COMO, LAKE OF COMO, _July 29, 1856_.
Recovering from temporary indisposition at Venice, I made up for lost
time in revisiting several cities already seen, such as Padua, Verona,
Milan, Bergamo, Vicenza, and made several detours to visit points that
I was not familiar with, such as the Lago di Garda, whose beautiful
waters will compare favorably with Lago Maggiore and Lago Como.
The whole distance from the fortification of Peschiera to Riva, at the
head of the Lake, is made by a small Austrian steamer in six hours,
touching at the different villages upon its well cultivated banks,
abounding with millions of orange and lemon trees--a source of a great
profit for exportation. This region is protected by mountains, some as
high as six thousand feet, with deep blue waters, romantic waterfalls,
amphitheatred walls, olive groves and climbing vineyards all around.
Although in the north of Italy, approaching Switzerland, the climate in
winter is mild, and fogs are quite unknown; the Lake never freezes.
Proceeding to Milan, the Lombardian capital, by rail and land
conveyance, I was induced to strike off south-east to visit Pavia,
noted for its University containing nine hundred students, and its
collection of anatomy and natural history. Twenty miles distant is
Lodi, rendered memorable by Napoleon in the famous battle crossing the
bridge over the rapid river Adda. I found great preparations making
for the festival of the patron saint of the city, whose remains,
dating from the fourth century, were being transmitted from the old
vault in the basement or crypt of the cathedral to a new sculptured
marble tomb. The sarcophagus was of solid silver, with double crystal
plates inserted in the sides and cover, exposing to view the skeleton;
the bones were joined together with silver wire, and reposed upon a
couch of silk and velvet. The rush of the multitude was so great, I
could scarcely gain access to the altar; men and women were there with
rosaries and handkerchiefs in their hands; and a priest in attendance
was busily engaged in passing these articles over the relics of the
consecrated saint; after which, when communicated to an afflicted part,
they were thought to give relief.
The beautiful plains through which I passed are irrigated at will
with abundance of water; the aqueducts were lined with willows, and
other trees, affording shade the entire length of the road between
the two cities. The rice plantations are beautiful indeed, surpassing
in verdure anything I have seen of the kind in the Carolinas or East
Indies; but the miasma is productive of fevers, and the peasantry live
in villages remote from the inundated fields.
Each city has its objects of interest. Padua boasts of the villa of
Petrarch in the vicinity; its stupendous church of the patron saint
Antonio; its University with fifteen hundred students, bearing upon its
walls the antique armorial insignia of the many noble youths educated
there; its library, its anatomical collection, and fifty-five thousand
inhabitants.
Verona, rather more populous, has its attractions; its old
amphitheatre, in the same style as the Coliseum at Rome, one thousand
four hundred and seventy feet in circumference, with forty-five rows
of seats, and with places for twenty-five thousand persons, is in
remarkable preservation; in the arena is now erected a _Teatro
Diurno_. These day-theatres are without roofs; the performance
commences at six P.M., and is generally frequented. The tomb
of Juliet, in an old convent, is only of interest for the romantic
story of herself and of her lover Romeo. The house of the Capulets also
exists. The position of Verona, divided by the river Etsch, with its
high hills strongly fortified by the Austrians, is almost impregnable
withal, and picturesque; it has become, with its garrison, a second
Mantua.
Vicenza, a smaller city of thirty-five thousand population, has its
antique public square, government house, palace of justice, with
arcades worth looking in upon, and a fine view from the summit of
a hill in the suburbs. A covered gallery some two thousand feet in
length leads the pilgrim to the convent of the Madonna of the Mountain.
An antique Olympic theatre in the city attracts strangers. From the
benches of the amphitheatre I was struck with a singular perspective
receding from the stage of a miniature city of Greekish architecture,
representing streets, houses, and professions. While examining the
old structure of wood, decorated with ornamental figures, I made some
comparisons which were responded to by my conductress, a beautiful
girl of light complexion and golden locks. Upon questioning the girl,
I found that she spoke English, although of Italian birth; every city
and province has its peculiar tongue, and only the educated speak
Italian. It is in Tuscany alone where the language is spoken in its
purity. I have been in dining rooms where there were several groups at
the tables speaking Neapolitan, Genoese, Milanese, and other dialects,
without understanding each other, yet all were Italians. One can well
conceive the difficulty of regenerating a people where such objections
to unity are met with, and where local prejudices are so strong. One
fine morning in Milan, twenty-one guns announced to us the telegraphic
news from Vienna of the birth of a princess to the House of Austria.
Notwithstanding the disappointment (a prince had been hoped for), great
preparations having been made at the Duomo for the celebration, it
came off in this world-wide renowned edifice with the usual pomp and
ceremony of church, civil, and military parade.
The Corso Francesco in Milan has many elegant cafés, which were quite
desolate for two or three days, in consequence of the seizure of
foreign journals giving the debates in England upon Italian affairs.
The old papers were read and re-read, and almost worn through; the
evident disgust and under-toned denunciation of the powers that be
could not pass unobserved.