Journey from Turin to Bologna--Asti--Schiller and Alfieri--Italian
_cuisíne_--The _vetturini_--Marengo--Piacenza--The Trebbia--Parma--The
Empress Maria Louisa--Modena--Bologna--The University--The Marescalchi
Gallery--Character of the Bolognese.
August ---- 1816
'Twas on a fine morning the 16th August that I took my departure from Turin
with a _vetturino_ bound to Bologna. I agreed to pay him sixty francs for
my place in the coach, supper and bed. When this stipulation for supper and
bed is included in the price fixed for your place with the _vetturino_, you
are said to be _spesato_, and then you have nothing extra to pay for but
your breakfast. There were two other travellers in the _vettura_, both
Frenchmen; the one about forty years of age was a Captain of cavalry _en
retraite_, married to a Hungarian lady and settled at Florence, to which
place he was returning; the other, a young man of very agreeable manners,
settled likewise at Florence, as chief of a manufactory there, returning
from Lyons, his native city, whither he had been to see his relations. I
never in my life met with two characters so diametrically opposite. The
Captain was quite a _bourru_ in his manners, yet he had a sort of dry,
sarcastic, satirical humour that was very diverting to those who escaped
his lash. Whether he really felt the sentiments he professed, or whether he
assumed them for the purpose of chiming in with the times, I cannot say,
but he said he rejoiced at the fall of Napoleon. My other companion,
however, expressed great regret as his downfall, not so much from a regard
for the person of Napoleon, as for the concomitant degradation and conquest
of his country, and he spoke of the affairs of France with a great deal of
feeling and patriotism.
The Captain seemed to have little or no feeling for anybody but himself;
indeed, he laughed at all sentiment and said he did not believe in virtue
or disinterestedness. When, among other topics of conversation, the loss
the French Army sustained at Waterloo was brought on the _tapis_, he said,
"_Eh bien! qu 'importe? dans une seule nuit à Paris on en fabriquera assez
pour les remplacer!_" A similar sentiment has been attributed to the great
Condé.[78] We had a variety of amusing arguments and disputes on the road;
the Captain railed at merchants, and said that he did not believe that
honor or virtue existed among mercantile people (no compliment, by the bye,
to the young fabricant, who bore it, however, with great good humour,
contenting himself with now and then giving a few slaps at the military for
their rapacity, which mercantile people on the Continent have now and then
felt, before the French Revolution, as well as after). The whole road from
Turin to Alexandria della Paglia is a fine broad _chausée_. The first day's
journey brought us to Asti. A rich plain on each side of the road, the
horizon on our right bounded by the Appennines, on our left by the Alps,
both diverging, formed the landscape. Asti is an ancient, well and solidly
built city, but rather gloomy in its appearance. It is remarkable for being
the birthplace of Vittorio Alfieri, the celebrated tragic poet, who has
excelled all other dramatic poets in the general _dénouement_ of his
pieces, except, perhaps, Voltaire alone. I do not speak of Alfleri so much
as a poet as a _dramaturgus_. I may be mistaken, and it is, perhaps,
presumptuous in me to attempt to judge, but it has always appeared to me
that Voltaire and Alfieri have managed dramatic effect and the intrigue and
catastrophe of their tragedies better than any other authors. Shakespeare,
God as he is in genius, is in this particular very deficient. Schiller,
too, the greatest modern poetic genius perhaps and the Shakespeare of
Germany, has here failed also, and nothing can be more correct than the
estimate of Alfieri made by Forsyth[79] when, after speaking of his
defects, he says: "Yet where lives the tragic poet equal to Alfieri?
Schiller (then living also) may perhaps excel him in those peals of terror
which flash thro' his gloomy and tempestuous scene, but he is far inferior
in the mechanism of his drama."
To return to my first day's journey from Turin. It was a very long day's
work, and we did not arrive at Asti till very late, after having performed
the last hour, half in the dark, on a road which is by no means in good
repute. The character of the lower class of Piedmontese is not good. They
are ferocious, vindictive and great marauders. They make excellent soldiers
during war and they not unfrequently, on being disbanded after peace, by
way of keeping their hand in practise and of having the image of war before
their eyes, ease the traveller of his coin and sometimes of his life. Our
conversation partook of these reminiscences, and during the latter part of
our journey turned entirely on bandits "force and guile," so that we were
quite rejoiced at seeing the smoke and light of the town of Asti and
hearing the dogs bark, which reminded me of Ariosto's lines:
Non molto va che dalle vie supreme
De' tetti uscir vede il vapor del fuoco
Sente cani abbajar, muggire armento,
Viene alla villa, e piglia alloggiamenti.[80]
Nor far the warrior had pursued his best,
Ere, eddying from a roof, he saw the smoke,
Heard noise of dog and kine, a farm espied,
And thitherward in quest of lodging hied.
--_Trans_. W.S. ROSE.
We met on alighting at the door of a large spacious inn, two ladies who had
very much the appearance of the two damsels at the inn where Don Quixote
alighted and received his order of knighthood; but, in spite of their
amorous glances and a decided leer of invitation, I had like Sacripante's
steed more need of "_riposo e d'esca che di nuova giostra_." The usual
Italian supper was put before us, and very good it was, viz., _Imprimis: A
minestra_ (soup), generally made of beef or veal with vermicelli or
macaroni in it and its never failing accompaniment in Italy, grated
Parmesan cheese. Then a _lesso_ (bouilli) of beef, veal or mutton, or all
three; next an _umido_ (fricassée) of cocks' combs and livers, a favourite
Italian dish; then a _frittura_ of chickens' livers, fish or vegetables
fried. Then an _umido_ or ragout of veal, fish with sauce; and lastly, an
arrosto (roast) of fowls, veal, game, or all three. The _arrosto_ is
generally very dry and done to cinders almost. Vegetables are served up
With the _umidi_, but plain boiled, leaving it optional to you to use
melted butter or oil with them. A salad is a constant concomitant of the
_arrosto_. A desert or fruit concludes the repast. Wine is drank at
discretion. The wine of Lombardy is light and not ill flavored; it is far
weaker than any wine I know of, but it has an excellent quality, that of
facilitating digestion. A cup of strong coffee is generally made for you in
the morning, for which you pay three or four _soldi_ (sous), and in giving
five or six _soldi_ to the waiter, all your expenses are paid supposing you
are _spesato_, i.e., that the _vetturino_ pays for your supper and bed; if
not, your charges are left to the conscience of the aubergiste, which in
Italy is in general of prodigious width. I therefore advise every traveller
who goes with a _vetturino_ to be a spesato, otherwise he will have to pay
four or five times as much and not be a whit better regaled. The
_vetturini_ generally pay from three to three and a half francs for the
supper and bed of their passengers. As the _vetturini_ invariably make a
halt of an hour and half or two hours at mid-day in some town or village,
this halt enables you to take your _déjeuner à la fourchette_, which you
pay for yourself, unless you stipulate for the payment of that also with
the _vetturino_ by paying something more, say one a half franc per diem for
that. In this part, and indeed in the whole of the north of Italy not a
female servant is to be seen at the inns and men make the beds. It is
otherwise, I understand, in Tuscany.
The whole appearance of the country from Asti to Alexandria presents an
immense plain extremely fertile, but the crops of corn being off the
ground, the landscape would not be pleasing to the eye, were it not
relieved by the frequency of mulberry trees and the vines hung in festoons
from tree to tree. The villages and farmhouses on this road are extremely
solid and well built. We arrived at Alexandria about twelve o'clock, and
after breakfast I hired a horse to visit the field of battle of Marengo,
which is in the neighbourhood of this city, Marengo itself being a village
five miles distant from Alexandria. Arrived on the plain, I was conducted
to the spot where the first Consul stood at the time that he perceived the
approach of Desaix's division. I figured to myself the first Consul on his
white charger, halting his army, then in some confusion, riding along the
line exposed to a heavy fire from the Austrians, who cannonaded the whole
length of the line; aides-de-camp and orderlies falling around him, himself
calm and collected, "spying 'vantage," and observing that the Austrian
deployment was too extended, and their centre thereby weakened, suddenly
profiting of this circumstance to order Desaix's division to advance and
lead the charge which decided the victory on that memorable day, which,
according to Mascheroni:
_splende
Nell' abisso de' secoli, qual Sole_.
The whole field of battle is an extensive plain, with but few trees, and to
use Campbell's lines:
every turf beneath the feet
Marks out a soldier's sepulchre.
The Column, erected to commemorate this glorious victory, has been thrown
down by order of the Austrian government--a poor piece of puerile spite,
but worthy of legitimacy. Alexandria is, or rather _was_, for the
fortifications no longer exist, more remarkable for being an important
military post than for the beauty of the city itself. There is, however, a
fine and spacious _Place_, which serves as a parade for the garrison, and
being planted with trees by the French when they held it, forms an
agreeable promenade. The fortifications were blown up by the Austrians
before the place was given over to the Sardinian authorities, a flagrant
breach of faith and contract, since by the treaty of 1814 they were bound
to give up all the fortified places that were restored or ceded to the King
of Sardinia in the same state in which they were found when the French
evacuated them, and the Austrians took possession provisorily. The French
regarding (and with reason) this fortress as the key of Lombardy always
kept the fortifications in good repair and well provided with cannon. But
the Austrian government, knowing itself to be unpopular in Italy and
trembling for the safety of her dominions, being always fearful that the
Piedmontese Government might one day be induced to favour an
insurrectionary or national movement in the north of Italy, determined,
finding that it could not keep the fortress for itself, which it strove
hard to do under divers pretexts, to render it of as little use as they
possibly could do to the King of Sardinia; so they blew up the
fortifications and carried off the cannon, leaving the King without a
single fortified place in the whole of his Italian dominions to defend
himself, in case of attack, against an Austrian invasion.
On the morning of the 15th August we passed thro' Tortona, now no longer a
fortress of consequence. All this country may be considered as classic
ground, immortalized by the campaigns of Napoleon, when commander in chief
of the army of the French Republic in Italy, a far greater and more
illustrious _rôle_ than when he assumed the Imperial bauble and
condescended to mix with the vulgar herd of Kings.
We arrived at Voghera to breakfast and at Casteggio at night. The country
is much the same as that which we have already passed thro', being a plain,
with a rich alluvial soil, mulberry trees and a number of solidly built
stone farmhouses. The next morning at eleven o'clock we arrived at Piacenza
on the Po, and were detained a quarter of an hour at the _Douane_ of Her
Majesty the Archduchess, as Maria Louisa, the present Duchess of Parma, is
stiled, we being now arrived in her dominions. We drove to the _Hôtel di
San Marco_, which is close to the _Piazza Grande_, and alighted there. On
the Piazza stands the _Hôtel de Ville_, and in front of it are two
equestrian statues in bronze of the Princes Farnesi; the statues, however,
of the riders appear much too small in proportion with the horses, and they
resemble two little boys mounted on Lincolnshire carthorses.
I did not visit the churches and palaces in this city from not having time
and, besides, I did not feel myself inclined or _bound_ (as some travellers
think themselves) to visit every church and every town in Italy. I really
believe the _ciceroni_ think that we _Ultramontani_ live in mud hovels in
our own country, and that we have never seen a stone edifice, till our
arrival in Italy, for every town house which is not a shop is termed a
_palazzo_, and they would conduct you to see all of them if you would be
guided by them. I had an opportunity, during the two hours we halted here,
of walking over the greater part of the city, after a hasty breakfast.
Piacenza is a large handsome city; among the females that I saw in the
streets the Spanish costume seems very prevalent, no doubt from being so
long governed by a Spanish family.
On leaving Piacenza we passed thro' a rich meadow country and met with an
immense quantity of cattle grazing. The road is a fine broad _chaussée_
considerably elevated above the level of the fields and is lined with
poplars. Where this land is not in pasture, cornfields and mulberry trees,
with vines in festoons, vary the landscape, which is additionally enlivened
by frequent _maisons de plaisance_ and excellently built farmhouses. We
passed thro' Firenzuola, a long well-built village, or rather _bourg_, and
we brought to the night at Borgo San Donino. At this place I found the
first bad inn I have met with in Italy, that is, the house, tho' large, was
so out of repair as to be almost a _masure_; we however met with tolerably
good fare for supper. We fell in with a traveller at Borgo San Donino, who
related to us an account of an extraordinary robbery that had been
committed a few months before near this place, in which the _then_ host was
implicated, or rather was the author and planner of the robbery. It
happened as follows. A Swiss merchant, one of those men who cannot keep
their own counsel, a _bavard_ in short, was travelling from Milan to
Bologna with his cabriolet, horse and a large portmanteau. He put up at
this inn. At supper he entered into conversation with mine host, and asked
if there was any danger of robbers on the road, for that he should be sorry
(he said) to fall into their hands, inasmuch as he had with him in his
portmanteau 24,000 franks in gold and several valuable articles of
jewellery. Mine host assured him that there was not the slightest danger.
The merchant went to bed, directing that he should be awakened at daybreak
in order to proceed on his journey. Mine host, however, took care to have
him called full an hour and half before daybreak, assuring him that light
would soon dawn. The merchant set out, but he had hardly journeyed two
miles when a shot from behind a hedge by the road side brought his horse to
the ground. Four men in masks rushed up, seized him and bound him to a
tree; they then rifled his portmanteau, took out his money and jewels and
wished him good morning.
Before we arrived at Borgo San Donino we crossed the Trebbia, one of the
many tributary streams of the Po, and which is famous for two celebrated
battles, one in ancient, the other in modern tunes (and probably many
others which I do not recollect); but here it was that Hannibal gained his
second victory over the Romans; and here, in 1799, the Russians under
Souvoroff defeated the French under Macdonald after an obstinate and
sanguinary conflict; but they could not prevent Macdonald from effecting
his junction with Massena, to hinder which was Souvoroff's object. In fact,
in this country, to what reflections doth every spot of ground we pass,
over, give rise! Every field, every river has been the theatre of some
battle or other memorable event either in ancient or modern times.
_Quis gurges aut quae flumina lugubris
Ignara belli?[81]_
We started from Borgo San Donino next morning; about ten miles further on
the right hand side of the road stands an ancient Gothic fortress called
Castel Guelfo. Between this place and Parma there is a very troublesome
river to pass called the Taro, which at times is nearly dry and at other
times, so deep as to render it hazardous for a carriage to pass, and it is
at all times requisite to send on a man to ford and sound it before a
carriage passes. This river fills a variety of separate beds, as it
meanders very much, and it extends to such a breadth in its _débordements_,
as to render it impossible to construct a bridge long enough to be of any
use.
This, however, being the dry season, we passed it without difficulty. Two
or three other streams on this route, _seguaci del Po_, are crossed in the
same manner.
The road to Parma, after passing the Taro, lies nearly in a right line and
is bordered with poplars. If I am not mistaken, it was somewhere in this
neighbourhood that the Carthaginians under Hannibal suffered a great loss
in elephants, who died from cold, being incamped during the winter. I am
told there is not a colder country in Europe than Lombardy during the
winter season, which arises no doubt from its vicinity to the Alps.
Opulence seems to prevail in all the villages in the vicinity of Parma, and
an immense quantity of cattle is seen grazing in the meadows on each side
of the road. The female peasantry wear the Spanish costume and are
remarkably well dressed.
We arrived at Parma at twelve o'clock and stopped there three hours.
PARMA.
After a hasty breakfast, Mr G-- and myself sallied forth to see what was
possible during the time we stopped in this city, leaving the Captain, who
refused to accompany us, to smoke his pipe. This city is very large and
there is a very fine _Piazza._ The streets are broad, the buildings
handsome and imposing, and there is a general appearance of opulence. We
first proceeded to visit the celebrated amphitheatre, called _l'Amfiteatro
Farnese_ in honour of the former sovereigns of the Duchy. It is a vast
building and unites the conveniences both of the ancient and modern
theatres. It has a roof like a modern theatre, and the seats in the
_parterre_ are arranged like the seats in an ancient Greek theatre. Above
this are what we should call boxes, and above them again what we usually
term a gallery. A vast and deep arena lies between the _parterre_ and the
orchestra and fills up the space between the audience and the _proscenium_.
It is admirably adapted both for spectators and hearers; when a tragedy,
comedy or opera is acted, a scaffolding is erected and seats placed in the
arena. At other times the arena is made use of for equestrian exercises and
chariot races in the style of the ancients, combats with wild beasts, etc.,
or it may be filled with water for the representation of naval fights
(_naumachia_); in this case you have a vast oval lake between the
spectators and the stage. It is a great pity that this superb and
interesting building is not kept in good repair; the fact is it is seldom
or ever made use of except on very particular occasions: it is almost
useless in a place like Parma, "so fallen from its high estate," but were
such an amphitheatre in Paris, London, or any great city, it might be used
for all kinds of _spectacles_ and amusements. A small theatre from the
design of Bernino stands close to this amphitheatre, and is built in a
light tasteful manner. If fresh painted and lighted up it would make a very
brilliant appearance. This may be considered as the Court theatre. At a
short distance from the theatres is the Museum of Parma, in which there is
a well chosen gallery of pictures. Among the most striking pictures of the
old school is without doubt that of St Jerôme by Correggio; but I was full
as much, dare I be so heretical as to say more pleased, with the
productions of the modern school of Parma. A distribution of prizes had
lately been made by the Empress Maria Louisa, and there were many
paintings, models of sculpture and architectural designs, that did infinite
credit to the young artists. I remarked one painting in particular which is
worthy of a Fuseli. It represented the battle of the river God Scamander
with Achilles. The subjects of most of the paintings I saw here were taken
from the mythology or from ancient and modern history; and this is perhaps
the reason that they pleased me more than those of the ancient masters. Why
in the name of the [Greek: to kalon] did these painters confine
themselves so much to Madonnas, Crucifixions, and Martyrdoms, when their
own poets, Ariosto and Tasso, present so many subjects infinitely more
pleasing? Then, again, in many of these crucifixions and martyrdoms, the
gross anachronisms, such as introducing monks and soldiers with match-locks
and women in Gothic costume at the crucifixion, totally destroy the
seriousness and interest of the subject by annihilating all illusion and
exciting risibility.
Parma will ever be renowned in history as the birthplace of Caius Cassius,
the Mend and colleague of Brutus.
The Empress Maria Louisa lives here in the Ducal Palace, which is a
spacious but ornamental edifice. She lives, 'tis said, without any
ostentation. Out of her own states, her presence in Italy would be attended
with unpleasant consequences to the powers that be, on account of the
attachment borne to Napoleon by all classes of society; and it is on this
account that on her last visit to Bologna she received an intimation from
the papal authorities to quit the Roman territory in twenty-four hours. We
next passed thro' St Hilario and Reggio and brought to the evening at the
village of Rubbiera. At St Hilario is the entrance into the Duke of
Modena's territory, and here we underwent again &n examination of trunks,
as we did both on entering and leaving the territory of Maria Louisa.
Reggio is a large walled city, but I had only time to visit the Cathedral
and to remark therein a fine picture of the Virgin and the Chapel called
"Capella della Morte." Reggio pretends to the honour of having given birth
to the Divine Ariosto:
Quel grande che cantò l'armi e gli amorl,
as Guarini describes him, I believe. The face of the country from Parma to
Reggio is exactly the same as what we have passed thro' already.
The next day (20 August) we passed thro' Modena, where we stopped to
breakfast and refresh horses. It is a large and handsome city, the Ducal
Palace is striking and in the Cathedral is presented the famous bucket
which gave rise to the poem of Tassoni called _La Secchia rapita._ An air
of opulence and grandeur seems to prevail in Modena.
At Samoggia we entered the Papal territory and again underwent a search of
trunks. Within three miles of Bologna a number of villas and several
tanneries, which send forth a most intolerable odour, announce the approach
to that celebrated and venerable city. On the left hand side, before
entering the town, is a superb portico with arcades, about one and a half
miles in length, which leads from the city to the church of San Luca. On
the right are the Appennines, towering gradually above you. Bologna lies at
the foot of these mountains on the eastern side and here the plain ends for
those who are bound to Florence, which lies on the western side of the vast
ridge which divides Italy. We arrived at Bologna at half-past seven in the
evening, and here we intend to repose a day or two; I shall then cross the
Appennines for the first time in my life. A reinforcement of mules or oxen
is required for every carriage; from the ascent the whole way you can
travel, I understand, very little quicker _en poste_ than with a
_vetturino_. We are lodged at Bologna in a very comfortable inn called
_Locanda d'Inghilterra_.
BOLOGNA, 22d August.
The great popularity of Bologna, which is a very large and handsomely built
city, lies in the colonnaded porticos and arcades on each side of the
streets throughout the whole city. These arcades are mightily convenient
against sun and rain, and contradict the assertion of Rousseau, who
asserted that England was the only country in the world where the safety of
foot passengers is consulted, whereas here in Bologna not only are
_trottoirs_ broader than those of London in general, but you are
effectually protected against sun and rain, and are not obliged to carry an
umbrella about with you perpetually as in London. This arcade system, is,
however, rather a take off from the beauty of the city, and gives it a
gloomy heavy appearance, which is not diminished by the sight of friars and
mendicants with which this place swarms, and announce to you that you are
in the holy land. At Bologna it is necessary to have a sharp eye on your
baggage, on account of the crowds of ragged _fainéans_ that surround your
carriage while it is unloading.
The first thing that the _ciceroni_ generally take you to see in Italy are
the churches, and mine would not probably have spared me one, but I was
more anxious to see the University. I however allowed him to lead me into
two of the principal churches, viz., the _Duomo_ or Cathedral, and the
church of San Petronio, both magnificent Gothic temples and worth the
attention of the traveller. On the _Piazza del Gigante_ is a fine bronze
statue of Neptune. The _Piazza_ takes its name from this statue, as at one
time in Italy, after the introduction of Christianity and when the ancient
mythology was totally forgotten, the statues of the Gods were called Giants
or named after Devils and their prototypes believed to be such.
In the Museum at the University is an admirable collection of fossils,
minerals, and machines in every branch of science. There are some excellent
pictures also; the University of Bologna was, you know, at all times famous
and its celebrity, is not at all diminished, for I believe Bologna boasts
more scientific men, and particularly in the sciences _positives_, than any
other city in Italy.
In the _Palazzo pubblico_ (_Hôtel de Ville_) is a Christ and a Samson by
Guido Reni; but what pleased me most in the way of painting was the
collection in the gallery of Count Marescalchi. The Count has been at great
pains to form it and has shown great taste and discernment. It is a small
but unique collection. Here is to be seen a head of Christ, the colouring
of which is so brilliant as to illuminate the room in which it is appended,
when the shutters are closed, and in the absence of all other light except
what appears thro' the crevices of the window shutters. This head, however,
does not seem characteristic of Christ; it wants the gravity, the soft
melancholy and unassuming meekness of the _great Reformer_: in short, from
the vivid fire of the eyes and the too great self-complacency of the
countenance, it gave me rather the idea
Del biondo Dio che in Tessalia si adorá.
I passed two hours in this cabinet. I next repaired to the centre of the
city with the intention of ascending one at least of the two square towers
or _campanili_ which stand close together, one of which is _strait_, the
other a leaning one. _Garisendi_ is the name of the leaning tower, and it
forms a parallelipipedon of 140 feet in height and about twenty feet in
breath and length. It leans so much as to form an angle of seventy-five
degrees with the ground on which it stands. The other tower, the strait
one, is called _Asinelli_ and is a parallelipipedon of 310 feet in height
and about twenty-five feet in length and breadth. I ascended the leaning
tower, but I found the fatigue so great that I was scarcely repaid by the
fine view of the surrounding country, which presents on one side an immense
plain covered with towns, villages and villas, and on the other the
Appennines towering one above another. When on the top of _Garisendi_,
_Asinelli_ appears to be four times higher than its neighbour, and the bare
aspect of its enormous height deterred me from even making the attempt of
ascending it. When viewed or rather looked down upon from _Garisendi_,
Bologna, from its being of an elliptical form and surrounded by a wall and
from having these two enormous towers in the centre, resembles a boat with
masts.
From the great celebrity of its University and the eminent men it has
produced, Bologna is considered as the most litterary city of Italy.
Galvani was born in Bologna and studied at this University, and among the
modern prodigies is a young lady who is professor of Greek and who is by
all accounts the most amiable _Bas bleu_ that ever existed.[82] The
Bolognese are a remarkably fine, intelligent and robust race of people, and
are renowned for their republican spirit, and the energy with which they at
all times resisted the encroachments of the Holy See. Bologna was at one
time a Republic, and on their coins is the word Libertas. The Bolognese
never liked the Papal government and were much exasperated at returning
under the domination of the Holy Father. In the time of Napoleon, Bologna
formed part of the _Regno d'ltalia_ and partook of all its advantages.
Napoleon is much regretted by them; and so impatiently did the inhabitants
bear the change, on the dismemberment of the kingdom of Italy, and their
transfer to the pontifical sceptre, that on Murat's entry in their city in
1815 the students and other young men of the town flew to arms and in a few
hours organised three battalions. Had the other cities shown equal energy
and republican spirit, the revolution would have been completed and Italy
free; but the fact is that the Italians in general, tho' discontented, had
no very high opinion of Murat's talents as a political character, and he
besides _committed_ a great fault in not entering Rome on his march and
revolutionising it. Murat, like most men, was ruined by half-measures. The
last tune that Maria Louisa was here the people surrounded the inn where
she resided and hailed her with cries of _Viva I'Imperatrice!_ The Pope's
legate in consequence intimated to her the expediency of her immediate
departure from the city, with a request that she would not repeat her
visit. Bologna is considered by the Ultras, _Obscuranten,_ and _Éteignoirs_
as the focus and headquarters of Carbonarism.
In the evening I visited the theatre built by Bibbiena and had the pleasure
of hearing for the first time an Italian tragedy, which, however, are now
rarely represented and scarcely ever well acted. This night's performance
formed an exception and was satisfactory. The piece was _Romeo and
Giulietta_. The actress who did the part of Giulietta performed it with
great effect, particularly in the tomb scene. In this scene she reminded me
forcibly of our own excellent actress, Miss O'Neill. This was the only part
of the play that had any resemblance to the tragedy of Shakespeare. All the
rest was on the French model. I saw a number of beautiful women in the
boxes. The Bolognese women are remarkable for their fine complexions; those
that I saw were much inclined to _embonpoint_.
[79] And also to Napoleon, after the battle at Eylau.--ED.
[80] Joseph Forsyth (1763-1815), author of _Remarks on antiquities, arts
and letters in Italy_, London, 1813.--ED.
[81] Horace, _Carm._, II, I, 33.--ED.
[82] The young woman in question was Clotilda Tambroni (1768-1818). She
taught Greek at the University of Bologna and was in correspondence
with the great French scholar Ansse de Villoison.--ED.