I congratulated myself on having arrived safely at this universally admired city, and had the additional pleasure of finding the hotel, to which I had been recommended, exceedingly comfortable; the establishment was excellent, and the charges, at the same time, reasonable; every thing was conducted upon a fixed system, the prices for rooms and meals being undeviating; nor did they charge for any thing which was not actually partaken of. The rates were as follows:—breakfast, a paul and a half (the paul being little more than five pence sterling); there was a table d’hôte at two o’clock, chiefly frequented by merchants of all nations; and another at five, for the accommodation of those who were travelling for amusement, comprising amongst other articles a good substantial English dinner; for each of which, with a good bottle of wine, the charge was five pauls, somewhat less than half-a-crown sterling; and the bedroom was charged three pauls per night.
The table d’hôte was nearly over when I arrived, but I contrived to make a good dinner from the remains of a roasted turkey, during which I recognised the voice of the Saxony merchant entering the house, and of whom I had gained ground half an hour; but he did not come near me, for the two or three days that he remained at this hotel.
I was not disposed to consider my present visit to this city, more than en passant on my way to Rome, intending to take it more at leisure on my return; my present observations are therefore to be regarded as very casual ones.
Madame H— had the kindness to procure me a servant, but it was not easy to gain much information from him, as he was an Italian, and not in the least acquainted with the French language; however by his naming, as he had been ordered, each street and public building, as we passed along, I soon began to acquire a general idea of the town, and contrived to go wherever I wished, so as to call upon my friends and explore most parts of the city; the weather, however, was unfavourable, and, notwithstanding the advanced state of the spring, both cold and wet, so that for the nine days I staid at Florence, we were only one day exempt from rain more or less: as compared with Nice, it might be considered an English climate.
The cathedral is a beautiful edifice, paved with fine marble, as is also the Duke’s chapel, which is said to contain some exquisite paintings over the altar. On Sunday I was present at the ceremonies of this chapel, where I heard some fine vocal and instrumental music; after which I proceeded to attend divine service at the house of our ambassador, which is opened for that purpose to English residents and visitors: and I could not avoid contrasting its devout and simple solemnity, with the pompous ritual of the Roman church.
There were few public places of amusement open, during my stay at Florence, it being the season of the Carême, or Lent. I visited the Theatre Cocomero, and heard the Barber of Seville, an opera so well known, that it would be superfluous to enter into any description of it; but I cannot resist stating the extraordinary effect produced upon me by the singing of the prima Donna. I thought I could have given the world to have seen her pretty face and figure; the tones and expression of her voice, however, appeared to connect themselves in my mind, by pure sympathy, with exact delineations of her person and attitudes, and to excite the most intense desire to possess the power of vision, which I ever recollect to have experienced since I had the misfortune to lose it. I heard, I felt, I saw or imagined I saw, every thing which words, gestures, and actions could convey: I rose, leaned forward, and felt an almost irresistible impulse to spring upon the stage, to ascertain whether my ideas were illusive or real; and what may be thought more strange my desire to see, appeared to originate from a wish to convince myself that I could not see. I may be thought to overcharge this description with too vivid or affected sentiment, but I can assure the reader, that it contains only a small portion of the exquisite feelings which I experienced.
I am unable to give any account of the state of society at Florence, my intercourse being confined to a very few friends, who were chiefly former acquaintance.
I met with a gentleman just arrived from Rome, who assured me that every thing was quiet and safe there, and I consequently determined, whatever might be the result of the Austrian and Neapolitan war, to advance forward to that place; but my determination was still more confirmed, the day before my proposed departure, by the official news which arrived, of the Austrians having entered the Neapolitan states, without any considerable opposition. At the same time we received intelligence of a revolution having broken out at Turin, Genoa, and Nice, and I could not but feel an equal concern for my friends at the latter place, with what they had previously felt for me; but my apprehensions on this score soon subsided, on finding the effort immediately checked by the Austrians stepping into Piedmont; so that in fact they appear to have taken upon themselves the guardianship of all Italy.
On the 27th of March, I left Florence for Rome, by way of Sienna, in company with an English gentleman, Mr. W. S—, and two Italians. It rained very hard, and the roads were consequently heavy, but our coach was large and comfortable; the horses were indifferent ones, and I observed one of our Italian companions express his dissatisfaction, on finding that we were not to be carried forward by mules, which are more capable of undergoing fatigue, and, I believe, in this country, twice as valuable as horses. We did not halt for breakfast until two o’clock in the afternoon, and as I had taken nothing before leaving Florence, I was really so unwell about twelve o’clock, that I entreated the driver to allow me to partake of a piece of bread, which I heard him eating, but he told me he had just finished it; I felt however sufficiently revived after a hearty breakfast of mutton-chops, coffee, &c. to be able to walk a few miles, which we could do at times, as the weather in the afternoon cleared up. One of our Italian companions was a Roman, and professed himself attached to mineralogy, and a great traveller, having been amongst the Turks, Greeks, Egyptians, Persians, and also over the greater part of Europe: he had, however, yet to visit England, from which he promised himself great gratification. The plain English of this probably was, that he was an itinerant dealer in precious stones. Towards evening the rain came on again, and we had a very heavy journey to Sienna, which we did not reach until after nine o’clock, when we made a hearty supper, and retired to bed.
Sienna is described as a pleasant summer residence, but it must from its vicinity to the Apennines be very wet and cold in winter. There are several good public as well as private buildings; the streets are tolerably handsome, but many of them exceedingly steep. The inhabitants are stated to be hospitable and polished, and to speak the purest Italian of any modern state. There are said to be many English residents. The present pope Pius VII. is a native of this place. The cathedral is magnificent, and particularly famous for its pavement of white marble, inlaid with Scripture pieces of grey marble, amongst which is Abraham’s intended sacrifice of his son Isaac. Another piece, representing Moses striking the Rock, is also greatly admired: the whole, indeed, are of exquisite workmanship, which it took ages to complete. But as I can give little other personal account of this place, than what I might derive from my dreams, having passed nearly the whole of the short time I continued here in bed, I shall say no more respecting it. At six in the morning we recommenced our journey, notwithstanding which early hour, our good and pious coachman had been to mass to pray for a safe journey.
We breakfasted at Buono Convento, where the Emperor Henry VII. was poisoned by a monk with the sacramental wafer, in the year 1314.
The morning was again wet, and the roads rendered very heavy, but in the afternoon the weather cleared up, and we were enabled to walk for a couple of hours. At six in the evening, we arrived at an auberge, named La Scala, where we were to spend the night; it was a single house, placed at the foot of the hill, and leading up to the village of Radicofani, situated considerably farther up the mountain, of that name, at a point inaccessible for carriages; still higher up beyond the village is a rock of singular form projecting over it, on the top of which stands the castle Radicofani, the whole forming a most picturesque scene.
Before our arrival at La Scala, a servant had preceded us, and secured the best apartments for the use of a lady and her family, who were travelling in another voiture. The lady was stated to be Madame Frimont, wife of the Austrian general of that name, on her way from Milan to join her husband at Naples; it is probable, however, that this might be only a ruse de guerre, to secure greater attention; we were glad, however, to get a supper as we could, and I was obliged to sleep in the same room with our vittureno, otherwise the poor fellow must have lain down with his horses in the stable, which it would have been cruel to have compelled him to have done, particularly as he was the most civil and accommodating driver I had yet met with; indeed I would sooner have given up the whole room, than deprived him of half of it.
In the morning, we set off at five o’clock with six horses to ascend the tremendous hill of Radicofani, and a very severe duty it was for them; nor could we reasonably relieve them of part of their weight by walking, as it both rained heavily, and the wind was at the same time boisterous, and, as we approached the summit, extremely cold. At nine o’clock, when we had partly descended on the other side, we stopped at the last village in the Tuscan states, where custom-house officers are stationed to examine the baggage and passports of travellers; we escaped however inspection of the former by the payment of a paul each; after this we proceeded to enter the earthly dominions of his holiness the pope. Soon after the road became execrably bad, and we stuck so fast in the mud and ruts, that the poor horses had the greatest difficulty in dragging the carriage forward; I am informed that this place is in winter frequently quite impassible; we attempted to walk, but could not proceed without the risk of being half buried, so that before we resumed our places, our Italian companions began to cry out for St. Antonio, and half a score more saints, to come to their assistance.
About noon, we reached the first post in the Roman states, where we breakfasted at a miserable inn, Madame Frimont making her appearance soon after us. The day now turned out uncommonly fine, and we proceeded in good spirits; we were shortly after checked by the custom-house officers belonging to his holiness, whose scruples, however, were readily silenced by the sight of a paul from each of us. Shortly afterwards we were detained, to have our passports examined, at the village of Aquapendente, famous for being the birth-place of the great anatomist Fabricius. This detention mortified us exceedingly, as in the interim, Madame Frimont, of whom we had previously the start, passed without interruption, and thus got irretrievably a-head of us. This exemption our driver attributed to the military connexion of the lady, and I believe that, on the same score, I might have refused an examination of my passport; they had, however, the assurance to charge us a paul for inspecting them. The road now became very good, and enabled us to walk for a considerable distance; and the conversation of the party, who all spoke French, proved very agreeable. We met, however, with some unpleasant incidents on the way; amongst which I may name the mangled limbs of a fellow creature who had been executed, exposed on the road side. This unfortunate wretch had no doubt been a robber, perhaps a murderer, and a disgrace to human nature; but granting all this, it appears repugnant to Christian feeling, to exhibit so disgusting a spectacle to the purer part of the community. To check the progress of crime, it is doubtless necessary to inflict punishments, and to make the example more efficacious, to accomplish this before the public eye; but when the penalty has been paid, surely it would be preferable to withdraw the remains of mortality, and place them where they may unoffensively mingle with their parent dust, rather than to leave
Our detention at Aquapendente caused the evening to close in upon us before we expected, and it became so dark, when we were about a league from our destined resting-place for the night, that the driver was obliged to walk at the head of his horses, and guide them in the right road. Before we had proceeded far in this way, we were obstructed by a number of persons with lights in front of us. We had received various intimations of the dangerous nature of the country we were now in, as infested with banditti, and which no doubt is attributable to the poverty of the peasantry, and number of fishermen inhabiting the borders of the lake of Bolsena, which we were passing at no great distance. We were, however, relieved from our fears, on finding that the circumstance arose from a vehicle having broken down in the middle of the road, and which had detained even our consort voiture, that had passed us at Aquapendente. It was some time before we could proceed, and we were then obliged to be guided on our way with lights for two miles, until we reached the town of Bolsena.
The Austrian lady’s servant, however, had preceded us, and secured all the best apartments, so that we were obliged to make shift with what were left: my companions were better able to take care of themselves than I was, so that I fared worse than any, and was obliged to sleep in the passage at the head of the stairs.
We certainly thought the lady very inconsiderate, for she not only secured bed-rooms for herself and children, but had taken one with four beds in it as a sitting-room, which she might have dispensed with, particularly as she knew that there was a coach-full of passengers arrived at the same time. We did not fail to express our sentiments loudly, both in French and Italian, and in such a manner, that we were sure of her becoming acquainted with them. In addition, we had to wait for our supper until she had finished, and this so long, that Mr. W. S. tired of the delay, went to bed without refreshment.
At six in the morning we recommenced our journey through Montefiascone, celebrated for its wines, and reached Viterbo for breakfast. A party of Austrians returning from Naples, unfortunately followed us into the inn, and carried away the attentions of our host and his myrmidons. After breakfast, Mr. W. S. and myself set off before our coach, and walked up the mountain of Viterbo, and when we reached the top experienced a delightfully refreshing breeze, and my companion was gratified with a most magnificent view of villas and villages, with lake Vico on the right, which at first he mistook for the sea. At a distance on the left, was a palace of the king of Naples. We now re-entered the coach, and descended the hill with rapidity, contesting the race with Madame Frimont’s voiture. I cannot say, however, the companionship afforded us any gratification, as we had all the disadvantages without the pleasures of it; for we had not once the honour of conversing with the lady, or of course the merit of voluntarily sacrificing our comforts for her accommodation; it was all one whether we got in first or last, there appeared to be so good an understanding between her servant, the drivers, and the people of the inn, that we were sure to come off only second best.
We reached Ronciglione for the night. At this place, we had the pleasure of meeting with Mr. John Bull, lately from England, but last of all, from Rome, where he had been studying the finer arts, that is, the arts of eating and drinking, and who was now on his return to his native city of London, by way of Florence. He had engaged a voiture of the same description with the one we were travelling in, for the exclusive use of himself and his servant, William Simple, who did not presume to speak any other language than what his mother had thought right to teach him, while Mr. Bull, by three months’ practice, and the assistance of a dictionary, had acquired sufficient Italian to enable him to call for the various objects of his affection. He was loud in his complaints against his Italian coachman, Antonio Sulky, who, contrary to the assurances of the person from whom he had hired his carriage at Rome, was disposed to do everything to please himself, but nothing which he, Mr. Bull, was desirous should be done. Poor Simple, however, appeared to come more immediately under his displeasure, for, having neglected to secure himself a bed, and which he endeavoured to excuse, by saying that he did not know how to ask for one; “Why you fool,” retorted the master, “go up stairs, look out for an empty room, lock the door, and put the key in your pocket.”
Notwithstanding the waiter was too much hurried to think that he had any right to be civil, I got a pretty good supper and bed, nor was I without bed-fellows, and had I been as active as they were lively, the dancing of St. Vitus would not have been comparable with my exertions. But I comforted myself with the certainty of its being the last night of the journey, whereas, poor Mr. Bull had but just commenced his. I cannot but acknowledge, that I amused myself highly with the thoughts of the manner in which he would be jerked out of the Roman into the Tuscan states, an operation of which, I am sure he could himself have no idea.
On the following morning, Saturday, March the 31st, we set off at six o’clock, under the delightful prospect of reaching Rome in the afternoon, being now only twenty-five miles distant. After a rainy morning, we arrived about noon for breakfast at a house nine miles from the city; here Mr. W. S—, meeting some friends, took his leave of us. We had a party of Austrian officers to breakfast at the same table, who treated me with marked attention, reminding me of our having met at Florence. At half past one, we pursued our journey, and at length reached the Ponte Molle, where we crossed the far-famed Tiber,
After this, our road lay for two miles along the ancient Via Flaminia, to the gate formerly of the same name, but now degraded to the vulgar appellation of Porto del Popolo,—that gate, which once poured forth a race of heroes, almost the rivals of the gods themselves, the founders of the glory of Rome, and supporters of its virtue.
It is impossible to describe the feelings which overpowered me, when after passing through this gate, I found myself in the midst of that city, to which my most ardent wishes had been directing me—the once celebrated, and yet interesting Rome,—which
Now, alas! little more than a monument, and shadow, of her former greatness. “How art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations.”
Before concluding the present chapter, it may not be unacceptable to such travellers, as propose to pass from Florence to Rome, by way of Sienna, to state various circumstances, which may be useful in directing their proceedings. In the first place, I shall allude to the contract I had made with the proprietor of the voiture. My bargain was, that we should leave Florence on a fixed day, and proceed forward to Rome, occupying five days and four nights on the journey, resting on the successive nights at the following places, viz. Sienna, La Scala, Bolsena, and Ronciglione. He was to convey myself and luggage, providing me with coffee every morning before setting out, breakfast about noon, and a supper and bed at night; bearing every expense, excepting custom-house fees; for these advantages, I agreed to pay him three Napoleons and a half, with a buona mana of five francs on arriving at Rome, in case he conducted himself properly.
From experience, I would now recommend as a modification of the above plan, after reaching Sienna on the first night, to rest there for a day or two, which not only gives an opportunity of seeing this interesting town, but serves to recruit the horses, or mules, so as to expedite the remainder of the journey. It will be desirable to leave Sienna at four o’clock in the morning, in order to reach La Scala in time to secure good accommodations; in addition, by arriving early, the horses will have a prolonged rest, before undertaking, the next morning, the fatiguing journey over Radicofani: after staying the third night at Bolsena, it is very necessary to set off early on the following morning, to enable you to reach Ronciglione; for although better accommodation might be found at Viterbo, this place is too distant, to make it easy to reach Rome on the following evening, and there is no town between these points which offers any comfortable accommodation.
On arriving at the gates of Rome, your carriage will be taken possession of by custom-house officers, termed doganieri, who conduct you to the custom-house, where a close inspection of baggage takes place; but it is possible to avoid this detention, by writing to your banker, to obtain a lascia passare, or permission to pass, which should be left directed for you at the gate.
Possibly, instead of contracting with the vittureno to perform the journey in a limited time, it might be preferable to engage with him by the day. In this case, you might rest for any time on the road, when points of interest presented themselves; or if he behaved ill, or from any cause became unable to proceed, he might be discharged.