over the campagna was almost unnoticed, saving that I had become so lame, that I was obliged to take off one boot and suspend it by a string over my shoulder. At length we reached the Porta San Lorenzo, through which we were quietly proceeding, when some functionary, emerging from a chamber in the wall, arrested our farther progress by demanding our passports. We had none; and ourcarte di sicurezzawere safe in our respective drawers where we had left them. We were therefore detained, and presently discovered that nothing short of a visit to the Governor of Rome would satisfy the officious gate-keeper. The good man evidently flattered himself that our seedy artistical garb disguised apair of very dangerous foreigners, and having invested himself in a suitable habit, he appropriated an arm of each of us, and strode forward with becoming importance towards the church of Santa Maria Maggiore. Flake and I, however, were foot-sore and weary, and not relishing theeclatof being marched through the streets in the clutch of a dirty gate-keeper, we chartered the first empty coach that came in our way, and treated our body-guard with a ride to the “Polizia.” The Governor of Rome was, like other reasonable men, at his dinner; but a good-natured clerk who had eatenhistwo hours before, referred to his books, and finding that our names were duly inscribed therein, and that had we not forgotten our papers we should have been perfectlyen regle, he dismissed us with many apologies for the inconvenience we had experienced, and bestowing a few words of approval on our friend of the gate, told him to get back as fast as he could to his duties.
W. now took it into his head to make a sudden start for the north, and proposed that I should accompany him. I had certainly not intended quitting Rome so early in the spring, but my friend was an invalid, and having but little knowledge of Italian, was hardly in a condition to trust himself to the tender mercies of uncouth Vetturiniand exacting landlords. Under these circumstances I made up my mind to go with him, and after some little search, met with a light britzka and pair of horses, belonging to a cabman of Florence, who agreed to deposit us safe and sound in that city within four days from the time of starting, for a sum of fifty scudi, including beds, and two substantial daily meals.
I had now to bid a second adieu to my Roman friends, and not knowing how far I might be induced to accompany W., left the few heavy valuables I possessed in the care of a kind banker in the Condotti, taking with me such only as a long journey might render necessary. Travelling by way of Perugia, we reached Florence by easy stages, and located ourselves at the “Quatre Nations,” from whence I shortly removed to the house of the Signor Vital, on the Lung’ Arno, with whom I had been long acquainted. Here I staid two weeks or more, copying in the Uffizii and Pitti galleries, to which the access is sufficiently easy. In the former I made acquaintance with S——, an English artist, who was busily copying a head by Velasquez. Whether it was that he soon after got tired of his subject, or became disgusted with his production, he did not tell me, but I was much astonished one day, on paying my usual visitto his part of the gallery, to find him in the act of finishing off his study with a pair of prodigiously black eyes, which stared at me from the canvas with a fixedness that was excessively absurd. Remonstrance was useless. Adding two spots of white, which served to perfect the vagary, S—— turned his picture to the wall, where we left it. Some days afterwards, I happened to be in that division of the gallery, when it was undergoing the weekly visit of the sweeping brush. The headcustode, who would suffer none but himself to touch such pictures as were in progress, was regarding the copy of Velasquez with a stare almost as intense as that which had been imparted to it by S——. In another moment, he had summoned the whole of his underlings; but to no purpose—they one and all pleaded innocent of the foul trick upon the Signor Inglese. The poor custode was in despair, and was wringing his hands and tearing his wig in anticipation of the dismissal which would inevitably follow S——’s exposure of the black eyes, when that gentleman himself entered the gallery, and immediately relieved the old man’s anxiety by adding a nose and mouth to match, and packing up his painting apparatus.
At Florence I met with my friend Edward M——y,who had gained so deserved a popularity by his courageous exploits in the flood which caused so much damage in 1845, when the Arno, swollen to a mighty torrent by the rains which poured into it from the mountains, encroached beyond its wonted bounds, and sweeping down the valley with irresistible rapidity, carried all before it. For days did the waters tear along, bearing upon their bosom the spoils of many a goodly homestal. Cattle and trees, chairs, tables, beds, pianofortes, and every possible description of household furniture, nay, the very body of the inmates themselves, were carried away by the ruthless torrent, which converted the streets of Florence into canals, and rose in some of the squares to a height of more than six feet. M——y was at this time living in the Palazzo P——, in the Borgo dei Greci, and on the morning of the first day of the flood was awakened by his landlady, who entered his room, wailing and beating her hands in a state of frightful agitation. It was not without difficulty that M——y managed to elicit that something unusually terrible had taken place out of doors, but in going to the window, he saw quite sufficient to enlighten him completely. A horse, nearly exhausted, was swimming about in the street below, among a quantity of flasks, barrels, and other commodities, which had floatedfrom out the cellars. The good woman now gave him to understand that her son had left the house early in the morning, and was certainly drowned; but whilst M——y was in the act of assuming a pair of light summer trousers, a message was passed along the adjacent houses to the effect that the young man was on a plank at some distance off, and in imminent peril of being carried into the Arno. M——y was now at the steps of the palace, where several people were congregated. One old woman begged him “per l’amore della Madonna,” and as he valued his life, not to venture; but the afflicted mother stood by, and our friend did not hesitate a second. Being a man of Herculean frame, and possessed of incredible strength, he was able, whilst he touched terra-firma, to stem the force of the current with his head and shoulders above the water, and having cautiously waded to the young man, whose hold upon the plank was becoming every moment more feeble, he stretched forth his arm and rescued him.
This was not the only one whose life M——y was the providential means of saving, but the accounts I heard respecting the others were so varied, that I shall not farther allude to them. I often begged him to give me the particulars, but so uniformly averse was he to expatiate uponhis own exploits, that I at last gave it up as a bad job.
Perhaps one of the most daring feats related in connection with this flood, was that performed by Lord D. This nobleman had engaged to dine with the Honourable C—— L——, and both occupied palaces in the same street, though at considerable distance from each other. The waters were too deep to allow of wading, and the act of swimming was rendered hazardous from the rapidity with which the torrent was raging. But his word had been passed, and the hour fixed for dinner having nearly arrived, his lordship unhesitatingly committed himself to the flood, and by making a rush from one window to the other, and clinging to the iron work with which almost all were furnished, succeeded in gaining the hotel of his friend, whose family he astonished in no small degree, by suddenly presenting himself at the first-floor window, just as they were about to sit down to table. Having borrowed a dry suit, Lord D., who evidently was not to be easily discouraged by trifles, enjoyed his dinner, and swam back again to his own domicile.
I had scarce been a fortnight at the house of the Signor Vital, when the plans which I had formed for my future guidance, were suddenly knocked on the head by the receiptof a letter inviting me immediately northward, to meet a deputation of railway potentates, among whom were one or two personal acquaintance of my own. These gentlemen, armed with powers to treat, and unfathomable purses, were invading Italy, fraught with a scheme which would defy the very Alps, and make footballs of the Appenines. The partial completion of the Lombardo-Venetian trunk, had already whetted the appetites of the Austrians, who were free to receive and take fire at the scintillations of the great railway firework which had recently exploded in Britain, and had scattered its sparks over the whole of the north of Italy, some blowing over into gentle Tuscany, whilsta very fewfell into the dominions of the Pope. Although somewhat loth to close my colour box, in the uncertain expectation of having once more to shoulder a theodolite, I felt that it would be impolitic to refuse an invitation which had been extended through the interest of my friends, and might lead to important results.
I therefore once more packed up my portmanteau, and as W. was intending to proceed to Genoa, which would be all on my way to Turin, we hired a carriage for Pisa, and leaving Florence at ten at night, changed horses three times, and at six in the morning arrived at the birth-place ofGalileo. We put up at a little inn near to the railway by which we were to reach Leghorn, and hastily dispatching our breakfast, walked out in a heavy rain to see the leaning tower or Campanile, and other interesting objects in its neighbourhood. A priest conducted us into the Baptistery, a circular building standing by itself, with a spacious and lofty dome. Here the good man, who possessed a rich and powerful voice, chanted a few verses, in order that we might hear the reverberation caused by the peculiar structure of the cupola, and almost startled us by the effect he produced. The Campo Santo is close by, and its covered galleries abound with frescoes and other valuable works of art, much injured by time. The earth in this burial-place is said to have been brought from Calvary by the Pisans, on their return from a crusade, and the name ofCampo Santo, applied to all Italian cemeteries, probably owes its origin to this circumstance.
A railway trip of half-an-hour’s duration, brought us to Leghorn, where we engaged berths for Genoa. Repairing on board the steam vessel, we found, to our chagrin, that the rain which had prevented the discharge of her cargo, would be the cause of our staying a day in this dirty sea-port. We had, therefore, to pocket our soap and toothbrushes,and secure beds at a little hotel contiguous to the shore, passing the remainder of the wet and dismal day in strolling through the town, and poking about in the ware-room of Jewish merchants.
Arrived at Genoa, and having obtained pratique, we passed through the strict formalities of its custom-house, and located ourselves at the “Croce di Malta.” Being in expectation of hearing something decisive from my friend of the railway deputation, respecting the whereabouts of the party, I hastened to the post-office, but met with no success. Having taken every precaution respecting the due forwarding of any letters from Florence, I made up my mind to wait patiently in Genoa until some intelligence might reach me.
I had been six days at the “Croce,” when the waiter handed me a letter. It was from W——m, informing me that the parties were at Turin, and that I might there make sure of finding them. By half-past two o’clock I had taken my seat in the coupé of thediligence, between a Spaniard and a pretty Turinese lady, and my friend W. having wished mebon voyage, I was soon rattling away towards Alessandria, passing over the blood-stained plains of Marengo, where fell the brave Dessaix. We reached that city at ten at night. Some of the passengers partook of a hearty supperwhich was in readiness for them, but my fair fellow-traveller, who seemed to think that a few sweets and a cup of hot coffee would suit her better, at so late an hour, than a heavy meal, possessed herself of my arm in a way as unceremonious as it was agreeable, and hurried me off to a brilliant café in the square, where we passed one of the two hours which the conducteur had informed me must elapse before the arrival of the branch mail from Tortona.
At eight the next morning, we reached the Sardinian capital. On repairing to the “Hotel de l’Europe,” I was ushered by a loquacious waiter into the bedroom of a gentleman, who, being in the act of donning hiscorazza, was not a little surprised, as his head emerged slowly and carefully from out the well-starched front, to see a dusty fellow in a slouched hat disappearing with a carpet bag. As I found I had failed to escape his observation, I stammered an apology in my very best Italian, which I found provocative of nothing beyond a stare and an ejaculatory comment in sound English upon my impudence. This latter was enough for me; the mistake was speedily explained, and in another minute I had shaken hands with W——m, who occupied an inner apartment. In the breakfast-room I was introduced to the rest, and a moreagreeable travelling party it certainly had never been my lot to fall in with. It was enlivened moreover by the presence of several ladies, whose charming society contrasted most pleasantly with the dull and prosy discussions of the rooms above, in which the business of the deputation was carried on.
In submitting these sketches to the world, it forms no part of my intention to detail the extraordinary efforts made by this body of gentlemen, to carry out the grand object which had led them to Italy, neither would it become me to describe the movements of a party by whom I was only regarded in the light of a visitor, and in no other way identified. But as an eye-witness to the unwearied exertions made by the well-known leaders of that deputation, in the face of obstacles, which at the very outset would have deterred less energetic men, Imaybe allowed to express my own admiration of the clear-headed tact which characterized their proceedings, and my firm conviction that their undertaking would have been crowned with the most complete success, had the exchequers of certain of the Italian states not been so much upon a par with the short-sighted policy of their rulers.
About a week after my arrival in Turin, I was invited to accompanyMr.B——e, on a little engineering expeditionto the Mont Cenis. Fortified with an order from Marina, the Minister of the Interior, and furnished with some provisions, and a change or two of linen, we left the hotel at one o’clock, with a light carriage and pair of posters, reaching the town of Susa about an hour before dusk. We employed this interval in a walk to Jailliéres, a romantic little village commanding a view of the valley of the Dora Susa, and enabling B——e to chalk out a route for the ensuing day.
The next morning we mounted a couple of strong mules, and escorted by an intelligent guide, took our course up the Susa Valley, B——e, plan in hand, making his observations by the way, with a view to discover the most practicable course for a line of railway through or over some portion of the Cenis. We halted for an hour at the town of Exilés, where the valley, at that point very narrow, is guarded by a strong fort. From hence the views, both up and down the course of the torrent, are wild and beautiful. Farther on, at a little place called Oulx, the road diverges into two branches, that to the south leading through the valley of the Dora to Cesanno, and over the ridge to the French frontier, the other following the course of the Dora Susa stream to its rise under the Col de Frejus. This latterwas our road. On leaving Oulx, the valley widens into an extensive plain: a stony bridle path, at one time lost in the stream, and at another skirting the edge of a precipice, formed by the rushing of the waters, led us through several pretty little villages to Bardoneche.
I arrived here alone, my companion having left me a couple of hours before, to explore another valley, whose direction he imagined might be favourable to his views. The guide conducted me to a curious old tumble-down sort of house, where an obliging individual, acting in the various capacities of landlord, waiter, chambermaid, ostler, boots and cook, set before me the knuckle-end of a cold leg of mutton, a piece of cream cheese, and a yard of Genoese bread. I made a hearty dinner, though I should have enjoyed my meal much more had B——e not been absent. Having sat a long while solus, I strolled away in the direction by which I had arrived. It was now dark, and fearing that my companion might have lost his way in the mountains, I was beginning to feel some alarm for his safety. Having walked upwards of a mile, I stopped to listen: not a sound, save the rippling of the Dora Susa over its broad and pebbly bed. At last I bethought myself that ajodelnmight perhaps be of service. I managed soloud a one, that it almost startled me, but instead of being answered, as I fondly imagined it might have been, by B——e, it was responded to in one quarter by a series of echoes so beautifully perfect, that I tried it over and over again. Listening to the sounds as they died away in the far distance, I detected one which I felt sure was none of my own raising, and I had travelled too far not to know that an Irish echo is never heard south-east of Skibbereen. I listened again, and this time the sound was so distinct, that I was convinced it came from my friend. Walking onwards, I soon had the satisfaction of seeing him emerge from the Dora Susa, which it appeared he had preferred to wade, rather than make a wide detour along its banks. He had, as I had supposed, lost his way, and after descending from a lofty part of the mountain, over a tract of snow, which had wetted him nearly up to his middle, completed the ducking by a stroll after dusk in the channel of the torrent.
On returning to our quaint hostelrie, we discussed with the guides the possibility of crossing the Col de Frejus, whose head was still covered with a mantle of deep snow. Although quite ready to risk it with us, they dissuaded us from the attempt, on the ground of our being the first toventure, besides that the undertaking was by no means easy, and as we were both too tired to like the idea of turning out of bed at three in the morning, which would have been necessary to insure a frozen surface on the snow, we gave up the idea of taking a peep into France, and decided on a return to Susa.
We were about starting, after an early breakfast, when our landlord insisted upon showing us the new church, a mean little white-washed building, of the most primitive description, although possibly considered by the unsophisticated Bardonecchians as a gorgeous temple. The good man appeared much flattered by our praises of its architectural merits, and accompanied us beyond the precincts of the village. I became so tired of riding, that I got off my mule to walk, reaching Oulx long before my companions, and making acquaintance on the road with a chatty mountaineer, who was on his way to the town to make some purchases. He got on with my wine-flask very much better than I with his patois, which was nearly unintelligible. The ride to Susa was very charming, our guides striking into a bye-path which skirted the Dora, and disclosed occasional glimpses of most romantic scenery. On reaching the inn, I found a letter from W—m, recalling me immediately to Turin, andI was obliged to leave my companion to prosecute his researches alone, whilst I took a place in the next vettura for that city.
My sudden recall had arisen, it appeared, in consequence of a determination on the part of my friends at Turin, to visit other states through which the course of the proposed line lay. And here I may draw my somewhat unconnected narrative to a conclusion. It would be needless to conduct the reader a second time to Ancona, Florence, and Rome, at which last-mentioned city we made a stay of a fortnight, to effect certain arrangements with the late Pope, and the Prince Torlonia, by whom we were courteously received. From hence a party of us made a sally to Naples and Leghorn, taking the steamer to Marseilles, and travelling night and day to Paris in an open britska. Lingering a month or two in the French capital, I returned to England in the spring, after an absence of somewhat more than three years.
THE END.
Richard Barrett, Printer, 13, Mark Lane, London.