Madame Hembert of the Pension de Suisse, is a most pleasant and attentive woman, and so well calculated for her situation, that her house has been, for some time, a favourite resort of the visitors to this city. Finding it too small to accommodate her friends, she had, just before our arrival, taken a magnificent palace, called the Maladura, delightfully situated on the banks of the Arno, which she was now busily occupied in removing to. As it was not the most agreeable thing in the world, to reside in the midst of so confused a scene, we determined to take lodgings for the week of our proposed stay in Florence. While we were meditating this arrangement, who should we meet but Mr. F—, a gentleman to whom I was greatly indebted for various kind attentions at Rome, and who instantly proposed that we should place ourselves in the same house, where he himself lodged. This was so agreeable to our inclinations, that we requested him immediately to make the necessary arrangements, and on the following morning took possession of our rooms, situated in the Strada Mal-Aurange.
After this, my friend wished to see a race contested by horses without riders, but we found the ground so wet and uncomfortable, that we returned without waiting for the exhibition; which I was far from regretting, as I know no species of amusement, that, in my present situation, would have less interested me; nor was it novel to my friend.
We dined at a trattoria’s, after which I had the pleasure of accidentally meeting, at the library, with Mr. F—, with whom I had sailed in the felucca, from Nice, and was also introduced to Mr. H—, the gentleman whom I before mentioned, as having travelled with the French merchant, who threw himself into the crater of Vesuvius.
Florence is said to owe its origin to a Roman colony, composed of selected veterans from Cæsar’s legions; but in its modern state, you would scarcely imagine it the offspring of the camp; for its whole appearance bespeaks gentility, and its inhabitants are possessed of so courteous an air, that we cannot wonder it should be selected by our countrymen, as a residence preferable to every other in Italy. The society, both among the natives and foreigners is excellent; and the city abounds with literary institutions, and museums of natural history, and the fine arts. Good houses are easily procured, and provisions and necessaries of all kinds abundant and cheap.
The town itself, both as relates to its public and private buildings, is not only handsome, but in many respects magnificent, and the streets spacious and well paved. It is justly entitled to its appellation of La bella Fiorenza. The only fault attached to it, in my opinion, is its climate; beyond this nothing is wanting.
The week which we passed in this delightful capital flew away with rapidity, and left behind it the impressions of a magic dream; indeed we found ourselves under a state something similar to fascination, so that the longer we remained, the more agreeable its pleasures and society became; and the more enjoyment we partook of, the more appeared to remain unenjoyed. The most prudent plan which suggested itself, was to engage places in a voiture beforehand, for a fixed day, by which means we should find ourselves compelled to depart.
I can scarcely particularize all our employment in the interim, which was devoted to utility as well as amusement. We spent our mornings at the studios, museums, churches, &c.; the afternoon, in the society of the many friends whom we found here. On the Tuesday evening there was a grand procession in the piazza del duomo, or square of the cathedral, a large open place well paved with flag-stones; after which we attempted to visit the large theatre, called the Pergola, but were disappointed, as the house was full in every part, in consequence of the performance being for the benefit of their principal actor David, whose father, an old man of seventy-five, and long since retired from the stage, came forward to sing on the occasion. We were the more concerned at the disappointment, as it was certain that we should have no future night to appropriate to the same purpose.
Friday was St. Peter’s day, and observed as a grand fête, although with nothing like the magnificence displayed at Rome, where it is considered, next to Easter, the grandest festival of the year: the church of St. Peter’s is at the latter place illuminated on this occasion, and an old bronze figure of the saint dressed up in papal robes, decorated with immense numbers of diamonds; they are obliged, however, to protect him with soldiers, lest some of his worshippers should carry their zeal so far, as to endeavour to appropriate these ornaments for their private devotions.
On Saturday we paid our last visit to the celebrated gallery of Florence; but it must not be expected, that I can detail the various statues, and other curiosities, which this museum of the fine arts contains: was I to make the attempt, it would only embrace a repetition of what former travellers have largely, and perhaps many of them tediously, detailed.
Of course the Venus di Medici was the first object of our attention; but I must candidly confess, that I would prefer the possession of a plain amiable countrywoman of my own, whose mind I could admire, to this paragon of beauty, or all the Venuses, animate or inanimate, which Italy possesses. Not but that I am willing to profess myself fully sensible to the magic of beauty, and to admit that Italy possesses its share, as well as many amiable and estimable women; notwithstanding the manners, habits, and system of education, of the country is generally unpropitious to their production.
After the Venus, we were introduced to the Whetter, the Wrestler, the Dancing Fawn, the little Apollo, the flying Mercury, and the unhappy family of Niobe; as well as various others, whose names I cannot remember.
Before leaving Florence, I found it necessary to get a new passport from our ambassador; the old one having been filled up at every point with signs and countersigns, until the original writing was nearly lost in the midst of marginal additions, as well as unintelligible from the length of service it had undergone. After getting the new passport from our ambassador, it was necessary to procure the signatures of two departments of the police, the pope’s legate (to pass through a part of the Roman states,) the Austrian, Piedmontese ambassadors, and also the agent of the Swiss cantons, in expectation of getting through all these states without farther trouble; but our expectations in this respect were not realized; for they always contrive, in large towns, to create some necessity or other for additional signatures.
At length the day arrived for our departure for Milan, and, on Tuesday the 3rd of July, we took a final leave of Florence. In the early part of the day, before we began to ascend the Apennines, it was warm and pleasant, but after we reached these more elevated regions, it became so cold and cloudy, that we expected a fall of snow. In the afternoon we quitted the Tuscan territory with little trouble, but on arriving within the Roman states, were detained for some time, and all our baggage examined and leaded: this they made us pay for; but it had the good effect of enabling us to pass through Bologna, and out of the pope’s territories, without farther interruption. We stopped for the night at a solitary house in the Apennines, thirty-eight miles from Florence, which as we had five successive days to travel, although our horses and the roads were particularly good, was too long a day’s journey in so mountainous a country.
At noon, on the following day, we reached Bologna, where two of our passengers left us for Ferrara. Our remaining companions were an old gentleman with a young wife, returning home to Piacenza; he was a captain in the army of the Dutchess of Parma. Bologna impressed us as a dull, although a fine, city. We ascended to the top of a brick tower, from whence there is a commanding view of the country, with the Apennines forming a fine bold feature on one side, and the plains of Lombardy on the other. This tower, built by the family of Givelli, and said to be three hundred and sixty-five feet in height, is mounted by a wooden staircase of four hundred and fifty steps; the whole in so ruinous a state, that it was scarcely safe to ascend it. One would almost wonder that so large a structure should not have been thought worthy of a stone, or even marble, staircase, in a country where the latter material is so plentiful.
Within the entrance we found a shoemaker at work, who said he had the care of the building; an office, however, of which it seemed difficult to conceive the duties, unless, indeed, it was to prevent persons from attempting to ascend the tower. We had not time to visit the churches and paintings in this fine town.
On quitting Bologna, we travelled along a nearly level road shaded with rows of trees, and which convinced us that we had entered upon the plains of Lombardy.
In the evening, we arrived at Salmogie, a solitary house, where they regaled us with an excellent supper and wines; amongst other dainties, we were treated with Bologna sausages, and certainly thought them very fine, although, in general, I am not partial to salmagundi messes. It occurred to me, whether salmagundi might not be a corruption of the name of this house, which is famous for these sausages, and which are nothing more than salmagundi enclosed in a skin; great quantities of them are purchased by travellers, as well as sent to Bologna, and other neighbouring towns.
After leaving Salmogie, we passed from the popes territories into those of the Duke of Modena. We only stopped at the city of Modena long enough to shew them our passports and natural faces, nor did we purchase any masks to conceal them in, notwithstanding the place is very famous for the manufacture of such articles. We breakfasted at Reggio, after a journey of twenty miles from Salmogie. This city was once of importance, and still of considerable size, although it appeared partly deserted. Towards noon, the weather gave indications of an approaching storm, which came on shortly after three o’clock, with heavy rain, thunder, and lightning; but it was not of long duration, and was succeeded by a very fine evening.
At six o’clock, we entered the states of the unfortunate Maria Louisa, dutchess of Parma, where the custom-house officers accepted a small fee, to exempt us from the trouble of examining our baggage.
In little more than an hour after this, we arrived at the city of Parma, where, during the preparation for our supper, we visited the cathedral, at this time under repair; the evening was too far advanced to enable my friend to see the paintings of the cupola executed by Correggio, who was a native of this place; from thence, we bent our steps to the palace of the dutchess, a large mean looking structure, with nothing like the magnificence of a royal residence about it. It was much surpassed in respectability of appearance by some of the neighbouring buildings. The unhappy Maria Louisa had been a leading subject of our thoughts and conversation since we left Florence, and every thing we are able to glean from our companions, and other sources, contributed to inspire a more than ordinary degree of sympathy and commiseration for her misfortunes. The lines of Lord Byron did not fail to recur to our imagination.
A gentleman of the dutchess’s household, a friend of our companions, supped with us, and expressed himself in the highest terms respecting her affability and kindness to her subjects, to whom she was in the habit of giving balls twice every week. She has placed about her, either as a nurse or a keeper, an old Austrian general, who watches all her movements. Had we arrived somewhat earlier, we should have had the gratification of seeing, or, I should rather say, as relates to myself, examining many of the presents made to her by Bonaparte; as, for instance, her bed, the king of Rome’s cradle, and dressing-table; jewellery, and various other articles.
Provisions are said to be good and cheap at Parma, which we had no reason to call in question; we did not, however, much admire the cheese they gave us, although that produced by this country is so celebrated amongst all gourmands; possibly here, as in other places, the best is sent abroad: the land is rich, and, without doubt, excellent cheese is made in abundance from it.
Proceeding on our journey, we crossed the next day, at five miles from Parma, the bed of the river Carro, now entirely destitute of water; immediately above the place of passing, was a very fine bridge of twenty arches, commenced under the auspices of Maria Louisa, and now nearly completed. After breakfast, it turned out very cold and rainy: throughout our progress over the plains of Lombardy, we had anticipated much inconvenience from heat; we, however, found more reason to complain of cold. We fancied the peasantry also in expectation of warmer weather, as they were in general very lightly clad; the more common costume being black small-clothes, without either shoes or stockings.
At an early hour, we arrived at Placentia, where our companion and his lady left us, having arrived at their own residence; their characters appeared to be of a negative kind: he, a quiet, good sort of an old man; she, a pleasant and amiable young woman, sufficiently silent and reserved, probably from the laudable motive of not wishing to give rise to any unpleasant feeling in his mind; and, actuated by such motives, they might be, and probably were, as happy as if no disparity of years had existed: for it is in the qualities of the mind, and not of the person, that conjugal felicity is dependant.
We arrived at the inn amidst a heavy fall of rain, and every thing felt cold and dismal; our horses and driver were apparently wearied out, although we had only travelled thirty-two miles, and this over a good level road.
Placentia, or Piacenza, is a fine city on the banks of the Po, but the state of the weather prevented us from exploring it.
On the following morning, our driver did not call us until six o’clock, and then it was accompanied by an intimation, that we should have plenty of time to breakfast, whence we inferred, that he was looking out for passengers to fill his now vacant places; but the real cause soon appeared, for in an hour after he apprized us, with great concern, that one of his horses was quite lame, and, totally unable to proceed; but that he had found another voiture, which would carry us to Milan; and for our fare in which, he would arrange with its driver, so that it would make no manner of difference to us. We were glad to comply with this proposal, although we regretted changing our driver, whom we had found a very civil and attentive man: this inability to proceed, was, undoubtedly, to be attributed to his having driven us too far on the first day, in order to oblige two gentlemen of Ferrara, by getting on the second day to Bologna for breakfast instead of supper.
Our new voiture was a much lighter carriage, than the one we had parted from. Before we left the town, we took up an Italian lady and gentleman, who proved very pleasant and respectable people:—the lady about twenty-two, with a pair of such bewitching black eyes, that my friend C— was scarcely able to sustain their glances. The gentleman, who appeared to be her relative, was about thirty, and conversed in a very sensible, but free manner, on the political state of his country, and patriotically anticipated the time when she would be enabled to throw off the yoke of foreign despotism, and assert her liberty and independence: we had, however, only the pleasure of their company as far as Padoglia,—about ten miles.
On leaving Placentia, we crossed the Po, on a bridge of pontoons. The stream was rapid, and the breadth of the river much the same as that of the Thames at London-bridge. We were strongly reminded of Addison’s poetical description of this noble river, whose banks, both in ancient and modern history, have been the scene of so many sanguinary contests.
Soon after this we entered the Milanese territories, and were impressed with the propriety of manner in which our baggage was inspected by the Austrian troops; there was no disposition to neglect their public duty for private interest, no sneaking after bribes; they maintained the necessity of examination, but it was effected, without reward, in an unvexatious manner, and with a proper consideration and respect for the feelings of the proprietors. The only charge made was a regular government fee for the attachment of stamped leads, to enable our luggage to pass throughout all other stations belonging to this government without farther interruption.
I am happy in being able to concur with a number of my countrymen, in doing justice to the integrity of the Austrians in their various transactions with English travellers: that the natives should inveigh against them is not surprising; since it could scarcely be expected, under their relative political situation, and amidst the great distinction of character and habits, that the two nations should assimilate cordially together. Although the Milanese now profess to give the preference to the French government, the time was, during the superior influence of that nation, that they were as averse to its domination, as they are now to that of Austria. Such is the versatility of human nature!
When we were within four miles of Lodi, one of the wheels of our carriage flew off, in consequence of the linchpin becoming disengaged; we spent some time in looking for it, but in vain, and were obliged to substitute a piece of wood, which, however, carried us safely to Lodi. We immediately, on our arrival, proceeded to visit the celebrated bridge, immortalized by the victory of Bonaparte over the Austrians, and which was mainly gained by his own bravery and personal exertions. We found it nearly two miles distant from where our carriage stopped; but to have left it unnoticed, would have been as unpardonable as to have gone to Loretto, without seeing the casa santa of the blessed Virgin.
I cannot do better than give the following concise account of this day, so important to the destinies of the future ruler of France.
“Beaulieu had drawn up his forces behind the Adda, and fortified, with thirty pieces of cannon, a long bridge, in front of which was the town of Lodi, defended by his advanced posts: these Bonaparte attacked, and, after a sharp contest, drove into the town; from whence they passed the bridge, and joined the main body of their army. A battalion of French grenadiers, who had hitherto borne down all before them, now reached the bridge, shouting, “Vive la Republique,” but the dreadful fire kept up by the enemy having stopped their progress, Generals Berthier, Massena, Cervoni, &c. rushed forward: still, however, even their presence might have proved ineffectual, if it had not been for the gallantry of Bonaparte, who, snatching a standard from the hand of a subaltern, placing himself in front, animating his soldiers by his actions and gesticulations, for his voice was drowned by the noise of musquetry and cannon; till these intrepid fellows, led on by their beloved commander, passed the bridge, amidst showers of cannon balls, silencing the artillery, and throwing the main body of Beaulieu’s army in such disorder, that he fled with haste towards Mantua; having lost in this action twenty field pieces, and in killed, wounded, and prisoners, above two thousand men.”
Although pressed for time, we could not deny ourselves the pleasure of passing over this renowned bridge; on arriving at the opposite side, we had the additional gratification of meeting with a beautiful maid of Lodi, at the wash-tub; and who appeared to interest my friend greatly, although he remarked that he had already seen several handsome females at Lodi.
After a hasty dinner at the Gambero, or sign of the Lobster, our vittureno came to inform us, that he was unable to get his coach repaired in time, but that another was waiting, which would take us on to Milan. Thus we were transferred to a third coach; we had some suspicion that this last was a convenient arrangement between the two drivers, to enable the one who had brought us from Placentia to avoid going on with two passengers only; while, at the same time, it gave the other a full complement. However, we had no reason to complain, the road was good, and our new driver ran us into Milan, a distance of twenty miles, in three hours, and with a single pair of horses only.