TURIN, KINGDOM OF SARDINIA, _June 5, 1854_.
Our steamer was a French one, and the commander having reputation for
skill and caution, the little boat of two hundred and twenty horse
power was inundated with passengers from Civita and Leghorn.
It was ridiculous but amusing to notice the rigor of the Neapolitan
police. At the quay, before embarking, one has to have his baggage
examined, or to slyly slip a piece of coin into the hands of the
sentinel; then he passes to the office and gets a permit to embark,
notwithstanding that his passport has already been _visé_ by his
own minister, the Neapolitan Minister of Foreign Affairs, the Inspector
of the Marine, and a permit de sejour has been granted previously--all
of which costs several dollars, for the benefit of the Neapolitan
officials.
Once on board, you suppose yourself clear of the annoyance; but it is
not so. Another scene of counting heads and calling names, to be sure
that none are on board without being regularly labelled.
Our boat had arrived from Sicily, and what with Sicilian and Neapolitan
passengers, every berth was occupied.
After leaving the bay of Naples, the sea was sufficient to quiet many
passengers, and to give a seat at table, which by right could be
retained. The following day, at Civita Vecchia, there came a rush of
passengers from Rome, on their way to Leghorn and Florence. Fortunately
the weather was fine, with a quiet sea; had it been otherwise, with
hatches down, those below would have suffocated. Tents were pitched for
the ladies on deck, and mattresses scattered about for the gentlemen.
Such a democratic party of one hundred and thirty-seven passengers I
had not met lately. It comprised a French consul and his family, and
Greek servants, from Turkey, Italian counts and countesses, marquises,
Spanish generals, English nobility, North and South Americans, German
and other travellers, with all the dialects and tongues of Babel.
In such cases most parties are willing to conform to circumstances,
although those who embarked first with us had great reason to complain
of the abuse of the directors. The first breakfast was at nine, and
dinner at four, and those who had to wait for the second and third
tables were to be pitied.
At Leghorn we remained ten hours, and received as many passengers as we
had landed; so our condition was not much improved.
My trip was just the opposite of one which I made last winter from
France to the island of Sardinia, on board of a steamer of great size,
when I occupied the entire cabin, the commander being my only table
companion.
I rejoiced to get ashore, in the thriving city of Genoa, with civil
custom-house officers and few police nuisances, breathing the air of
constitutional liberty, and lodging in one of the former palaces, now
the Hotel Feder--the inconveniences of the passage made me appreciate
good quarters. I found myself casually occupying the apartment where
the great Irish agitator, O’Connell, breathed his last.
Notwithstanding several visits to the City of Palaces, I spent a
few days profitably. I shall not again describe the contents of the
churches, the style of architecture, the marble and gilded decorations
of the costly edifices, of the famed republic, but simply state that
the intricate streets and numerous lanes, with their tall houses,
not unlike those of Venice, have charms after leaving the broad and
quadrangular streets of many of the cities of Southern Italy. Horse
power is in requisition only in the broad streets and thoroughfares;
but it is curious to watch the multitude threading their way through
the winding passages, with little shops on each side--the women
particularly, with white veils suspended from their heads, and falling
over their shoulders.
The cafés and refreshment rooms are, as in all parts of Italy, supplied
with the melody of harpists and violin-players of both sexes, who make
the circuit, and pick up the crumbs from a musical people.
The gardens and promenades of the Aqua Sole, on the height commanding
the harbor and valley, are frequented by all the beauty and wealth of
the city on Sunday and other festival days.
On my last visit here Charles Albert, the liberal king, had undertaken
the Italian cause against Austria, but had lost his throne, and died in
exile.
Then the journey from Genoa to Turin was a fatiguing one of twenty-four
hours; now the great railroad is open, and the trip is made in five
hours. The distance is one hundred and ten miles; the work was done by
the government at an immense expense. The tunnels (one of which, three
miles in length, is a stupendous work) are all of arched masonry. Too
much money was expended in the construction of this road to permit any
interest to be paid: it cost over two hundred thousand dollars per mile.
Turin of late years has made greater advances in improvements than any
of the cities of Italy; it may be attributed to its liberal government
and the concentration in it of many thousand exiles, including many
wealthy families from Lombardy. The full liberty of the press is
enjoyed here, and quite as much liberty of speech as is consistent with
constitutional government.
The great difficulty in harmonizing or bringing about a union of the
Italian states, will be the different dialects. Here the Piedmontese
patois is spoken. The journals are in Italian, also the shop signs,
and the theatrical performances; but strange to say, the conversation
of almost all classes is in the patois, and it is only the shopkeepers
and the educated classes who speak Italian or French to strangers.
In Genoa, another dialect prevails. In Milan, Venice, and Naples,
they have their patois, and cannot understand each other. All this
contributes to jealousy instead of unanimity, and enables designing
rulers to keep the people in ignorance. The general introduction of
railways and common schools would bring about a change.
The Constitutional Anniversary has just passed off with great
satisfaction. The son and successor of Charles Albert, king Emanuel, is
popular with the masses. He assisted in person, a few days since, at
the opening of the new railroad to Suza, at the foot of the Alps.
A famous Amazon race came off on a recent festival day. The parade
ground was about three-quarters of a mile in circumference; circles and
stands were erected, similar to those in a race-course, to accommodate
twenty thousand persons, the centre being occupied by the ladies of the
royal household. Thirty thousand persons were spectators. The ladies
rode well in the steeple-chase, their horses clearing the bars and
mounds with frightful leaps; but they clung to their steeds beautifully.
Just before sunset there was a circus performance on a grand scale.
Among the riders was a Hercules in the shape of a mulatto, who
galloped two horses, standing erect, one foot on the back of each, and
supporting one of the Amazons on his shoulders. The deer hunt was a
failure. The deer was but little alarmed, and took it very kindly: the
dogs sympathized with the deer, and some of them took to their heels in
another direction, much to the amusement of the crowd and the annoyance
of the manager, who made an explanation and gave an entertainment for
the benefit of the poor.
Turin is, I believe, the only city of Italy where clubs are tolerated.
The principal one is composed of the most respectable persons of the
city, and occupies a commodious palace, with all the advantages of a
library, reading-room, rational amusements, and an excellent table.
Through the politeness of Marquis Palavecini, who, with his bride,
was with us in southern Italy, I found myself registered upon the
privileged list for a fortnight. Upon the tablet of sixteen invited
guests, composed of counts, marquises, and barons, two of the number
had no title; one of whom, however, was of the sovereign people
from America; he dined at the round table d’hôte of eight with the
diplomatic circle of Spain, Prussia, Belgium, and Naples. The liveried
servants, and the presence of distinguished personages, did not seem in
the least to suspend his appetite or prevent his enjoyment of a good
dinner.
Turin, with its population of nearly two hundred thousand, its broad
and well-paved streets, its long line of porticoes surrounding
the public square and extending along the principal thoroughfare,
protecting from sun and rain, has its attractions. Its position upon
the banks of the Po, with long avenues of shade trees throughout the
suburbs, affords fine views. The collection of antique horse armor
and coats of mail in the palace, is the finest in Europe after the
collection of Madrid.
The scarcity of grain this year diminishes the size of the bakers’
loaves, and the outcry of high prices is general, particularly among
the poor, whose principal sustenance is bread and wine, both of which
are deficient.
Turin is celebrated for its pipestem bread, a peculiarity of the city.
It is laughable, at the table d’hôte, to see each person take a handful
of sticks nearly a yard long, and amuse himself in cracking this
crisping and delicious article.
The coming crop promises to be abundant. The wheat appears of a strong
and hard growth. The heads of rye begin to turn already a golden color;
and the hay harvest has commenced. The strawberry and cherry season is
passing, as I noticed apricots are already in market.