Nov. 1, 1784.
It was on the twenty-first of last month that we passed from Turin to
Monte Casale; and I wondered, as I do still, to see the face of Nature
yet without a wrinkle, though the season is so far advanced. Like a
Parisian female of forty years old, dressed for court, and stored with
such variety of well-arranged allurements, that the men say to each
other as she passes.--"Des qu'elle à cessée d'estre jolie, elle n'en
devient que plus belle, ce me semble[E]."
[Footnote E: She's grown handsomer, I think, since she has left off
being pretty.]
The prospect from St. Salvadore's hill derives new beauties from the
yellow autumn; and exhibits such glowing proofs of opulence and
fertility, as words can with difficulty communicate. The animals,
however, do not seem benefited in proportion to the apparent riches of
the country: asses, indeed, grow to a considerable size, but the oxen
are very small, among pastures that might suffice for Bakewell's bulls;
and these are all little, and almost all _white_; a colour which gives
unfavourable ideas either of strength or duration.
The blanche rose among vegetables scatters a less powerful perfume than
the red one; whilst in the mineral kingdom silver holds but the second
place to gold, which imbibing the bright hues of its parent-sun, becomes
the first and greatest of all metallic productions. One may observe too,
that yellow is the earliest colour to salute the rising year, the last
to leave it: crocuses, primroses, and cowslips give the first earnest of
resuscitating summer; while the lemon-coloured butterfly, whose name I
have forgotten, ventures out, before any others of her kind can brave
the parting breath of winter's last storms; stoutest to resist cold, and
steadiest in her manner of flying. The present season is yellow indeed,
and nothing is to be seen now but sun-flowers and African marygolds
around us; _one_ bough besides, on every tree we pass--_one_ bough at
least is tinged with the golden hue; and if it does put one in mind of
that presented to Proserpine, we may add the original line too, and say,
Uno avulfo, non deficit alter[F].
[Footnote F:
Pluck one away, another still remains.
]
The sure-footed and docile mule, with which in England I was but little
acquainted, here claims no small attention, from his superior size and
beauty: the disagreeable noise they make so frequently, however, hinders
one from wishing to ride them--it is not braying somehow, but worse; it
is neighing out of tune.
I have put nothing down about eating since we arrived in Italy, where no
wretched hut have I yet entered that does not afford soup, better than
one often tastes in England even at magnificent tables. Game of all
sorts--woodcocks in particular. Porporati, the so justly-famed engraver,
produced upon his hospitable board, one of the pleasant days we passed
with him, a couple so exceedingly large, that I hesitated, and looked
again, to see whether they were really woodcocks, till the long bill
convinced me.
One reads of the luxurious emperors that made fine dishes of the little
birds brains, phenicopter's tongues, &c. and of the actor who regaled
his guests with nightingale-pie, with just detestation of such curiosity
and expence: but thrushes, larks, and blackbirds, are so _very_ frequent
between Turin and Novi, I think they might serve to feed all the
fantastical appetites to which Vitellius himself could give
encouragement and example.
The Italians retain their tastes for small birds in full force; and
consider beccafichi, ortolani, &c. as the most agreeable dainties: it
must be confessed that they dress them incomparably. The sheep here are
all lean and dirty-looking, few in number too; but the better the soil
the worse the mutton we know, and here is no land to throw away, where
every inch turns to profit in the olive-yards, vines, or something of
much higher value than letting out to feed sheep.
Population seems much as in France, I think: but the families are not,
in either nation, disposed according to British notions of propriety;
all stuffed together into little towns and large houses, _entessées_, as
the French call it; one upon another, in such a strange way, that were
it not for the quantity of grapes on which the poor people live, with
other acescent food enjoined by the church, and doubtless suggested by
the climate, I think putrid fevers must necessarily carry off crowds of
them at once.
The head-dress of the women in this drive through some of the northern
states of Italy varied at every post; from the velvet cap, commonly a
crimson one, worn by the girls in Savoia, to the Piedmontese plait round
the bodkin at Turin, and the odd kind of white wrapper used in the
exterior provinces of the Genoese dominions. Uniformity of almost any
sort gives a certain pleasure to the eye, and it seems an invariable
rule in these countries that all the women of every district should
dress just alike. It is the best way of making the men's task easy in
judging which is handsomest; for taste so varies the human figure in
France and England, that it is impossible to have an idea how many
pretty faces and agreeable forms would lose and how many gain admirers
in those nations, were a sudden edict to be published that all should
dress exactly alike for a year. Mean time, since we left Deffeins, no
such delightful place by way of inn have we yet seen as here at Novi. My
chief amusement at Alexandria was to look out upon the _huddled_
marketplace, as a great dramatic writer of our day has called it; and
who could help longing there for Zoffani's pencil to paint the lively
scene?
Passing the Po by moon-light near Casale exhibited an entertainment of a
very different nature, not unmixed with ill-concealed fear indeed;
though the contrivance of crossing it is not worse managed than a ferry
at Kew or Richmond used to be before our bridges were built. Bridges
over the rapid Po would, however, be truly ridiculous; when swelled by
the mountain snows it tears down all before it in its fury, and
inundates the country round.
The drive from Novi on to Genoa is so beautiful, so grand, so replete
with imagery, that fancy itself can add little to its charms: yet, after
every elegance and every ornament have been justly admired, from the
cloud which veils the hill, to the wild shrubs which perfume the valley;
from the precipices which alarm the imagination, to the tufts of wood
which flatter and sooth it; the sea suddenly appearing at the end of
the Bocchetta terminates our view, and takes from one even the hope of
expressing our delight in words adequate to the things described.
Genoa la Superba stands proudly on the margin of a gulph crowded with
ships, and resounding with voices, which never fail to animate a British
hearer--the Tailor's shout, the mariner's call, swelled by successful
commerce, or strengthened by newly-acquired fame.
After a long journey by land, such scenes are peculiarly delightful; but
description tangles, not communicates, the sensations imbibed upon the
spot. Here are so many things to describe! such churches! such palaces!
such pictures! one would imagine the Genoese possessed the empire of the
ocean, were it not well known that they call but fix galleys their own,
and seventy years ago suffered all the horrors of a bombardment.
The Dorian palace is exceedingly fine; the Durazzo palace, for ought I
know, is finer; and marble here seems like what one reads of silver in
King Solomon's time, which, says the Scripture, "_was nothing counted
on in the days of Solomon_" Casa Brignoli too is splendid and
commodious; the terraces and gardens on the house-tops, and the fresco
paintings outside, give one new ideas of human life; and exhibits a
degree of luxury unthought-on in colder climates. But here we live on
green pease and figs the first day of November, while orange and lemon
trees flaunt over the walls more common than pears in England.
The Balbi mansion, filled with pictures, detained us from the churches
filled with more. I have heard some of the Italians confess that Genoa
even pretends to vie with Rome herself in ecclesiastical splendour. In
devotion I should think she would be with difficulty outdone: the people
drop down on their knees in the street, and crowd to the church doors
while the benediction is pronouncing, with a zeal which one might hope
would draw down stores of grace upon their heads. Yet I hear from the
inhabitants of other provinces, that they have a bad character among
their neighbours, who love not the _base Ligurian_ and accuse them of
many immoralities. They tell one too of a disreputable saying here, how
there are at Genoa men without honesty, women without modesty, a sea
with no fish, and a wood with no birds. Birds, however, here certainly
are by the million, and we have eaten fish since we came every day; but
I am informed they are neither cheap nor plentiful, nor considered as
excellent in their kinds. Here is macaroni enough however!--the people
bring in such a vast dish of it at a time, it disgusts one.
The streets of the town are much too narrow for beauty or
convenience--impracticable to coaches, and so beset with beggars that it
is dreadful. A chair is therefore, above all things, necessary to be
carried in, even a dozen steps, if you are likely to feel shocked at
having your knees suddenly clasped by a figure hardly human; who perhaps
holding you forcibly for a minute, conjures you loudly, by the sacred
wounds of our Lord Jesus Christ, to have compassion upon _his_; shewing
you at the same time such undeniable and horrid proofs of the anguish he
is suffering, that one must be a monster to quit him unrelieved. Such
pathetic misery, such disgusting distress, did I never see before, as I
have been witness to in this gaudy city--and that not occasionally or
by accident, but all day long, and in such numbers that humanity shrinks
from the description. Sure, charity is not the virtue that they pray
for, when begging a blessing at the church-door.
One should not however speak unkindly of a people whose affectionate
regard for our country shewed itself so clearly during the late war: a
few days residence with the English consul here at his country seat gave
me an opportunity of hearing many instances of the Republic's generous
attachment to Great Britain, whose triumphs at Gibraltar over the united
forces of France and Spain were honestly enjoyed by the friendly
Genoese, who gave many proofs of their sincerity, more solid than those
clamorous ones of huzzaing our minister about wherever he went, and
crying _Viva il General_ ELIOTT; while many young gentlemen of
high station offered themselves to go volunteers aboard our fleet, and
were with difficulty restrained.
We have been shewed some beautiful villas belonging to the noblemen of
this city, among which Lomellino's pleased me best; as the water there
was so particularly beautiful, that he had generously left it at full
liberty to roll unconducted, and murmur through his tasteful pleasure
grounds, much in the manner of our lovely Leasowes; happily uniting with
English simplicity, the glowing charms that result from an Italian sky.
My eyes were so wearied with square edged basons of marble, and jets
d'eaux, surrounded by water nymphs and dolphins, that I felt vast relief
from Lomellino's garden, who, like me,
Tir'd with the joys parterres and fountains yield,
Finds out at last he better likes a field.
Such felicity of situation I never saw till now, when one looks upon the
painted front of this gay mansion, commanding from its fine balcony a
rich and extensive view at once of the sea, the city, and the snow-topt
mountains; while from the windows on the other side the house, one's eye
sinks into groves of cedar, ilex, and orange trees, not apparently
cultivated with incessant care, or placed in pots, artfully sunk under
ground to conceal them from one's sight, but rising into height truly
respectable.
The sea air, except in particular places where the land lies in some
direction that counteracts its influence, is naturally inimical to
timber; though the green coasts of Devonshire are finely fringed with
wood; and here, at Lomellino's villa, in the Genoese state, I found two
plane trees, of a size and serious dignity, that recalled to my mind the
solemn oak before our duke of Dorset's seat at Knowle--and chesnuts,
which would not disgrace the forests of America. A rural theatre, cut in
turf, with a concealed orchestra and sod seats for the audience, with a
mossy stage, not incommodious neither, and an admirable contrivance for
shifting the scenes, and savouring the exits, entrances, &c. of the
performers, gave me a perfect idea of that refined luxury which hot
countries alone inspire--while another elegantly constructed spot, meant
and often used for the entertainment of tenants and dependants who come
to rejoice on the birth or wedding day of a kind landlord, make one
suppress one's sighs after a free country--at least suspend them; and
fill one's heart with tenderness towards men, who have skill to soften
authority with indulgence, and virtue to reward obedience with
protection.
A family coming last night to visit at a house where I had the honour
of being admitted as an intimate, gave me another proof of my present
state of remoteness from English manners. The party consisted of an old
nobleman, who could trace his genealogy unblemished up to one of the old
Roman emperors, but whose fortune is now in a hopeless state of
decay:--his lady, not inferior to himself in birth or haughtiness of air
and carriage, but much impaired by age, ill health, and pecuniary
distress; these had however no way lessened her ideas of her own
dignity, or the respect of her cavalier servente and her son, who waited
on her with an unremitted attention; presenting her their little dirty
tin snuff-boxes upon one knee by turns; which ceremony the less
surprised me, as having seen her train made of a dyed and watered
lutestring, borne gravely after her up stairs by a footman, the express
image of Edgar in the storm-scene of king Lear--who, as the fool says,
"_wisely reserv'd a blanket, else had we all been 'shamed_."
Our conversation was meagre, but serious. There was music; and the door
being left at jar, as we call it, I watched the wretched servant who
staid in the antichamber, and found that he was listening in spight of
sorrow and starving.
With this slight sketch of national manners I finish my chapter, and
proceed to the description of, or rather observations and reflections
made during a winter's residence at