Caserta--Costume of the peasants--Rome--Piazza del Popolo--Dogana--
St. Peter's--Palaces--Borghese, Barberini, Colonna, etc.--Churches--
Ancient Rome--The Colliseum--Departure for Florence--Bad weather--
Picturesque scenery--Siena--Florence--Cathedral and palaces--
Departure from Florence--Bologna--Ferrara--Conclusion.
November 7th.
I travelled by the mail-carriage. By seven in the morning we were
at Caserta, and an hour later at Capua, a pretty bustling town on
the banks of a river. Our road was most picturesque; we drove among
vineyards and gardens through the midst of a lovely plain. On the
right were mountains, increasing in number as we proceeded, and
imparting a rich variety to the landscape. At noon we halted before
a lovely inn. From this point the country increases in beauty at
every step. The heights are strikingly fertile, and in the valley
an excellent road winds amid pleasant gardens. The mountains
frequently seem to approach as though about to form an impenetrable
pass; while ruins crown the summits of the rocks, and give a
romantic appearance to the whole. At about three o'clock we reached
the little town of Jeromania, lying in the midst of vegetable-
gardens. Above this town the handsome convent of Monte Cassino
stands on a rock, and in its neighbourhood we notice the ruins of an
amphitheatre.
To-day the weather was not in the least Italian, being, on the
contrary, gloomy and rough, as we generally find it in Austria at
the same season of the year. Yesterday it was so cold at Naples
that Mount Vesuvius was covered with snow during several hours.
The dress of the peasants in these regions is of a more national
character than I had yet found it. The women wear short and scanty
petticoats of blue or red cloth, tight-fitting bodices, and gaily-
striped aprons. Their head-dress consists of a white handkerchief,
with a second above it folded in a square form. The men look like
robbers; with their long dark-blue or brown cloaks, in which they
wrap themselves so closely that it is difficult to get a glimpse of
their faces, and their steeple-crowned black hats, they quite
resemble the pictures of the bandits in the Abruzzi. They glide
about in so spectral a manner, and eye travellers with such a
sinister look, that I almost became uncomfortable.
From Jeromania we had still a few miles to travel until we entered
the Roman territory near Ceprano.
In Naples, and in fact throughout the whole of Italy, the passports
are continually called for,--a great annoyance to the traveller. In
the course of to-day my passport was "vise" five times, making once
in every little town through which we had passed.
It was our fortune at Ceprano to lodge with a very cheating host.
In the evening, when I inquired the price of a bedroom and
breakfast, they told me a bed would cost two pauls, and breakfast
half a paul; but when I came to pay, the host asked three pauls for
my bed-room, and another for a cup of the worst coffee I have ever
drunk; and the whole company was subjected to the same extortion.
We expostulated and complained, but were at length compelled to
comply with the demand.
November 8th.
The landscape remains the same, but the appearance of the towns and
villages is not nearly so neat and pretty as in the Neapolitan
domain. The costume of the peasants is like that worn by the people
whom we met yesterday, excepting that the women have a stiff
stomacher, fastened with a red lace, instead of the spencer. The
dress of the men consists of short knee-breeches, brown stockings,
heavy shoes, and a jacket of some dark colour. Some wear, in
addition to this, a red waistcoat, and a green sash round the waist.
All wear the conical hat. In cold weather the dark bandit's cloak
is also seen.
ROME.
As we approach Rome the country becomes more and more barren; the
mountains recede, and the extended plains have a desert,
uncultivated look. Towns and villages become so thinly scattered,
that it seems as though the whole region were depopulated. The road
is rather narrow, and as the country is in many places exceedingly
marshy, a great portion of it has been paved. For many miles before
we enter Rome we do not pass a single town or village. At length,
some three hours before we reach the city, the dome of St. Peter's
is seen looming in the distance; one church after another appears,
and at length the whole city lies spread before us.
Many ruins of aqueducts and buildings of every kind shewed at every
step what treasures of the past here awaited us. I was particularly
pleased with the old town-gate Lateran, by which we entered.
It was already quite dark when we reached the Dogana. I at once
betook myself to my room and retired to rest.
I remained a fortnight at Rome, and walked about the streets from
morning till night. I visited St. Peter's almost every day, and
went to the Vatican several times.
All the squares in Rome (and there are a great many) are decorated
with fountains, and still more frequently with obelisks. The finest
is the Piazza del Popolo. To the right rises the terrace-hill
Picino, rich in pillars, statues, fountains, and other ornaments,--a
favourite walk of the citizens. On this hill, which is arranged
after the manner of a beautiful garden, we have a splendid view.
The city of Rome here appears to much greater advantage than when we
approach it from the direction of Naples. We can see the whole town
at one glance, with the yellow Tiber flowing through the midst, and
a vast plain all around. The background is closed by beautiful
mountain-ranges, with villas, little towns, and cottages on the
declivities. But I missed one feature, to which I had become so
accustomed that the most beautiful view appeared incomplete without
it--the sea. To make up for this drawback, we here encounter
wherever we walk such a number of ruins, that we soon become
forgetful of all around us, and live only in the past.
The Piazza del Popolo forms the termination of the three principal
streets in Rome; on the largest and finest of these, the Corso, many
palaces are to be seen.
The splendid post-office, of white marble, rises on the Colonna
square. Two clocks are erected on this building; one with our dial,
one with the Italian. At night both are illuminated,--a very useful
as well as an ornamental arrangement. The ancient column of
Antoninus also stands in this square.
The facade of the Dogana boasts some pillars from the temple of
Antonius Pius.
The objects I have just enumerated struck me particularly as I
wended my way to St. Peter's. I cannot describe how deeply I was
impressed by the sight of this colossal structure. I need only
state the fact, that on the first day I entered the cathedral at
nine in the morning, and did not emerge from its gates until three
in the afternoon.
I sat down before the pictures in mosaic, underneath the huge dome
and the canopy; then I stood before the statues and monuments, and
could only gaze in wonder at every thing.
The expense of building and decorating this church is said to have
amounted to 45,852,000 dollars. It occupies the site of Nero's
circus. Two arcades, with four rows of pillars and ninety-six
statues, surround the square leading to the church.
The facade of St. Peter's is decorated with Corinthian pillars, and
on its parapet stand statues fifty-two feet in height.
The entrance is so crowded with statues, carved work, and gilding,
that several hours may be spent in examining its wonders. The
traveller's attention is particularly attracted by the gigantic
gates of bronze.
I cannot adequately describe the splendour of the interior, nor have
I seen any thing with which I could compare it.
The most beautiful mosaics, monuments, statues, carvings in bronze,
gilded ornaments, in short every thing that art can produce, are
here to be found in the highest perfection. Oil-paintings alone are
excluded. Every thing here is in mosaic; even the cupola displays
mosaic work instead of the usual fresco-paintings. Immense statues
of white marble occupy the niches.
Beneath the cupola, the finest portion of the building, stands the
great altar, at which none but the Pope may read mass. Over this
altar extends a giant canopy of bronze, with spiral pillars richly
decorated with arabesques. The weight of metal used in its
construction was 186,392 pounds, and the cost of the gold for
gilding was 40,000 dollars; the entire canopy is worth above 150,000
dollars. The cupola was executed by Michael Angelo; it rests on
four massive pillars, each of them furnished with a balcony. In the
interior of these pillars chapels are constructed, where the chief
relics are kept, and only displayed to the people from the balcony
at particular times. I was in the church at the time when the
handkerchief which wiped the drops of agony from our Lord's brow,
and a piece of the true cross, were shewn.
The pulpit stands in a very elevated position, and was executed in
bronze by Bernini; 219,161 pounds of metal, and 172,000 dollars,
were spent upon its construction. In the interior is concealed the
wooden pulpit from which St. Peter preached; and immediately beside
this we find a pillar of white marble, said to have belonged to
Solomon's temple at Jerusalem.
The lions on the monument of Clement XIII., by Canova, are
considered the finest that were ever sculptured.
I was fortunate enough to penetrate into the catacombs of St.
Peter's, a favour which women rarely obtain, and which I only owed
to my having been a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. These catacombs
consist of handsome passages and pillars of masonry, which do not,
however, exceed eight or nine feet in height. A number of
sarcophagi, containing the remains of emperors and popes, are here
deposited.
The roof of St. Peter's covers an immense area, and is divided into
a number of cupolas, chambers, and buildings. A fountain of running
water is even found here. From this roof we have a splendid view as
far as the sea and the Apennines; we can descry the entire Vatican,
which adjoins the church, as well as the Pope's gardens.
I ascended to the ball in the great cupola, where there is nothing
to be seen, as there is not the slightest opening, much less a
window, left in it. Nothing is to be gained by mounting into this
dark narrow receptacle but the glory of being able to say, "I have
been there!" It is far more interesting to look down from the
windows and galleries of the great cupola into the body of the
church itself; for then we can estimate the grandeur of the colossal
building, and the people who walk about beneath appear like dwarfs.
Two noble fountains deck the square in front of St. Peter's, and in
the midst towers a magnificent obelisk from Heliopolis, said to
weigh 992,789 pounds. Near this obelisk are two slabs, by standing
on either of which we can see all the rows of columns melted as it
were into one.
My journey to Jerusalem also obtained for me an audience of the
Pope. His Holiness received me in a great hall adjoining the
Sixtine Chapel. Considering his great age of seventy-eight years,
the Pope has still a noble presence and most amiable manners. He
asked me some questions, gave me his blessing, and permitted me at
parting to kiss the embroidered slipper.
My second walk was to the Vatican. Here I saw the immense halls of
Raphael, the staircases of Bramante and Bernini, and the Sixtine
Chapel, containing Michael Angelo's masterpieces, the world-renowned
frescoes. The immense wall behind the high altar represents the
last judgment, while the ceilings are covered with prophets and
sybils.
The picture-gallery contains many works of the great masters, as
does also the gallery of vases and candelabra.
The Biga chamber. The biga is an antique carriage of white marble,
drawn by two horses.
In the gallery of statues the figure representing Nero as Apollo
playing on the lyre is the finest.
In the gallery of busts those of Menelaus and Jupiter pre-eminently
attract attention.
The name of the Laocoon cabinet indicates the masterpiece it
contains, as also the cabinet of the Apollo Belvidere. The latter
statue was found in Nero's baths at Porto d'Anzio.
The celebrated torso of the Belvidere, a fragment of Greek art,
which Michael partly used as his model, is placed in the square
vestibule. Never was flesh so pliably counterfeited in stone as in
this masterpiece.
A long gallery contains a series of tapestries, the designs for
which were drawn by Raphael.
The Vatican contains ten thousand rooms, twenty large halls, eight
large and about two hundred small staircases.
The Quirinal palace, the summer residence of the Pope, lies on the
hill of the same name (Monte Cavallo), which is quite covered with
villas and beautiful houses, on account of the salubrity of the air.
I visited most of the private palaces and picture-galleries. The
principal are, the Colonna palace, on the Quirinal hill; and the
Barberini palace, where we find a portrait of Raphael's mistress,
Fornarina, painted by himself, and an original picture of Beatrice
Cenci by Guidosteri.
The finest of all the Roman palaces is that of Borghese; from its
form, which resembles a piano, this building has obtained the name
of "il Cembalo di Borghese." The gallery contains sixteen hundred
paintings, most of them masterpieces by celebrated artists.
The Farnese palace is remarkable for its architecture, and the
Stoppani for its architect, Raphael. Besides these there are many
other palaces. I saw but few villas, for the weather was generally
bad, and it rained almost every day.
I visited the Villa Borghese on a Sunday, when there is a great
bustle here; for a stream of people on foot, on horseback, and in
carriages, sets in towards its beautiful park, situate just beyond
the Piazza del Popolo, in the same way that the crowds flock to our
beloved "Prater" on a fine day in spring. I also saw the Villa
Medicis and the Villa Pamfili. The latter boasts a very extensive
park.
I took care to visit most of the churches. My plan was to go out
early in the morning, and to inspect several churches until about
eleven o'clock, when it was time to repair to the galleries. When I
went to the principal churches,--for instance, those of St. John of
Lateran, St. Paul, St. Maria Maggiore, St. Lawrence, and St.
Sebastian,--I was always accompanied by a guide specially appointed
to conduct strangers to the churches. I could fill volumes with the
description of the riches and magnificence they display.
The church of St. John of Lateran possesses the wooden altar at
which St. Peter is said to have read mass, the wooden table at which
Jesus sat to eat the last supper, and the heads of the disciples
Peter and Paul. Near this church, in a building specially
constructed for it, is the Scala Santa (holy staircase), which was
brought from Jerusalem and deposited here. This is a flight of
twenty-eight steps of white marble, covered with boards, which no
one is allowed to ascend or descend in the regular way, every man
being required to shuffle up and down on his knees. Near this holy
stair a common one is built, which it is lawful to ascend in the
regular way.
The basilica of St. Paul lies beyond the gate of the same name, in a
very insalubrious neighbourhood. It is only just rebuilt, after
having been destroyed by fire.
The basilica Maria Maggiore, in which is deposited the "holy gate,"
has the highest belfry in Rome, and above its portico we see a
beautiful chamber where the new Pope stands to dispense the first
blessing among the people. In the chapel of the Crucifix five
pieces of the wood of the Saviour's manger are preserved in a silver
urn.
St. Lorenzo, a mile from the town, is a very plain-looking edifice.
Here we find the Campo Santo, or cemetery. The graves are covered
with large blocks of stone.
St. Bessoriana is also called the church of the Holy Cross of
Jerusalem, from the fact that a piece of the cross is preserved
here, besides the letters I.N.R.I., some thorns, and a nail.
St. Sebastian in the suburbs, one of the most ancient Roman
churches, is built over the great catacombs, in which 174,000
Christians were buried. The catacombs are some stories deep, and
extend over a large area.
All the above-named basilicas are so empty, and stand on such lonely
spots, that I was almost afraid to visit them alone.
The handsome church of Sta. Maria in Trastavare contrasts strangely
with the quarter of the town in which it lies. This part of Rome is
inhabited by people calling themselves descendants of the ancient
Trojans.
Sta. Maria ad Martyres, or the Rotunda, once the Pantheon of
Agrippa, is in better preservation than any other monument of
ancient Rome. The interior is almost in its pristine condition; it
contains no less than fifteen altars. In this church Raphael is
buried. The Rotunda has no windows, but receives air and light
through a circular opening in the cupola.
The best view of ancient Rome is to be obtained from the tower of
the Senate-house. From this place we see stretched out beneath us,
Mount Palatine, the site of ancient Rome; the Capitol, in the midst
of the city; the Quirinal hill (Monte Cavallo), with the summer
residence of the Pope; the Esquiline mount, the loftiest of the
hills; Mount Aventine; the Vatican; and lastly, Monte Testaccio,
consisting entirely of broken pottery which the Romans throw down
here.
I also paid a visit to the Ponte Publicius, the most ancient bridge
in Rome, in the neighbourhood of which Horatius Cocles achieved his
heroic action; and the Tullian prison, beneath the church of St.
Joseph of Falignani, where Jugurtha was starved to death. The
staircase leading up to the building is called "the steps of sighs."
The Capitol has unfortunately fallen into decay; we can barely
distinguish a few remains of temples and other buildings.
Of the graves of the Scipios I could also discover little more than
the site; the subterranean passages are nearly all destroyed.
The Marsfield is partly covered with buildings, and partly used as a
promenade.
Cestius' grave is uncommonly well preserved, and a pyramid of large
square stones surrounds the sarcophagus. The aqueducts are built of
large blocks of stone fastened together without mortar. They are
now no longer used, as they have partly fallen into decay, and some
of the springs have dried up.
The hot baths of Titus are well worthy a visit, though in a ruined
condition. Here the celebrated Laocoon group was found. Near these
baths is the great reservoir called the "Seven Halls of Titus."
One of the greatest and best-preserved buildings of ancient Rome is
the amphitheatre of Flavius, or the Colliseum, once the scene of the
combats with wild beasts. It was capable of holding 87,000
spectators. Four stories yet remain. This building is seen to the
greatest advantage by torchlight. I was fortunate enough to find an
opportunity of joining a large party, and we were thus enabled to
divide the expense. The triumphal arch of Titus, of white marble,
covered with glorious sculptures; the arches of Septimus Severus,
that of Janus, and several other antique monuments, are to be seen
near the Colliseum.
The beautiful bridge of St. Angelo, constructed entirely of square
blocks of stone, leads across the Tiber to the castle of the same
name, the tomb of Hadrian. The emperor caused this large round
building to be erected for his future mausoleum. It is built of
immense stone blocks, and now serves as a fortress and state-prison.
The temple of Marcus Aurelius is converted into the Dogana. That of
Minerva Medica lies in the midst of a vineyard, and is built in the
form of a rotunda. The upper part has sunk in.
There are twelve obelisks in the different public squares of Rome,
all brought from Egypt.
I have still to mention the 108 fountains, from which fresh water
continually spouts into the air. Foremost among them in size and
beauty is the Fontana Trevi.
I was prevented by the bad weather from making trips to any
distance, but one afternoon I drove to Tivoli. The road leading
thither is called the Tiburtinian. After travelling for about six
miles we become conscious of a dreadfully offensive sulphurous
smell, and soon find that it proceeds from a little river running
through the Solfatara. A ride of eighteen Italian miles brought us
to the town of Tivoli, lying amidst olive-woods on the declivity of
the Apennines, and numbering about 7000 inhabitants. Towards
evening I took a short walk in the town, beneath the protection of
an umbrella, and was not much pleased. Next morning I left the
house early, and proceeded first to the temple of Sybilla, built on
a rock opposite to the waterfall. Afterwards I went to view the
grotto of Neptune, and that through which the Arno flows, rushing
out of the cavern to fall headlong over a ledge of lofty rocks, and
form the cascade of Tivoli. The best view of this fall is obtained
from the bridge. Besides many pretty minor cascades, I saw a number
of ruins; the most remarkable among these was the villa of Mecaenas.
November 23d.
At six o'clock this morning I commenced my journey to Florence with
a Veturino. Almost the whole distance the weather was in the
highest degree unfavourable--it was foggy, rainy, and very cold. A
journey through Italy during autumn or winter is far from agreeable;
for there are generally cold and rain to be encountered, and no warm
rooms to be found in the inns, where fires are never kindled until
after the guests have arrived. And the fires they light in the
grates are, after all, quite inadequate to warm the damp, unaired
rooms, and the traveller feels scorched and cold almost at the same
moment. The floors are all of stone, but a few straw-mats are
sometimes spread beneath the dining-tables.
The landscape through which we travelled to-day did not possess many
attractions. For about forty miles, as far as Ronciglione, we saw
neither town nor village. The aspect of Ronciglione is rather
melancholy, though it boasts a broad street and many houses of two
stories. But the latter all have a gloomy look, and the town itself
appears to be thinly populated. We passed the night here.
According to Italian custom, I had made a bargain with the
proprietor of our vehicle for the journey, including lodging and
board. I was well satisfied, for he strictly kept his contract.
But whoever expects more than one meal a day under an arrangement of
this sort will find himself grievously mistaken; the traveller who
wishes to take any thing in the morning or in the middle of the day
must pay out of his own pocket. I found every thing here
exceedingly expensive and very bad.
November 24th.
To-day we passed through some very pretty, though not populous
districts. In the afternoon we at length reached two towns,--
namely, Viterbo, with 13,000 inhabitants, lying in a fruitful plain;
and Montefiascone, built on a high hill, and backed by lofty
mountains, on which a celebrated vine is cultivated. At the foot of
the hill, near Montefiascone, lies a small lake, and farther on one
of considerable size, the Lago de Balsana, with a little town of the
same name, once the capital of the Volsci. An ancient fortress
rises in the midst of this town, surrounded by tall and venerable
houses as with a wreath.
We had now to cross a considerable mountain, an undertaking of some
difficulty when we consider how heavily the rain had fallen. By the
aid of an extra pair of horses we passed safely over the miserable
roads, and took up our quarters for the night in the little village
of Lorenzo. We had already reached the domain of the Apennines.
November 25th.
We had now only a few more hours to travel through the papal
dominions. The river Centino forms the boundary between the States
of the Church and Tuscany. The greater portion of the region around
us gave tokens of its volcanic origin. We saw several grottoes and
caverns of broken stone resembling lava, basaltic columns, etc.
The Dogana of Tuscany, a handsome building, stands in the
neighbourhood of Ponte Centino. The country here wears a wild
aspect; as far as the eye can stretch, it rests upon mountains of
different elevations. The little town of Radicofani lies on the
plateau of a considerable hill, surrounded by rocks and huge blocks
of stone. A citadel or ancient fortress towers romantically above
the little town, and old towers look down from the summit of many a
hill and cliff. The character of the lower mountain-range is
exceedingly peculiar; it is split into gaps and fissures in all
directions, as though it had but recently emerged from the main.
For many hours we almost rode through a flood. The water streamed
down the streets, and the wind howled round our carriage with such
violence that we seriously anticipated being blown over. Luckily
the streets in the Tuscan are better than those in the Roman
territory, and the rivers are crossed by firm stone bridges.
November 26th.
To-day our poor horses had a hard time of it. Up hill and down
hill, and past yawning chasms, our way lay for a long time through a
desert and barren district, until, at a little distance from the
village of Buonconvento, the scene suddenly changed, and a widely-
extended, hilly country, with beautiful plains, the lovely town of
Siena, numerous villages great and small, with homesteads and
handsome farms, and solitary churches built on hills, lay spread
before us. Every thing shewed traces of cultivation and opulence.
Most of the women and girls we met were employed in plaiting straw.
Here all wear straw hats--men, women, and children. At five in the
evening we at length reached
SIENA.
Our poor horses were so exhausted by the bad roads of the Apennines,
that the driver requested leave to make a day's halt here. This
interruption to our journey was far from being unwelcome to me, for
Siena is well worthy to be explored.
November 27th.
The town numbers 16,000 inhabitants, and is divided almost into two
halves by a long handsome street. The remaining streets are small,
irregular, and dirty. The Piazza del Campo is very large, and
derives a certain splendour of appearance from some palaces built in
the gothic style. In the midst stands a granite pillar, bearing a
representation in bronze of Romulus and Remus suckled by the she-
wolf. I saw several other pillars of equal beauty in different
parts of the town, while in Rome, where they would certainly have
been more appropriate, I did not find a single one. All the houses
in the streets of Siena have a gloomy appearance; many of them are
built like castles, of great square blocks of stone, and furnished
with loopholes.
The finest building is undoubtedly the cathedral. Though I came
from the "city of churches," the beauty of this edifice struck me so
forcibly, that for a long time I stood silently regarding it. It
is, in truth, considered one of the handsomest churches in Italy.
It stands on a little elevation in the midst of a large square, and
is covered outside and inside with white marble. The lofty arches
of the windows, supported by columns, have a peculiarly fine effect;
and the frescoes in the sacristy are remarkable alike for the
correctness of outline and brilliancy of colour.
The drawings are said to be by Raphael; and the freshness of colour
observed in these frescoes is ascribed to the good qualities of the
Siena earth. The mass-books preserved in the sacristy contain some
very delicate miniatures on parchment.
Some of the wards in the neighbouring hospital are also decorated
with beautiful frescoes, which appear to date from the time of
Raphael.
The grace and beauty of the women of Siena have been extolled by
many writers. As to-day was Sunday, I attended high mass for the
purpose of meeting some of these graceful beauties. I found that
they were present in the usual average, and no more; beauty and
grace are no common gifts.
In the afternoon I visited the promenade, the Prato di Lizza, where
I found but little company. A fine prospect is obtained from the
walls of the town.
November 28th.
The country now becomes very beautiful. The mountains are less
high, the valleys widen, and at length hills only appear at
intervals, clothed with trees, meadows, and fields. In the Tuscan
dominions I noticed many cypresses, a tree I had not seen since my
departure from Constantinople and Smyrna. The country seems well
populated, and villages frequently appear.
At five in the evening we reached
FLORENCE,
but I did not arrive at Madame Mocalli's hotel until an hour and a
half later; for the examination of luggage and passes, and other
business of this kind, always occupies a long time.
The country round Florence is exceedingly lovely, without being
grand. The charming Arno flows through the town: it is crossed by
four stone bridges, one of them roofed and lined with booths on
either side. Florence contains 8000 houses and 90,000 inhabitants.
The exterior of the palaces here is very peculiar. Constructed
chiefly of huge blocks of stone, they almost resemble fortresses,
and look massive and venerable.
The cathedral is said to be the finest church in Christendom; I
thought it too simple, particularly the interior. The walls are
only whitewashed, and the painted windows render the church
extremely dark. I was best pleased with the doors of the sacristy,
with the celebrated works of Luca del Robbin, and the richly
decorated high altar.
The Battisterio, once a temple of Mars, with eight very fine doors
of bronze, which Michael Angelo pronounced worthy to be the gates of
Paradise, stands beside the cathedral.
The other principal churches are:--St. Lorenzo, also with a white
interior and grey pillars, containing some fine oil paintings, and
the chapel of the Medici, a splendid structure, decorated with
costly stones, and monuments of several members of the royal family.
St. Croce, a handsome church, full of monuments of eminent men, is
also called the Italian Pantheon; the sculptures are beautiful, and
the paintings good. The remains of Michael Angelo rest here, and
the Buonaparte family possess a vault beneath a side chapel.
Another chapel of considerable size contains some exquisite statues
of white marble.
St. Annunciate is rich in splendid frescoes; those placed round the
walls in the courtyard of the church, and surrounded by a glass
gallery, are particularly handsome. On the left as we enter we find
the costly chapel of our Lady "dell' Annunciata," in which the
altar, the immense candelabra, the angels and draperies, in short
every thing is of silver. This wealthy church contains in addition
some good pictures and a quantity of marble.
St. Michele is outwardly beautified by some excellent statues. The
interior displays several valuable paintings and an altar of great
beauty, beneath a white marble canopy in the Gothic style.
St. Spirito contains many sculptures, among which a statue of the
Saviour in white marble claims particular attention.
All these churches are rather dark from having stained windows.
Foremost among the palaces we may reckon the Palais Pitti, built on
a little hill. This structure has a noble appearance; constructed
entirely of pieces of granite, it seems calculated to last an
eternity. Of all the palaces I had seen, this one pleased me most;
it would be difficult to find a building in the same style which
should surpass it. As a rule, indeed, I particularly admired the
Florentine buildings, which seemed to me to possess a much more
decided _national_ appearance than the palaces of modern Rome.
The picture-gallery of this palace numbers five hundred paintings,
most of them masterpieces, among which we find Raphael's Madonna
della Sedia. Besides the pictures, each apartment contains gorgeous
tables of valuable stone.
Behind the palace the Boboli garden rises, somewhat in the form of a
terrace. Here I found numerous statues distributed with much taste
throughout charming alleys, groves, and open places. From the
higher points a splendid view is obtained.
The palace degli Ufizzi, on the Arno, has an imposing effect, from
its magnificent proportions and peculiar style of architecture.
Some of the greatest artistic treasures of the world are united in
the twenty halls and cabinets and three immense galleries of this
building.
The Tribuna contains the Venus de Medicis, found at Tivoli, and
executed by Cleomenes, a son of Apollodorus of Athens. Opposite to
it stands a statue of Apollino.
In the centre of the hall of the artists' portrait-gallery we find
the celebrated Medician vase.
The cabinet of jewels boasts the largest and finest onyx in
existence.
The Palazzo Vecchio resembles a fortified castle. The large
courtyard, surrounded by lofty arcades, is crowded with paintings
and sculptures. A beautiful fountain stands in the midst; and two
splendid statues, one representing Hercules and the other David,
adorn the entrance. The glorious fountain of Ammanato, drawn by
sea-horses and surrounded by Tritons, is not far off.
In the Gherardeska palace we find a fresco representing the horrible
story of Ugolino.
The Palazzo Strozzi should not be left out of the catalogue; it has
already stood for 360 years, and looks as though it had been
completed but yesterday.
In the Speccola we are shewn the human body and its diseases,
modelled in wax by the same artist who established a similar cabinet
at Vienna (in the Josephinum). In the museum of natural history
stuffed animals and their skeletons are preserved.
The traveller should not depart without visiting the "workshops for
hard stones," where beautiful pictures, table-slabs, etc. are put
together of Florentine marble. Splendid works are produced here; I
saw flowers and fruits constructed of stone which would not have
dishonoured the finest pencil. The enormous table in the palace
degli Ufizzi is said to have cost 40,000 ducats. Twenty-five men
were employed for twenty years in its construction; it is composed
of Florentine mosaic. This table did not strike me particularly; it
appeared overloaded with ornament.
Of the environs of Florence I only saw the Grand Duke's milk-farm, a
pleasant place near the Arno, amid beautiful avenues and meadows.
DEPARTURE FROM FLORENCE.
December 3d.
At seven in the evening I quitted Florence, and proceeded in the
mail-carriage to Bologna, distant about eighty miles. When the day
broke, we found ourselves on an acclivity commanding a really
splendid view. Numerous valleys, extending between low hills,
opened before our eyes, the snow-clad Apennines formed the
background, and in the far distance shone a gleaming stripe--the
Adriatic sea. At five in the evening of
December 4th
we reached Bologna.
This town is of considerable extent, numbers 50,000 inhabitants, and
has many fine houses and streets; all of these, however, are dull,
with the exception of a few principal streets. Beggars swarm at
every corner--an unmistakable token that we are once more in the
States of the Church.
December 5th.
This was a day of rest. I proceeded at once to visit the cathedral,
which is rich in frescoes, gilding, and arabesques. A few oil-
paintings are also not to be overlooked.
In the church of St. Dominic I viewed with most interest the
monument of King Enzio.
The picture-gallery contains a St. Cecilia, one of the earlier
productions of Raphael.
A fine fountain, with a figure of Neptune, graces the principal
square. In the Palazzo Publico I saw a staircase up which it is
possible to ride.
The most remarkable edifices at Bologna are the two square leaning
towers at the Porta Romagna. One of these towers is five, and the
other seven feet out of the perpendicular. Their aspect inspired me
with a kind of nervous dread; on standing close to the wall to look
up at them it really appeared as though they were toppling down. In
themselves these towers are not interesting, being simply
constructed of masonry, and not very lofty.
The finest spot in Bologna is the Campo Santo, the immense cemetery,
with its long covered ways and neat chapels, displaying a number of
costly monuments, the works of the first modern sculptors. Three
large and pleasant spots near these buildings serve as burial-places
for the poorer classes. In one the men are interred, in the second
the women, and in the third the children.
A hall three miglia in length, resting on 640 columns, leads from
this cemetery to a little hill, surmounted by the church of the
Madonna di St. Luca, and from thence almost back into the town. The
church just mentioned contains a miraculous picture, namely, a true
likeness of the Virgin, painted by St. Luke after a vision. The
complexion of this picture is much darker than that of the commonest
women I have seen in Syria. But faith is every thing, and so I will
not doubt the authenticity of the picture. The prospect from the
mountains is exceedingly fine.
I returned in the evening completely exhausted, and half an hour
afterwards was already seated in the post-carriage to pursue my
journey to Ferrara.
On the whole the weather was unfavourable; it rained frequently, and
the roads were mostly very bad, particularly in the domains of the
Pope, where we stuck fast four or five times during the night. On
one occasion of this kind we were detained more than an hour, until
horses and oxen could be collected to drag us onwards. We were
twelve hours getting over these fifty-four miles, from six in the
evening till the same hour in the morning.
December 6th.
This morning I awoke at Ferrara, where the carriage was to be
changed once more. I availed myself of a few spare hours to view
the town, which, on the whole, rather resembles a German than an
Italian place. It has fine broad streets, nice houses, and few
arched ways in front of them. In the centre of the town stands a
strong castle, surrounded by fortifications; this was once the
residence of the bishop.
At nine o'clock we quitted this pretty town, and reached the Po an
hour afterwards. We were ferried across the stream; and now, after
a long absence, I once more stood on Austrian ground. We continued
our journey through a lovely plain to Rovigo, a place possessing no
object of interest. Here we stayed to dine, and afterwards passed
the Adige, a stream considerably smaller than the Po. The country
between Rovigo and Padua was hidden from us by an impenetrable fog,
which prevented our seeing fifty paces in advance. At six o'clock
in the evening we reached Padua, our resting-place for the night.
Early next morning I hastened onwards, for I had already seen Padua,
Venice, Trieste, etc. in the year 1840.
I reached my native town safely and in perfect health, and had the
happiness of finding that my beloved ones were all well and
cheerful.
During my journey I had seen much and endured many hardships; I had
found very few things as I had imagined them to be.
Friends and relations have expressed a wish to read a description of
my lonely wanderings. I could not send my diary to each one; so I
have dared, upon the representations of my friends, and at the
particular request of the publisher of this book, to tell my
adventures in a plain unvarnished way.
I am no authoress; I have never written anything but letters; and my
diary must not, therefore, be judged as a literary production. It
is a simple narration, in which I have described every circumstance
as it occurred; a collection of notes which I wrote down for private
reference, without dreaming that they would ever find their way into
the great world. Therefore I would entreat the indulgence of my
kind readers; for--I repeat it--nothing can be farther from my
thoughts than any idea of thrusting myself forward into the ranks of
those gifted women who have received in their cradle the Muses'
initiatory kiss.
NOTES.
{23} A florin is worth about 2s. 1d.
{30} TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE: "Use of the Reaumur scale was once
widespread, but by the late 19th century it had been supplanted by
other systems." (Encyc. Brit.) Some conversions to currently-used
scales (rounded down) are given here:--
Reaumur Fahrenheit Celsius
16 68 20
18 72 22
20 77 25
22 81 27
24 86 30
26 90 32
28 95 35
30 99 37
32 104 40
34 108 42
36 113 45
38 117 47
40 122 50
43 128 53
{40} They receive a dollar from the landlord for every guest whom
they bring to his house.
{48} Boats built very slenderly, and which have a great knack of
upsetting,--a circumstance which renders it necessary for the
occupant to sit like a statue; the slightest movement of the body,
or even of the head or arm, draws upon you a reproof from the
boatman.
{53} A piastre is worth about one and three-quarters pence.
{54} About one pound sterling.
{71a} A khan is a stone building containing a few perfectly empty
rooms, to receive the traveller in the absence of inns, or shelter
against the night air and against storm. Generally in these khans a
Turk is found, who dispenses coffee without milk to the visitors.
{71b} Its height is 9100 feet.--ED.
{79} The well-known artist and author.--ED.
{85} Smyrna is _one_ of the cities that claim the honour of being
the birthplace of Homer.--ED.
{101} Cakes or "scones" in Scotland are baked in the same way.--ED.
{165} I had cut my hair quite close, because I was seldom sure of
having time and opportunity during my long journey to dress and
plait it properly.
{167} This Emir could not maintain his position on Mount Lebanon,
and was summoned to Constantinople. At the time of our visit they
were still awaiting his return, though he had been absent more than
six months.
{236} This is a work of the young Viennese artist, Leander Russ,
who visited Egypt in the year 1832.
{261} A beshlik is worth five piastres in Turkey, and only four in
Egypt.