Naples.
The day after our arrival at this place, we waited on Sir W—— H——, his
Majesty’s minister at this court. He had gone early that morning on a
hunting party with the King; but the Portuguese ambassador, at L——y H——’s
desire, undertook to accompany the D—— on the usual round of visits;
Sir W—— was not expected to return for several days, and the laws of
etiquette do not allow that important tour to be delayed so long. As we
have been continually driving about ever since our arrival, I am already
pretty well acquainted with this town, and the environs.
Naples was founded by the Greeks. The charming situation they have
chosen, is one proof among thousands, of the fine taste of that
ingenious people.
The bay is about thirty miles in circumference, and twelve in diameter;
it has been named Crater, from its supposed resemblance to a bowl. This
bowl is ornamented with the most beautiful foliage, with vines; with
olive, mulberry, and orange trees; with hills, dales, towns, villas, and
villages.
At the bottom of the bay of Naples, the town is built in the form of a
vast amphitheatre, sloping from the hills towards the sea.
If, from the town, you turn your eyes to the east, you see the rich
plains leading to mount Vesuvius, and Portici. If you look to the west,
you have the Grotto of Pausilippo, the mountain on which Virgil’s tomb
is placed, and the fields leading to Puzzoli and the coast of Baia. On
the north, are the fertile hills, gradually rising from the shore to
the Campagna Felice. On the South, is the bay, confined by the two
promontories of Misenum and Minerva, the view being terminated by the
islands Procida, Ischia, and Caprea; and as you ascend to the castle of
St. Elmo, you have all these objects under your eye at once, with the
addition of a great part of the Campagna.
Independent of its happy situation, Naples is a very beautiful city. The
style of architecture, it must be confessed, is inferior to what prevails
at Rome; but though Naples cannot vie with that city in the number of
palaces, or in the grandeur and magnificence of the churches, the private
houses in general are better built, and are more uniformly convenient;
the streets are broader and better paved. No street in Rome equals in
beauty the Strada di Toledo at Naples; and still less can any of them be
compared with those beautiful streets which are open to the bay. This is
the native country of the Zephyrs; here the excessive heat of the Sun is
often tempered with sea breezes, and with gales, wafting the perfumes of
the Campagna Felice.
The houses, in general, are five or six stories in height, and flat at
the top; on which are placed, numbers of flower vases or fruit trees, in
boxes of earth, producing a very gay and agreeable effect.
The fortress of St. Elmo is built on a mountain of the same name. The
garrison stationed here, have the entire command of the town, and could
lay it in ashes at pleasure. A little lower, on the same mountain, is a
convent of Carthusians. The situation of this convent is as advantageous
and beautiful as can be imagined; and much expence has been lavished
to render the building, the apartments, and the gardens, equal to the
situation.
To bestow great sums of money in adorning the retreat of men who have
abandoned the world for the express purpose of passing the remainder
of their lives in self-denial and mortification, seems to be very ill
judged; and might, on some occasions, counteract the design of their
retreat. I expressed this sentiment to a Neapolitan lady at Sir W—— H——’s
assembly, the evening after I had visited this convent. She said, “that
the elegant apartments, the gardens, and all the expensive ornaments I
had particularised, could not much impede a system of self-denial; for
they soon became insipid to those who had them constantly before their
eyes, and proved no compensation for the want of other comforts.” “In
that case,” said I, “the whole expence might have been saved, or bestowed
in procuring comforts to others who have made no vows of mortification.”
“Tolga iddio!” cried the lady, forgetting her former argument, “for
none have so good a title to every comfortable and pleasant thing in
this world, as those who have renounced it, and placed their affections
entirely on the next; instead of depriving these sanctified Carthusians
of what they already possess, it would be more meritorious to give them
what they have not.”
“Give them then, said I, what will afford some satisfaction, instead of
the luxuries of sculpture, and paintings and architecture, which, as you
say, become so soon insipid; let them have enjoyments of a different
kind. Why should their diet be confined to fish and vegetables? Let
them enjoy the pleasures of the table without any limitation. And since
they are so very meritorious, why is your sex deprived of the happiness
of their conversation, and why are they denied the pleasure which the
society of women might afford them?”
“Cristo benedetto!” cried the lady, “You do not understand this
matter.—Though none deserve the pleasures of this world, but those who
think only on the next; yet none can obtain the joys of the next, who
indulge in the pleasures of this.”
“That is unlucky,” said I.
“Unlucky! to be sure it is the most unlucky thing that could have
happened, _ecco dove mi doleva_,” added the lady.
Though Naples is admirably situated for commerce, and no kingdom produces
the necessaries and luxuries of life in greater profusion, yet trade is
but in a languishing condition; the best silks come from Lyons, and the
best woollen goods from England.
The chief articles manufactured here, at present, are, silk stockings,
soap, snuff boxes of tortoise shells, and of the lava of Mount Vesuvius,
tables, and ornamental furniture, of marble.
They are thought to embroider here better than even in France; and
their macaroni is preferred to that made in any other part of Italy.
The Neapolitans excel also in liqueurs and confections; particularly
in one kind of confection, which is sold at a very high price, called
Diabolonis. This drug, as you will guess from its name, is of a very hot
and stimulating nature, and what I should think by no means requisite to
Neapolitan constitutions.
The inhabitants of this town are computed at three hundred and fifty
thousand. I make no doubt of their amounting to that number; for though
Naples is not one third of the size of London, yet many of the streets
here are more crowded than the Strand. In London and Paris, the people
who fill the streets are mere passengers, hurrying from place to place
on business; and when they choose to converge, or to amuse themselves,
they resort to the public walks or gardens: at Naples, the citizens
have fewer avocations of business to excite their activity; no public
walks, or gardens to which they can resort; and are, therefore, more
frequently seen sauntering and conversing in the streets, where a great
proportion of the poorest sort, for want of habitations, are obliged to
spend the night as well as the day. While you sit in your chamber at
London, or at Paris, the usual noise you hear from the streets, is that
of carriages; but at Naples, where they talk with uncommon vivacity,
and where whole streets full of talkers are in continual employment the
noise of carriages is completely drowned in the aggregated clack of human
voices. In the midst of all this idleness, fewer riots or outrages of any
kind happen, than might be expected in a town where the police is far
from being strict, and where such multitudes of poor unemployed people
meet together every day. This partly proceeds from the national character
of the Italians; which, in my opinion, is quiet, submissive, and averse
to riot or sedition; and partly to the common people being universally
sober, and never inflamed with strong and spirituous liquors, as they are
in the northern countries. Iced water and lemonade are among the luxuries
of the lowest vulgar; they are carried about in little barrels, and sold
in half-penny’s worth. The half naked lazzarone is often tempted to spend
the small pittance destined for the maintenance of his family, on this
bewitching beverage, as the most dissolute of the low people in London
spend their wages on gin and brandy; so that the same extravagance which
cools the mob of the one city, tends to inflame that of the other to acts
of excess and brutality.
There is not, perhaps, a city in the world, with the same number of
inhabitants, in which so few contribute to the wealth of the community by
useful, or by productive labour, as Naples; but the numbers of priests,
monks, fiddlers, lawyers, nobility, footmen, and lazzaronis, surpass all
reasonable proportion; the last alone are computed at thirty or forty
thousand. If these poor fellows are idle, it is not their own fault;
they are continually running about the streets, as we are told of the
artificers of China; offering their service, and begging for employment;
and are considered, by many, as of more real utility than any of the
classes above mentioned.