>IEKltl 1SKAV 
 
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 fjpettfct’ of- Supcrif>rTsyt X('■ 
 
 (Warwick &' Lt,A>nyGTQK, 
 
 JOHN DRIXKWATEH 
 
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 I 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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 fi&sT & A 
 
 
 
 
 

 
 
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VENICE 
 
 UNDER THE YOKE 
 
 OF FRANCE AND OF AUSTRIA: 
 
 WITH MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 ctourt#, <Sobermnent0 t & IP^opi t 
 
 OF 
 
 ITALY; 
 
 PRESENTING 
 
 A FAITHFUL PICTURE OF HER PRESENT CONDITION, 
 
 AND INCLUDING ORIGINAL 
 
 ANECDOTES OF THE BUONAPARTE FAMILY. 
 
 BY A LADY OF RANK, k .31 ?r 
 
 WRITTEN DURING A TWENTY YEARS’ RESIDENCE IN THAT INTERESTING 
 COUNTRY ; AND NOW PUBLISHED FOR THE INFORMATION OF 
 ENGLISHMEN IN GENERAL AND OF TRAVELLERS 
 IN PARTICULAR. 
 
 j ^ crx&'VS Ss-CcvhL 1 
 
 How has kind Heaven adorn’d the happy land. 
 
 And scatter’dblessings with a wasteful hand ! 
 
 But wnat avail her unexhausted stores. 
 
 Her blooming mountains, and her sunny shores. 
 
 With all the gifts that Heaven and Earth impart. 
 
 The smiles of Nature, and the charms of Art, 
 
 While proud Oppression in her vallies reigns, 
 
 And Tyranny usurps the happy plains ? AJdiswt. 
 
 IN TWO VOLS_VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR G. AND W. B. WHITTAKER. 
 
 1824. 
 
LON 0 O N 
 
 rftINTKI) BY COS AND I1AYLIS, CHEAT QUEEN STKEET. 
 
TO THE 
 
 NOBLEMEN AND GENTLEMEN, 
 
 THE MEMBERS OF THE CLUB 
 
 ENTITLED 
 
 44 W&t CratoUm' gowtiL” 
 
 OBSERVATIONS AND REFLECTIONS, 
 
 MADE DURING A 
 
 LONG RESIDENCE IN A COUNTRY WHICH ALL OF THEM 
 HAVE VISITED, 
 
 ARE RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED 
 
 BY 
 
 THEIR MOST OBEDIENT, 
 
 MOST DEVOTED, 
 
 AND MOST FAITHFUL SERVANT, 
 
 THE AUTHORESS. 
 
 London, June 1, 1824 
 
“ Me peregrino errante, e fra gli scogli 
 E fra l’onde agitato e quasi absorto, 
 Queste mie carte in lieta fronte accogli.” 
 
 Tasso. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The Italians call the Preface, “ la salsa del 
 libro ,” the sauce of the book. In the last 
 edition of that most entertaining work, “ The 
 Curiosities of Literature,” Mr. D’lsraeli has 
 an ingenious essay on Prefaces. “ A Preface,” 
 he observes, “ being the porch, or the en¬ 
 trance to a book, it ought to be beautiful : a 
 good one,” he adds, “ is as essential to put the 
 reader into good humour, as a good prologue 
 is to a play, to soothe the auditors into candour, 
 and even into partiality: if well seasoned, it 
 creates an appetite in the reader to devour the 
 book itself.” 
 
 Now, though I am but a very moderate 
 literary cook, I am, of course, anxious, so to 
 “ season ” my introductory matter, as to create 
 
 a 4 
 
yiii PREFACE. 
 
 in the reader an appetite to devour my perform¬ 
 ance. I was, indeed, only the other morning, 
 considering with myself the way in which 
 “ this consummation devoutly to be wished ” 
 could be best effected, when in stepped a 
 friend, to whom I had entrusted the sheets of 
 my work for his candid opinion, and between 
 whom, and the reader’s humble servant, the 
 following short dialogue took place. 
 
 Authoress. 
 
 Good morning, Sir: I see you have brought 
 back the pages of my humble performance. I 
 tremble to hear your honest judgment upon 
 them. 
 
 Friend. 
 
 You have no occasion to tremble, Madam. I 
 have read both your volumes with the greatest 
 care, and am, I assure you, much pleased with 
 their contents. I pronounce your first volume 
 to contain the very best account of Venezia 
 la Ricca, that has hitherto appeared. What 
 title, may I ask, do you purpose giving to your 
 work ? 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 IX 
 
 Authoress. 
 
 The usual one—“ Memoirs;” or “ Travels;” 
 or “ A Journal;” or “ A Narrative;” or some¬ 
 thing of that general sort. 
 
 Friend. 
 
 All “ filthy dowlas,” Madam! Why, those 
 are the very titles adopted by the swarm of 
 tourists, who tell nothing, because their method 
 of travelling supplies them with nothing to be 
 told, and in whose volumes there is not any thing 
 to be found, but such general accounts as leave 
 no distinct idea behind them. What a severe 
 castigation has Dr. Johnson given this class of 
 scribblers! “ He that enters a town at night,” 
 
 says the Doctor, “ and surveys it in the morning, 
 and then hastens away to another place, and 
 guesses at the manners of the inhabitants, by the 
 entertainment which his inn afforded him, may 
 please himself for a time with a hasty change of 
 scenes, and a confused remembrance of palaces 
 and churches : he may gratify his eye with a 
 variety of landscapes, and regale his palate 
 with a succession of vintages ; but, let him be 
 
X 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 contented to please himself, without endea¬ 
 vouring to disturb others. He that reads 
 these books must consider his labour as 
 its own reward; for he will find nothing on 
 which attention can fix, or which memory 
 can retain.” 
 
 Authoress. 
 
 Excellent! most excellent! To that descrip¬ 
 tion of travellers, however, you do not, I 
 hope, Sir, consider me to belong ? 
 
 Friend. 
 
 Assuredly not, Madam. But hear the Doc¬ 
 tor’s concluding observation, which is strikingly 
 applicable to your work : “ He that would 
 travel for the entertainment of others, should 
 remember, that the great object of remark is 
 human life. He only is a useful traveller, who 
 brings home something, by which his country 
 may be benefited j who procures some supply 
 of want, or some mitigation of evil, which may 
 enable his readers to compare their condition 
 with that of others; to improve it wherever it is 
 worse, and wherever it is better to enjoy it.” 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 XI 
 
 Authoress. 
 
 Better and better! But, to come to my 
 title! 
 
 Friend. 
 
 Well, then ! It is an observation of M. Bail- 
 let, that “ if a title be obscure, it raises a 
 prejudice against the author; since we are apt 
 to suppose, that an ambiguous title is the effect 
 of an intricate or confused mind.” Now, from 
 the intense interest which you appear to take in 
 the welfare of the Venetian territory, and the 
 copious details which you have entered into, 
 with regard to its present wretched condition, 
 what think you of “ Venice under the Yoke 
 of France and of Austria ?” 
 
 Authoress. 
 
 It is most felicitous, and shall forthwith be 
 adopted. 
 
 Friend. 
 
 A word or two more, Madam, as to our mo¬ 
 dern tourists. I have looked over nearly the 
 whole of the “ mille et une ” books of travels 
 which have appeared since the peace, and, par¬ 
 don my want of politeness, Madam, when I say, 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 xii 
 
 that some of the very worst of them have been 
 written by your own sex. 
 
 Authoress. 
 
 « Oh fie! can you estimate woman so low ? 
 
 “ To our fair female authors pray think what you owe. 
 
 You do not, surely, mean to say, that there 
 are no exceptions ? 
 
 Friend. 
 
 Certainly not. Two of the best books of 
 travels that have appeared for many a day are 
 the productions of ladies. Mariana Starke’s 
 “ Information and Directions for Travellers on 
 the Continent ,” is one of the most useful little 
 works ever published. 
 
 Authoress. 
 
 It is so. No person should set foot on the 
 Continent without it. 
 
 Friend. 
 
 You have given the “ Imperial white-wash- 
 ers,” as you very properly call them, some 
 hard blows. 
 
 Authoress. 
 
 I like to speak plainly. “ J’appelle un chat 
 un chat, et Rolin—” 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 XU1 
 
 Friend. 
 
 No personalities, I beseech you! And yet, 
 if the St. Helena gentry had been suffered to 
 proceed with their plottings, in what a different 
 condition might England now have been ! Let 
 those who rejoice at the extension of our com¬ 
 merce, through the independence of South Ame¬ 
 rica, ask themselves, whether, Buonaparte con¬ 
 tinuing the ruler of France, that independence 
 would have been effected—whether British 
 Consuls would now have been resident in all the 
 ports of that immense territory—whether Na¬ 
 poleon’s restless ambition, and his deadly hatred 
 of this country, would not have rendered a ten 
 years’ peace absolutely impossible ? 
 
 Authoress. 
 
 You have been reading, I perceive, Mrs. 
 Maria Graham’s excellent “ Journal of a Re¬ 
 sidence in Chili,” and her “ Voyage to Brazil ” 
 
 Friend. 
 
 I have : and every Englishman should do the 
 same. On that clever lady has devolved the 
 task—and an enviable one it is—of first putting 
 upon record, from authentic and official 
 
XIV 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 sources, the progress of so mighty an event, as 
 the emancipation of such an empire from the 
 thraldom of the mother country. What a 
 debt of endless gratitude do the people of 
 England owe to their brave and generous and 
 noble-hearted countryman, the much-injured 
 Cochrane !—who, placed at the head of the 
 naval force of Chili, in the short space of two 
 years and a half,—amidst the jealousies of bro¬ 
 ther officers, the discontents of sailors whose 
 wages had been withheld from them, and even 
 the very dagger of the assassin,—had succeeded 
 in destroying, or forcing to surrender, every 
 Spanish vessel in the Pacific Ocean—had 
 cleared the Western coast of South America of 
 Pirates—had reduced the most important for¬ 
 tresses of the common enemy of the patriots, 
 either by storm or by blockade—had protected 
 the commerce both of the native and the 
 neutral powers—and had added lustre even to 
 the cause of Independence, by exploits worthy 
 of his own great name, and by a firmness and 
 a humanity, which had as yet been unknown in 
 the noble struggle for freedom. While all 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 XV 
 
 England is dwelling with delight on the un¬ 
 speakable advantages which have been obtained, 
 let them read Mrs. Maria Graham’s books, and 
 recollect while they read, that they are mainly 
 indebted for those advantages to the Nelson of 
 the Nineteenth Century. Again, I say—what 
 a debt of endless gratitude do the people of 
 England owe to their brave and generous and 
 noble-hearted countryman, the much-injured 
 Cochrane! 
 
 Authoress. 
 
 May they hasten to repay it! for ingratitude 
 is “ worse than the sin of witchcraft.” 
 
 Friend. 
 
 “ Whether that justice be witheld, or given, 
 
 “ Thus far is right—the rest we leave to Heaven!” 
 
 Let the issue be what it may, scorn will hence¬ 
 forth be the portion of his sordid and cowardly 
 enemies, and eternal infamy the lot of their 
 inheritance. 
 
 Such was, almost literally, the conversation 
 that passed the other morning, between me and 
 my friend; and, as it is explanatory of the 
 
XVI 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 object of my work, and is not without interest 
 in other respects, I shall e’en let it stand as the 
 head-piece of my preface. 
 
 The facts and anecdotes contained in the 
 following pages, are the result of close observa¬ 
 tion, made during a long residence in Italy; 
 but more especially in that very interesting 
 portion of it, which has been so little attended 
 to by our modem writers of books of travels, 
 known as the Venetian States. 
 
 From the opportunities which my rank in life 
 afforded me, of mixing in the first societies, I 
 have been enabled to observe the nobility and 
 gentry of that country in their public, as well 
 as in their private capacity—in their court eti¬ 
 quette, as well as in their more easy domestic 
 circles. I know the general character of the 
 people of Italy. I have both “ summered them 
 and wintered them.” I am intimately ac¬ 
 quainted with their local habits, their manners, 
 their customs, their propensities, and particu¬ 
 larly as they affect the interests of my own 
 country: a species of knowledge this, which 
 it is impossible for those superficial doers of 
 
I> H E F A C E. 
 
 XV11 
 
 books of travels to obtain, who, in nine in¬ 
 stances out of ten, are either ignorant of the 
 language of the country they are attempting to 
 describe, or out of humour and mortified at the 
 difficulty they have found of getting introduced 
 into that good society, by mingling in which, 
 real and genuine information can alone be ob¬ 
 tained. 
 
 I assure my readers, that I have “ nothing 
 extenuated nor set down aught in malice.” 
 The facts I have detailed, have either come 
 within my own knowledge, or have been com¬ 
 municated to me by persons of the highest 
 respectability and consequence. Many of the 
 anecdotes detailing the rise, progress, decline, 
 and fall of the Buonaparte Family, and their 
 conduct in the Milanese and Venetian territo¬ 
 ries, will be found highly interesting. Nor are 
 they less true than they are curious. Though 
 I have been a great sufferer by the revolutionary 
 system, and though my husband has been 
 brought to the very verge of the grave, and has 
 lost nearly every thing by it, “ hors Vhonneur,” 
 
 b 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
XVlll 
 
 PKEFACE. 
 
 yet have I been too deeply impressed with the sa¬ 
 cred duties of morality and religion, to commit 
 a single line to paper, under the influence of re¬ 
 sentment or of black revenge. 
 
 As an honest narrator of facts, I have felt it 
 my duty, in describing the actual situation of 
 Italy, to go out of the beaten track pursued by 
 most of my contemporaries, and especially in 
 that portion of it, which has been so cruelly 
 treated by the soi-disant regenerators of that 
 ill-fated, but beautiful country. 
 
 To impartiality, I trust I may fairly lay 
 claim — 
 
 “ Tros, Tyriusve mihi nullo discrimine agetur”— 
 the conduct of Napoleon, and the conduct of 
 the agents of the Emperor Francis, in Italy, 
 have alike been painted by me in the characters 
 they deserve. 
 
 Of Doctor 0‘Meara’s “ Voice from St. He¬ 
 lena,” I have given my honest opinion in the 
 course of my work. When the worthy Doctor 
 informs his readers, with as solemn a phiz as 
 that which was put on by the Doctors Cam- 
 
P R K F A C E. 
 
 XIX 
 
 phire, Calomel, Julep, and Apozem, when sit¬ 
 ting in judgment on the professional merits of 
 the renowned Emanuel Last, and were granting 
 to the said Last full power, permission, and 
 license, to “pill, bolus, lotion, and potion,” 
 all his majesty’s liege subjects—when Doctor 
 0‘Meara, I say, informs his readers, with such 
 a phiz, that “truth appeared to be Buonaparte’s 
 principal, if not his only object,” I can but 
 smile : but, when the Doctor goes on to talk 
 of his “ great humanity and unbounded kindness 
 of heart,” charity makes me hope, that the Doc¬ 
 tor was a stranger to his cruel conduct towards 
 poor Mrs. Watson, whom, though nearly se¬ 
 venty years of age, he caused to be dragged 
 about, from place to place, until she had become 
 a cripple; and in whose behalf I applied to the 
 present Marquis of Londonderry, then Lord 
 Stewart, when he came to Venice with the pre¬ 
 sent Emperor of Austria ; and who, in conse¬ 
 quence, feelingly procured for her, from the 
 British Government, a pension of fifty pounds a 
 year for life. 
 
 b °2 
 
XX 
 
 PREF'AC E. 
 
 In honest truth, the entire of the Doctor’s 
 work is calculated to give the people of England 
 a false impression, with regard to the genuine 
 character of Buonaparte and the whole of his 
 family. The Doctor tells us, that “ ou leaving 
 Napoleon’s presence, he hurried to his chamber, 
 carefully to commit to paper the topics of con¬ 
 versation.” Of the Doctor’s laudable activity, 
 in endeavouring to lay the foundation of that 
 “ posthumous fame,” which he tells us Buona¬ 
 parte felt “ such a conviction ofj” and that his 
 time was profitably employed, I have no doubt. 
 To scrub the blackamoor white, has, however, 
 ever been considered a difficult task ; and I am 
 not without a hope, that the present publication 
 will have a tendency to open the eyes of those 
 who have hitherto been playing at blind-man’s 
 buff. The whole tribe of imperial white- 
 washers are, however, rapidly finding the 
 way to their proper level: thanks to the native 
 good sense of John Bull! 
 
 In the progress of my work, the reader will 
 find numerous observations interspersed, arising 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 XXI 
 
 naturally out of the matters of which I have 
 been treating; and some of which I am vain 
 enough to hope, will not be deemed undeserving 
 the attention of those to whom they are imme¬ 
 diately addressed. 
 
 With regard to my style of writing, when the 
 liberal Public shall consider, for what a number 
 of years I was absent from my native country, 
 and obligated, of course, to deliver my senti¬ 
 ments in a foreign tongue, I am confident they 
 will be sparing in their criticisms on this head. 
 If they should find me, now and then, tripping 
 in this respect; or, occasionally, making rather 
 too free with the King’s English ; or, peradven- 
 ture, coining a new word or phrase ; I hope they 
 will take the above apology into their generous 
 consideration, and not condemn me to the pu¬ 
 nishment accorded by the statute, “ in that case 
 made and provided.” 
 
 With regard to my politics, there again I am 
 fearful I run the risk of occasionally displeasing 
 all parties; for I cordially acknowledge, that I 
 have sided with none, but have freely 
 
 b 3 
 
 con- 
 
XXII 
 
 PRKFAC E. 
 
 demiied in both what appeared to me worthy of 
 reprobation. 
 
 I have ever been the firm foe of oppression, 
 let it proceed from what quarter it may. The 
 wish nearest my heart is, to see a country, in 
 which I have spent so many delightful days, 
 free and happy. In short, in the words of a 
 sensible traveller, “ My desire is to see inde¬ 
 pendence established, wherever it can maintain 
 itself, and sound and rational English liberty 
 planted wherever it will grow.” 
 
 If the earnestness with which I have ex¬ 
 pressed my opinions do not leave on the minds 
 of my readers a conviction of my sincerity—if 
 what has dropped from my pendo not appear 
 by them to have sprung 
 
 “ Warm from the heart, and faithful to its fires,” 
 
 then, indeed, shall I be sadly disappointed-^- 
 
 then may I exclaim with Titus, not merely 
 “perdidi diem” but “perdidi annos!” 
 
 On the contrary, if what I have written shall 
 have a tendency to excite, in the breasts of my 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 XX111 
 
 countrymen and countrywomen, an interest in 
 the future welfare of the oppressed and ground- 
 down people of Italy, I shall not have taken up 
 the pen in vain. To that people I say, in the 
 language of La Fontaine, “ aide-tot, le del 
 t’aidera.” May they yet show to the world, 
 
 -“ Che l’antico ardore 
 
 Ne gl’Italici cuor non e ancora morta !” 
 
 Lord Bacon says, that the modern dedi¬ 
 cation of books and writings to patrons is not 
 to be commended ; for books such as are wor¬ 
 thy the name of books, ought to have no 
 patrons but truth and reason.” As I wish my 
 work to come under the latter description, I 
 have simply addressed it to the Noblemen and 
 Gentlemen, who constitute the club entitled 
 “ The Travellers’ Society all of whom 
 have visited the country I have described, and 
 can therefore bear testimony to the fidelity, 
 or otherwise, of the picture I have drawn of 
 the condition of its people. 
 
 It has been truly observed, that the sufferings 
 of the descendants of the brave Romans have, 
 
 b 4 * 
 
XXIV 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 for ages, had a perennial spring, in the state of 
 things established by their short-sighted rulers. 
 What the situation of Italy was, at the close of 
 the seventeenth century, the reader will have 
 seen from the beautiful lines which I have 
 chosen by way of motto to the present volumes. 
 What the situation of Italy is, at the commence¬ 
 ment of the present century, I have endea¬ 
 voured to shew in the following pages. The 
 remedy—the sole remedy—pointed out by that 
 great and good man, Mr. Addison, for the ma¬ 
 nifold miseries which afflicted that fairest por¬ 
 tion of God’s globe at the former period, so 
 strikingly continues to be the one that is called 
 for in the present, that I am confident I shall be 
 excused for introducing it at the close of these 
 my prefatory observations. Without the en¬ 
 joyment of that rational liberty which English¬ 
 men have so long laid claim to, as their impre¬ 
 scriptible right, no nation can be virtuous or 
 happy ! 
 
 “ Oh, Liberty, thou goddess heavenly bright, 
 
 Profuse of bliss, and pregnant with delight ! 
 
PREFAC E. 
 
 XXV 
 
 Eternal pleasures in thy presence reign, 
 
 And smiling plenty leads thy wanton train ; 
 
 Eas’d of her load, subjection grows more light, 
 
 And poverty looks cheerful in thy sight; 
 
 Thou mak’st the gloomy face of nature gay, 
 
 Giv’st beauty to the sun, and pleasure to the day. 
 
 “ Thee, goddess, thee, Britannia’s isle adores; 
 
 How has she oft exhausted all her stores! 
 
 How oft in fields of death thy presence sought, 
 
 Nor thinks the mighty prize too dearly bought! 
 
 On foreign mountains may the sun refine 
 The grape’s soft juice, and mellow it to wine, 
 
 With citron groves adorn a distant soil, 
 
 And the fat olive swell with floods of oil: 
 
 We envy not the warmer clime, that lies 
 In ten degrees of more indulgent skies, 
 
 Nor at the coarseness of our heaven repine, 
 
 Though o’er our heads the frozen Pleiads shine: 
 
 ’ Tis Liberty that croums Britannia's isle, 
 
 And makes her barren rocks and her bleak mountains smile.’ 
 
 LONDON, JUNE 1, 1B24. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 TO VOL. I. 
 
 CHAP. I.—VENICE. 
 
 Page 
 
 Introduction.—GeneralState ofltaly under the Austrain Sway. 
 
 —Unprincipled Transfer of Venice and Genoa.— Conduct of 
 the English Government.—Destruction of the European 
 Balance of Power.—Wise Policy of the Venetian Repub¬ 
 lic.—Propriety of restoring Venice and Genoa to their for¬ 
 mer Independence.—Necessity of a new Commercial Code. 
 
 —Prohibitions at Venice against British Manufactures.— 
 Their great Superiority.—Austrian Influence thoughout 
 Italy. 1 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Transactions relating to Venice at Campo Forinio.—Fall of 
 the Venetian Republic.— Its Causes. —Buonaparte’s burning 
 Decrees against British Merchandize.—Consequences of 
 the Prohibitory System. 14 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Buonaparte’s Plans for the Establishment of his Power.—His 
 Vandalic Mutilations of Public Edifices at Venice, and 
 elsewhere.—His Judicial Code, and Schemes of Govern¬ 
 ment.—His Conference after the Battle of Austerlitz with 
 the Monarchs of Russia and Prussia.—Reflections on his 
 Downfall.—Short-sighted Policy of the Holy Alliance, ex¬ 
 emplified in their Conduct towards the People of Italy, and 
 especially towards the Venetians.— A short Fable. 21 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 xxvn 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Page 
 
 Oppressed Condition of the Venetians.—State of the Laws 
 framed for them by Planzit, the soi-disant Solon.—The 
 Criminal Courts.—Ignorance of the Judges.—The Civil 
 Courts.—The Court of Appeal.—Delay of Justice.—Laws 
 relating to Landlord and Tenant.—Austrian Mode of col¬ 
 lecting the Revenue.—Severity of the Tax-gatherers.— 
 Mode of farming the Taxes to Middle Men.—Depressed 
 State of Agricultural Produce.—Debased Condition of the 
 Currency. 34 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 General Character of the Venetians.—Males.—Females.— 
 State of Society.—Casinos.—Marriages.—Dress of the 
 Nobles in the time of the Republic.—Gondolas.—Treat¬ 
 ment of the Meretrices. — The Free-Masons’ Lodge sup¬ 
 pressed. 45 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 The Venetian Tribunals described.—The Gentlemen of the 
 Bar.—Former Greatness of Venice.— Her present fallen 
 Condition.—Necessity of dividing Italy into separate Go¬ 
 vernments.—Appeal to England in behalf of Genoa and 
 Venice. 54 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Niggardly Conduct of the Austrian Authorities in Venice.— 
 Treatment of the Family of Solari.—Anecdote of Murat. 
 
 —The Venetian Bernabotti described.—Venetian Nobility.— 
 
 Libro d’Oro.—Prerogatives of the Aristocracy.—The Qua- 
 ranta. 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 Austrian Treatment of the Company of Venetiau Couriers.— 
 Conduct of Marshal Chatlaire and his horde of Croats, on 
 the destruction of the Palazzo di Andrea Cornaro by fire.— 
 Austrian Mode of indemnifying the Sufferers thereby.— 
 Staniped-paper Memorials to the Emperor. —Revenue 
 derived therefrom.—Deplorable Effects of the Austrian 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 xxviii 
 
 Page 
 
 system of rule on the Arts and Sciences.—And on “ La 
 Bella Litterutura Italiana .”. 72 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Preference given to Germans in all the Public Offices.—The 
 Venetians not suffered to leave the City without Pass¬ 
 ports.—Destruction of the Palaces of the Nobles.—Con¬ 
 fiscation and Sale of them to Jews for Arrears of Taxes.— 
 Neglect of the Arts and Sciences.—Stagnation of Com¬ 
 merce.—Restrictions thereon.—Present State of the Ar¬ 
 senal.—Fettered Condition of the Press. 82 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Overthrow of the Monastic Institutions at Venice.—Reduced 
 Condition of their former Inmates.—Low State of the 
 Ecclesiastical Establishments.—Religion of the Venetians.— 
 
 A Visit to the Greek Church—And to the Armenian.— 
 
 The Inquisition. 93 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 Reflections on the Conduct pursued by Buonaparte towards 
 the Italian States—And on the Imitation of that Conduct 
 by those who have succeeded him in the Usurpation of the 
 Country. 105 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 The Subject continued.—Buonaparte considered as a General. 
 
 —The Napoleon Military System described.—His Mode 
 of treating the Soldiers.— Strict Discipline of his Armies.— 
 Some of the leading Causes of his Overthrow pointed out. — 
 Origin of Revolutions in a State.;. 113 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 The Subject continued.—The Napoleon Military System of 
 Government further inquired into.— Its Effects on the 
 Customs and Habits of the French People.—Napoleon’s 
 deceitful and crafty Policy exposed.—His Surrender to the 
 British—And Death at St. Helena. 121 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 XXIX 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 The Subject continued.—The Holy Alliance described.— 
 Return to the Condition of Italy under the Austrian Yoke. 
 
 —Impracticability of assimilating the German and Italian 
 Character. 129 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 German Attempts to improve Italian Edifices.—Enumeration 
 of the Distresses occasioned at Venice by the wretched State 
 of the Coinage. 138 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 Reflections on Architecture generally.— Its Origin. —The 
 Grecian Style.—Palmyra.—The Egyptian Column.—Neces¬ 
 sity of a Petrific Standard of Antiquity.—St. Paul’s Cathe¬ 
 dral.— Of Cupolas.—State of Architecture in England com¬ 
 pared with that of Italy.—The Palace of the Doge. 148 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 Some of the magnificent Edifices at Venice described.—-The 
 Basilica, or Church of San Marco.—The Four Brazen 
 Steeds of Lysippus.—A few Words on the Hyde Park 
 Achilles.— Saint Mark’s Square—The Campanile.—The 
 Procuratia.—The Public Library.—The Ducal Palace.— 
 
 The Italians particularly fond of Pictures.—A few Words 
 of Advice to the Quakers and other Contemners of the Fine 
 Arts.—A Comparison between the Society of Friends and 
 the Sons of Israel. 158 
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 A General Description of the City of Venice under the Repub¬ 
 lic.—And of the Manners of its Inhabitants.—The Venetian 
 School of Painting.—Liberality of the Government to¬ 
 wards her Great Men.—Tintoretto. —A few Words respect¬ 
 ing Canova.—A Hint, en passant, to young Artists.—Cha¬ 
 racter of the Venetians and of the English contrasted.— 
 Milton.—Shakespeare.—Dante.—Ariosto.—The Novellieri. 
 
 —Blessings of Peace...,. lb‘9 
 
xxxii 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. XXVII. 
 
 Page 
 
 Napoleon now visits Venice for the first time.—Meets the Pre¬ 
 fects at Vicenza.—His conversation with Marquis Solari 
 respecting the Sette Communi.—Napoleon at the Venetian 
 Casinos.—Appoints sundry Ladies dames d’ honneur to the 
 Empress.—Account of the Vice-Queen of Italy.—My inter¬ 
 view with Barras.—Napoleon’s Character by Barras—And 
 by Augereau. 301 
 
 CHAP. XXVIII. 
 
 My interview with General Menon.—Buonaparte’s Prepara¬ 
 tions at Boulogne for the Invasion of England.—Is called 
 the Arch-Drover of Italy.—And why.—His interview at 
 Malghera with the Marquis di Solari.—Interesting account 
 of the Inhabitants of the Sette Communi.—Their Language. 
 
 —Their mode of Living.—Produce of the Soil.—Their Ha¬ 
 bitations.— Mild Government of the Prefect Solari.—Ludi¬ 
 crous Anecdote.—A hint to the Secretary for the Home De¬ 
 partment.—And a caution to certain mural Defacers.—The 
 Authoress refuses to betray the Interests of her Country — 
 
 And is therefore placed under Surveillance—But escapes 
 from Treviso to Venice—And thence to Malta. 315 
 
 CHAP XXIX. 
 
 Farther Anecdotes illustrative of the French Rule in the Vene¬ 
 tian Teritory.—Anecdote of Buonaparte and St. Mark’s 
 Place.—Parisian Gasconade.—Thelmperial White-w'ashers 
 exposed.— Anecdote of Fouche and Buonaparte.— Dr. 
 O’Meara and his “ Voice from St. Helena .”—Anecdotes of 
 Buonaparte’s Escape from Elba.— General Character of his 
 Government in Italy. —His Encouragement of Literary Men 
 contrasted with that of another great Hero. 316 
 
MEMOIRS, 
 
 8$c. <§c. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Introduction . General State of Italy under the Austrian 
 
 Sway . Unprincipled Transfer of Venice and Genoa . 
 
 Conduct of the English Government . Destruction of the 
 
 European Balance of Power . Wise Policy of the Vene¬ 
 tian Republic . Propriety of restoring Venice and Genoa 
 
 to their former Independence . Necessity of a new Com¬ 
 mercial Code . Prohibitions at Venice against British 
 
 Manufactures . Their great Superiority . Austrian 
 
 Infiuence throughout Italy. 
 
 Of Italy I am about to write, and of the 
 present condition of her government and people. 
 And, when Italy is the theme, what lover of 
 science and of genuine freedom will not accord 
 me his patient attention ? In this fairest por¬ 
 tion of Europe—this cradle of the arts—this 
 birth-place of historians, poets, painters, sculp¬ 
 tors, orators, and musicians—fifteen millions of 
 
 VOL. i. 
 
 c 
 
2 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 fellow Christians, in an age calling itself liberal 
 and enlightened, weighed down by burthens 
 the most galling, oppressed by a series of mea¬ 
 sures as unaccountable as they are inimical to 
 liberty and to happiness—are seen groaning 
 under a load of wretchedness, as unparalleled 
 in its extent, as it has been uncalled-for and 
 unprovoked by the conduct of the unhappy 
 sufferers! Deeds of cruelty the most wanton and 
 unheard-of have been exercised towards them ; 
 while submission the most pliant, on the part of 
 the forlorn victims, has but served to render 
 still more obdurate the hearts of the civilized 
 savages, who have taken upon themselves the 
 task of governing this most beautiful, but ill- 
 fated portion of the globe. 
 
 Unhappy Venice ! thy melancholy fate might 
 surely have drawn down upon thee the charity of 
 the whole world! In any age but an age of selfish¬ 
 ness and cold calculation, to have beheld thee 
 alone, would have been sufficient to have called 
 forth the indignation of mankind. But, unfor¬ 
 tunately, thou hast partners in affliction, to divide 
 with thee the compassions of philanthropy. And 
 yet, the conjoint misery of the forlorn sisterhood 
 of Italian States can neither elicit the justice of 
 the governments of Europe, nor rouse into 
 action the sympathy of surrounding nations ! 
 
VENICE. 
 
 3 
 
 Ye, who deprecate slavery in all its shapes 
 and appearances—ye, who form yourselves into 
 societies, to mitigate the condition of the sable 
 African, and to abolish the traffic in the flesh 
 of your fellow-creatures —turn, for a moment 
 turn, your friendly attention towards the fettered 
 Venetians ! Hurried away, by the arch-drover 
 Napoleon, to the European bazar, see them 
 transferred to the yoke of Austria, and remorse¬ 
 lessly consigned to the grasp of German rapacity! 
 Next, behold the noble-minded Genoese, bound 
 hand and foot, conveyed, in like manner, to the 
 Anthropophagean Smithfield ! Lulled into fatal 
 security, see them manacled by those modern 
 English politicans —whose misdeeds have roused 
 into hatred of the British government the finest 
 portion of Europe—and penned up for the loath¬ 
 some and nefarious market; where a bargain has 
 been struck with the Sardinian planters and Pied¬ 
 montese rice-growers, and the poor Genoese, 
 like their brethren in misfortune, the unhappy 
 Venetians, have been harnessed to the yoke, 
 and left to bewail their miserable condition, 
 and expiate their past sins. 
 
 Shade of the renowned Columbus! could’st 
 thou arise from the silent tomb,* and behold 
 
 * Christopher Columbus, thecelebrated navigator, and disco- 
 
 13 2 
 
 verer 
 
4 , 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 the land of thy birth betrayed into the hands 
 of the enemy, by a commercial people, to what 
 language would thy tongue give utterance ? 
 But, in this, as in all things, we discern the 
 finger of that Providence, whose decrees are 
 immutable, and the blind ignorance of frail and 
 feeble mortals. Glad, indeed, should I be, 
 could I honestly exonerate our rulers from the 
 imputation of having assisted in the transfer of 
 the Genoese to the yoke of their ancient foe 
 and inveterate rival, the King of Sardinia ; and 
 happy shall I consider myself, if the earnestness 
 of my language should tend, in however small 
 a degree, to rouse them from the sullen lethargy 
 into which they appear to have fallen, ever 
 since the conclusion of the last peace, and 
 induce them to turn their serious attention to 
 the present alarming situation of the European 
 dominions. 
 
 Up to that period, in what a different point 
 of view was the Cabinet of St. James’s consider¬ 
 ed by the people of the Continent! But, a fatal 
 
 verer of the New World, was a native of the Republic of Genoa. 
 He died at Valladolid, in 1506, and, by the direction of the 
 King of Spain, was magnificently buried in the cathedral of 
 Seville, and a tomb erected over him with this incription : 
 “ A Castilia y a Leon nuevo mondo dio Colon —Columbus 
 has given a new world to Castile and Leon.” 
 
VENICE. 
 
 5 
 
 thirst for conquest has, alas! destroyed the 
 happy harmony which once subsisted between 
 the several powers of Europe. The transitions 
 have been too vivid, the extremes too violent. 
 Throughout, there has been an obvious absence 
 of what political painters would call the chiar’ 
 oscuro, the due admixture of great with small 
 states ; the generous blending of minor with 
 large powers, which is indispensable to the for¬ 
 mation of that true equilibrium, which, for ages, 
 had served as a city of refuge, and a tower of 
 safety, to all and every member of the great 
 European family, alike against external assailants 
 and domestic traitors. 
 
 The first infractions of that admirable league 
 are, most probably, to be looked for in the 
 earlier encroachments upon the rights and 
 liberties of the people of Poland—encroachments 
 which, as the brave Kosciusko w'as accustomed 
 to observe, spread with amazing effect their 
 vulture wings, both in and beyond Europe; and 
 gave rise to the loss of America, the invasion of 
 the Netherlands, the French revolution, the 
 revolution of Spanish America, of Spain herself, 
 and of Portugal; together with the long list of 
 fatal calamities with which the world has been 
 afflicted, and those which may still await us ; 
 thereby awfully realizing the forebodings of 
 
 b 3 
 
6 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 the immortal Pitt, when contending, not for a 
 partial re-instatement of things, but for the 
 status quo , whole and entire, unqualified and 
 unbroken. 
 
 But, it is time for me to return to the Vene¬ 
 tians. And, in earnestly recommending that 
 wise and beneficent people to the fostering 
 regard of Great Britain, I feel that I am only 
 acquitting myself of a duty incumbent on every 
 one who may have had the happiness of residing 
 amongst, and of becoming intimately acquainted 
 with them. 
 
 As a stupendous monument of human skill and 
 industry, the city of Venice was calculated to 
 have secured to herself the protection of the 
 sovereigns of Europe. Rising out of the waves, 
 like the Goddess of Smiles and Graces, and 
 enriched with the gems of Orient, she dazzles 
 the beholder; who involuntarily exclaims, 
 “ Surely a more appropriate symbol of com¬ 
 mercial advantages can no where be found !” 
 For centuries was Venice distinguished as the 
 only maritime city in Europe, affording a shelter 
 to vessels infected with the plague, even when 
 driven away from other ports; and thus were 
 mariners without number snatched from the 
 jaws of death, and millions upon millions of 
 property rescued from the watery deep. 
 
VENICE. 
 
 7 
 
 True nobility of mind, when thus united 
 to vast political advantages, forms assuredly 
 that precise species of merit, which is the least 
 questionable in the eyes of society. Indeed, 
 the Venetian polity, as history amply bears 
 testimony, was no less sagaciously calculated to 
 neutralize the inroads of popular fury and revo¬ 
 lutionary adventure, than the firm pediments 
 and massy bulwarks of their city to withstand 
 the ragings of the pitiless ocean. As, amidst 
 the latter, her fair towers were seen rising in 
 pride and glory, so were the interests of the 
 Republic found flourishing with the former. 
 
 The melancholy fate of the unfortunate Ve¬ 
 netians may, indeed, be placed on the list of 
 parricides; a destiny which, alas, but too com¬ 
 pletely exalts Palma (who painted the day of 
 judgment in their senate-house) to the rank of 
 a prophet. But, what exposes still further this 
 infatuation, on the part of the European powers, 
 is the re-instatement of all the petty princes of 
 Italy in their dominions; no portion of which 
 dominions is of any importance to England, 
 with the single exception of the port of Leghorn. 
 In the name of common sense, then, why should 
 Venice and Genoa, the staunch friends of Eng¬ 
 land and of commerce, be singled out for de¬ 
 struction, and condemned to the most abject 
 
 b 4 
 
8 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 thraldom; while Tuscany, Parma; Modena, 
 Lucca, and other minor states, are left in peace¬ 
 able possession of their former privileges, al¬ 
 though of inferior importance, even when com¬ 
 bined, to the Venetian territory alone ? 
 
 It is therefore evident, I think, that Venice 
 and Genoa should be restored to their former 
 independent condition. In which event, they 
 would become depositories for British manu¬ 
 factures, and promote their circulation through¬ 
 out the surrounding districts, in preference to 
 the manufactures of powers less mercantile, 
 and therefore less able to atford them equal 
 advantages. 
 
 But, at present, what is the condition of 
 Italy ? A total stagnation of commerce ! general 
 misery! And, with regard to the two great 
 maritime cities in question, such has been the 
 rapidity of their decline, that they are mere 
 squalid skeletons of their former selves; pre¬ 
 senting lamentable and striking instances of the 
 instability of earthly grandeur. Splendid palaces 
 falling into decay; magnificent temples de¬ 
 serted ; and their once opulent inmates reduced 
 to very poverty and rags, and wandering up and 
 down, destitute even of the common necessaries 
 of life! In fine, misery the most abject, ruin 
 the most complete, is apparent on every side; 
 
VENICE. 
 
 0 
 
 with the solitary exception of those dens of 
 usury, the hideous tenants of which are seen 
 battening in the midst of desolation and de¬ 
 struction. 
 
 In free ports, speculation proceeds with 
 energy. In the event, therefore, of the Ligurian 
 and Adriatic commonwealths resuming the atti¬ 
 tude which they presented in the good old times 
 alluded to in the British Parliament by Lord 
 Grenville, the friend and colleague of Pitt, I 
 would venture to propose Leghorn and Trieste, 
 as fit models for imitation. Neither, unless, 
 crouching as it were to Napoleon’s plans for 
 shutting us out of the Continent, we are afraid 
 of extending our views beyond an intercourse 
 with a few islands, can I see any reason why 
 we should longer withhold our assistance to 
 suffering humanity; or delay to extend, like 
 wise politicians, our own inexhaustible resources. 
 
 To say the truth, the calamities which have 
 been occasioned by war, can alone be com¬ 
 pletely repaired, by the introduction of a just 
 and liberal commercial code, calculated for the 
 whole of Europe; and, in the arrangement and 
 settling of which code, Great Britain, wealthy 
 and powerful as she is, ought to take a prin¬ 
 cipal part. At present, the most shameful pro¬ 
 hibitions are enforced at Venice, against all 
 
10 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 merchandize coming from England. In such 
 dread are these same manufactures of ours 
 held by the German impiegati, that, at first 
 sight, one would almost fancy them to be satu¬ 
 rated with the elements of contagion. And, in 
 a certain sense, they may, by comparison, be 
 said to be so; for I am well convinced, that no 
 manufactures, either for quality or price, can 
 be brought into competition with those which 
 this country is able to supply. Not a servant 
 girl in England would put on the coarse dresses 
 worn, during the morning, by the ladies through¬ 
 out the German dominions. No wonder, then, 
 that British goods should be excluded as much 
 as possible. The old adage, that “ comparisons 
 are odious,” is here completely applicable; for 
 I can hardly name an article of manufacture to 
 which what I have been urging does not apply. 
 So decidedly superior are all the productions 
 which we are in the habit of exporting. 
 
 Napoleon over-reached himself in many in¬ 
 stances ; but in none more completely than by 
 the enactment ot his famous decrees against 
 , British commerce. For, however much a war 
 of a political character may be unpopular with 
 the people of England, an appeal to arms in 
 defence of their commerce, has uniformly been 
 a favourite with them. The C orsican s man- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 11 
 
 dates from Berlin and Milan were, therefore, in 
 every point of view, injudicious. 
 
 Great indeed is the influence of Austria 
 throughout Italy. Ever since the year 1815, 
 that influence has been spreading with a fearful 
 rapidity, which ought to have roused the atten¬ 
 tion of the reflecting portion of Europe. In 
 addition to her dominions in Lombardy, with 
 the exception of the poor Ionian Islands, she is 
 in possession of the whole of the Venetian 
 States, together with Istria and Dalmatia, coun¬ 
 tries which, time out of mind, have been the 
 nurseries of the most skilful mariners, and the 
 bravest soldiers in Europe; producing, too, 
 such excellent timber for ship-building, and 
 such capital masts, that Buonaparte directed 
 a supply of them to be conveyed to Toulon, 
 Brest, and the other sea-ports of France. 
 
 At the present moment, the two-headed eagle 
 bears sway throughout the whole country, from 
 the confines of Savoy, sweeping through the 
 Neapolitan kingdom, back to the hereditary 
 empire. However favourably the conduct of 
 Austria may have been regarded by the unwary 
 portion of the world, who, looking only at one 
 head of the imperial bird, have permitted her 
 progress without suspicion, her formidable alli¬ 
 ance with Russia, Prussia, and all the German 
 
12 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 States, with the exception of Bavaria, ought to 
 rouse the jealousy of every one of the powers 
 concerned. Without respect to persons, the 
 designs of inordinate cupidity should be checked; 
 the career of excessive encroachments should be 
 arrested. 
 
 To advert, for a moment, to the invasion of 
 Spain by France. With what grace can England 
 interfere in behalf either of Spain or her colo¬ 
 nies, if she refuse to assist in the rescue of 
 Piedmont and Naples from the grasp of Austria ? 
 But, expediency is the politician’s plea; and 
 “ expediency” is certainly a very imposing ex¬ 
 pression. It is irresistibly urgent; and every 
 way competent, in its bearings on the stage of 
 ambition, to make the actors oppose or submit, 
 advance or recede, assist or abandon. It can 
 palliate crimes, however atrocious. It can blur 
 the virtue of heroes. It can on one day per¬ 
 petrate deeds the most foul and ignominious ; 
 and, on another, perform achievements the 
 most noble and praiseworthy. 
 
 Call upon politicians to perform their pro¬ 
 mises on the morrow,—and a future indefinite 
 period is fixed on. Indeed, I may venture to say, 
 from sad experience, that the moment of per¬ 
 formance will never arrive. For, if they really 
 intended to put their promises into execution, 
 
VENICE. 
 
 13 
 
 hope, the medicine of the miserable, would not 
 be uniformly administered ; or, at all events, 
 the accomplishment would follow close upon 
 the heels of the promise. When, too, the 
 service is actually rendered, it bears no 
 proportion with the expectations raised, and 
 will have resulted from intermediate causes, 
 novel and unlooked-for at the time of the 
 flattering proffer. Politicians delude but too 
 frequently. The sweets of idle words are gene¬ 
 rally as fatal to the hungry expectant, as honey 
 is to flies. But, besides this, there is a blunt 
 and rude demeanour, which craft can assume— 
 a vinegar calculated to render palatable the 
 nauseous food—a sort of sham ignorance, a 
 pretended want of experience, an affected 
 aukwardness, the sharper in the peasant’s frock, 
 the hyena in the fable ;—a mode of deception 
 this, the most pernicious to the world at large. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Transactions relating to Venice at Campo Formio......Fall of 
 
 the Venetian Republic . Its Causes . Buonapartes 
 
 burning Decrees against British Merchandize . Conse¬ 
 
 quences of the Prohibitory System. 
 
 While the Venetian noble Giusti, and the 
 late Secretary Orazio Lavezzari, were engaged 
 at Campo Formio, for the restoration of the 
 affairs of the Venetian Republic, and during 
 the residence of Grimani at Vienna as her ac¬ 
 credited ambassador, under the sanction of 
 Buonaparte, transactions involving her total 
 ruin were in preparation. A variety of spe¬ 
 cious pretences, usual on such occasions, were 
 resorted to, to gloss over and extenuate the 
 disgraceful negOciation. Amongst other things, 
 it was intimated, that Austria was to give up 
 Italy at the general peace ; and especially, that 
 the Venetian power was to be re-established. 
 And, in this manner, through the mingled guile 
 and ferocity exerted on the one hand, and the 
 hardened inveteracy, of a depraved appetite 
 on the other, the venerable Venetian Republic 
 
VENICE. 
 
 15 
 
 expired without a groan. A paralysis seized 
 on the whole fabric of her government. No 
 blood was shed, not a wound was inflicted, at 
 her last struggle. The people and the senate 
 were alike benumbed by the force of their 
 terrors ; and, spaniel-like, they fawned at the 
 feet of the Gallic tiger. It was a spectacle at 
 once calculated to excite contempt and pity ; 
 and strikingly evinced the close contiguity that 
 sometimes exists between the two extremes. 
 One tyrant, Attila, the foe to tranquillity and 
 happiness, forced the ancient Heneti, or Veneti, 
 to take refuge in the Lagunes : another tyrant, 
 many centuries after, crushes them in his fiend¬ 
 like embraces. Out of the sensation of alarm, 
 the Venetian power first started; and, from a 
 similar lapse into consternation, and a supine 
 abandonment of the ordinary resources of a 
 government, it at last fell. 
 
 Several individuals have, I am aware, been 
 suspected of treachery ; but, imputations of this 
 kind will, I am confident, have no weight with 
 persons accustomed to reflect, and to judge for 
 themselves. Is it at all probable, that the Vene¬ 
 tian Senate, whose boasted policy it uniformly 
 was to invest no individual with extraordinary 
 responsibility, would, at a crisis so momentous, 
 deposit an extreme plenitude of power in the 
 
16 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 hands of any particular delegate ? That Buona¬ 
 parte endeavoured to win over to his side some 
 of the nobles is highly probable; but, that a 
 single man among them was sincerely his friend, 
 I can never believe. No, no! the excellent 
 Venetians had no traitors among them, but 
 sluggishness and moral prostration, at a period 
 of considerable excitement in the world of in- 
 tellect, and when the fires of revolution were 
 blazing throughout Europe. Closing their eyes 
 against the impending tempest—for aVenetian 
 seldom looked into a book—they were at a loss 
 how to act, when it at length reached their 
 sea-girt city. 
 
 On the arrival of foreigners at Venice, a 
 voluptuous train of diversions, unaccompanied 
 with any remarkable tokens of manly energy, 
 principally attracted their attention. Had a 
 well-appointed army of brave and faithful 
 Sclavonians—a race at all times strongly at¬ 
 tached to the Republic—been kept up and 
 occasionally reviewed ; had but a small sprink¬ 
 ling of the martial elements obtained a footing 
 amidst the Paphian amusements of the city, a 
 far different fate would, in all probability, have 
 befallen the Venetians. 
 
 Presaging, from the decrepitude of the Re¬ 
 public, and its sluggish aversion to every thing 
 
VENICE. 
 
 17 
 
 military, the great Lord Chesterfield foretold, 
 that they would one day become the easy prey 
 of the first armed potentate who should think 
 fit to attack them. When the French Revolu¬ 
 tion broke out, in so degraded a light was the 
 military profession viewed by the Venetians, 
 that “ Signor Ufficiale ,” mister officer, was ac¬ 
 tually a term of reproach and utter contempt. 
 At that period, a noble Venetian would no more 
 think of sending, or of accepting a challenge, 
 than a general would think of having a tilting 
 bout with a subaltern, an admiral with one of his 
 midshipmen, or a member of parliament with 
 his own valet-de-chambre. If an English gen¬ 
 tleman in a crowd had happened to jostle a 
 Venetian Don, and a quarrel ensued, the lat¬ 
 ter, in answer to a challenge, would merely 
 desire the former to go about his business, after 
 calling him “ un* elefanto !” At present, how¬ 
 ever, things are somewhat different; and well 
 attested instances are not rare, in which the 
 youthful descendants of the Venetian Peers 
 have displayed a courage and a magnanimity 
 of character, worthy of the best days of the 
 Republic. 
 
 In all ages, the Venetians have been dis¬ 
 tinguished for an over-cautious policy—a quality 
 which is necessarily unfriendly to the growth 
 
 VOL. i. c 
 
18 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 of true courage. A governor of men may not in¬ 
 aptly be compared to a palqfreniere , or groom of 
 the stable. The over-cautious gentry of whom 
 I am speaking resorted too much to ordinances, 
 serving as curbs, snaffles, and bits, which de¬ 
 prived the noble animal of that due portion of 
 mettle, which was actually necessary to render 
 him useful, Not that I am, by any means, an 
 advocate for that rude barbarism, which, after a 
 short effort, sinks back into listlessness ; but 
 rather that Roman union of intellect with moral 
 refinement and intrepidity. 
 
 As for the stigma cast on the Fine Arts, 
 imputing to them a direct tendency to sensual 
 irregularities, like many other subterfuges of 
 depraved understandings, false in one instance, 
 it is generally erroneous in every other. The 
 subversion of kingdoms is occasioned by vice; 
 and never by the introduction of the elegant 
 arts, which uniformly tread in the footsteps of 
 nature. No one, possessing a grain of common 
 sense, can be made to believe, that political 
 decline can be compatible with an approxima¬ 
 tion to Nature, every property of which is firm, 
 continuous, and enduring; 
 
 “ Unerring Nature, still divinely bright, 
 
 “ One clear, unchang'd, and universal light!” 
 
 But, more of this hereafter. 
 
VENICE. 
 
 19 
 
 Now, if we turn our view but a few years 
 back, we shall find, that the mighty empire of 
 Austria had so far dwindled before the arms of 
 Napoleon, that Francis condescended to ac¬ 
 knowledge that he held it in vassalage; thereby 
 retrograding, as it were, at least seventy years. 
 The Corsican compelled him to assume the 
 title of Francis the First; a title which had 
 been already borne by the husband of Maria 
 Theresa, so far back as the year 1745. Although 
 Buonaparte had made numerous Kings, whom 
 he held in a state of abject subjection, Francis 
 was his first Emperor ; and the frail tenure of 
 their power, and their tame submission to the 
 fiat of the Gallic Chief, may be gathered from 
 the far-famed decrees which he issued from 
 Berlin and Milan, ordaining the destruction by 
 fire of British merchandize, of whatever des¬ 
 cription, not only immediately throughout his 
 own dominions, but, by implication, in every 
 country dependent upon him. Like the Grand 
 Signior, he had only to send about the silken 
 cord—the Turk’s hint; a sort of Irish insinua¬ 
 tion, not easily to be misunderstood, and which 
 was everv where attended to. But, what was 
 
 •f 
 
 the ultimate effect of this measure ? Why this : 
 it inspired Great Britain with redoubled strength; 
 and accordingly, unaided by the rest of Europe, 
 
 c 2 
 
20 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 single-handed she overturned the plans which 
 had been laid for her destruction ; and, instead 
 of sinking in the tremendous conflict, she over¬ 
 whelmed her opponents, and rose, like another 
 phoenix, out of the ashes. 
 
 So much for Buonaparte’s burning system : 
 the sole effect of which was, to kindle the fire 
 of the British lion. Whenever the French ruler 
 wished to draw money out of the pockets of 
 his subjects—whose hatred of the English nation 
 he always took especial care to excite—he had 
 only to say that it was wanted for the purpose 
 of attacking us, and the necessary supplies were 
 immediately forthcoming. So great was the 
 animosity against this country, which at that 
 time rankled in the bosoms of our opposite 
 neighbours! And, that animosity, I am sorry to 
 say, still subsists: cambiatoil maestro di capella , 
 ma la musica e sempre quella ,”—the ruler is 
 changed, but the system continues the same. 
 It was, however, the rock on which Napoleon’s 
 greatness at last foundered. To British per¬ 
 severance, then, in the contest, do the mo- 
 narchs of Europe, yclept “ legitimate,” owe, in 
 no small degree, their salvation. And, what 
 is the return they have made us ? They have 
 persevered in the prohibitory system, to the 
 great injury of their own subjects. Instead of 
 
VENICE. 
 
 21 
 
 conformingthemselves to the obligations imposed 
 on regular sovereigns, bound to consult wise 
 counsellors and to adopt salutary laws, they have 
 chosen to walk in the footsteps of a lawless 
 military chief. An inconsistency this, which is 
 past comprehension ! 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Buonapartes Plansfor the Establishment of his Power . His 
 
 Vandalic Mutilations of Public Edifices at Venice, and 
 elsewhere His Judicial Code And Schemes of Govern¬ 
 ment . His Conference, efter the Battle of Austerlitz, with 
 
 the Monarchs of Russia and Prussia . Rflections on his 
 
 Downfall . Short-sighted Policy of the Holy Alliance, 
 
 exemplified in their Conduct towards the People of Italy, and 
 especially towards the Venetians . A short Fable. 
 
 Had Buonaparte continued to reign, every 
 vestige of popular commotion would have been 
 obliterated, and every record of revolutionary 
 tumult would have been destroyed. The prisons, 
 of which the world has heard such shocking 
 descriptions, no longer exist. Napoleon had 
 determined never to enter the walls of the same 
 dungeon, in which the unfortunate Louis and his 
 
 c 3 
 
22 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 family had been incarcerated. The prison of 
 the Temple, therefore, has disappeared from 
 the face of the earth. At Lyons, too, the ruins 
 occasioned by intestine war have been cleared 
 away, and a magnificent square has been erected 
 on the spot. Many other alterations took place 
 under his direction; evidently for the purpose of 
 obliterating the remembrance of popular devas¬ 
 tations, committed during the levelling period 
 which had so recently gone by. Nor are these 
 traces of his ingenuity, as a despot of the most 
 ambitious and selfish description, confined to 
 Trance alone. Proofs of his determination to 
 work an entire change in the face of things are 
 even more striking in other countries. At 
 Venice, for instance, he caused every symbol 
 of the old regime to be effaced, dhe Winged 
 Horse of that once famous Republic he ordered 
 to be obliterated, however destructive such re¬ 
 moval might be to architectural symmetry. 
 Selfish and envious, he could not brook a com¬ 
 petitor ; and, wherever he found himself unable 
 to equal or surpass some existing structure, in 
 his headlong rage for singularity and fame, he 
 would tarnish its lustre and deface its beauty. 
 
 To some of my readers these strictures may 
 appear invidious. But, truth is the guide of my 
 pen; and, to prove the correctness of my 
 
VENICE. 
 
 23 
 
 position, I refer them to the once magnificent 
 Piazza di San Marco , at Venice, which has 
 been totally disfigured by the wing which Na¬ 
 poleon caused to be added thereto, during his 
 occupancy of Italy, no doubt with the ostensible 
 object of completing that square, and of thereby 
 holding himself up as the projector and finisher 
 of public works, which no mortal but himself 
 was capable of setting about. Other instances 
 of his pruriency for undertakings of this sort 
 are to be found in the Louvre , and in the Duomo, 
 or cathedral, of Milan. His completion, how¬ 
 ever, of the opposite wing of the former, and of 
 the facade of the latter, afford but miserable 
 specimens of the taste of the French Emperor; 
 or rather, perhaps, the taste of his architect. 
 
 Buonaparte’s Vandalic mutilations at Venice 
 have been sadly repaid to his manes. Not a 
 whit more of his marmorean—lignean—metallic, 
 constructions, bearing his name, and titles, and 
 personal emblems, are at this moment to be 
 seen in any corner of his once boundless empire, 
 than if “Napoleon le Grand ” had never existed. 
 Sic transit gloria mundi! What one man can 
 raise up, another can pull down. God only is 
 omnipotent, and His works-eternal. The Romans, 
 in the zenith of their glory, set about every 
 public measure under the mgis of augury. At 
 
 c 4 
 
VENICE. 
 
 24 
 
 least, they endeavoured, to the best of their 
 abilities, to find out the exact moment and the 
 precise manner of setting about the undertaking; 
 and the surest test of their sincerity is perhaps 
 to be found, in the success with which their 
 exertions were usually crowned. We know 
 they were occasionally cruel and unjust : but, 
 in their general conduct and character, we dis¬ 
 cover a sincere reverence for the Gods. Of the 
 grandeur, the correct judgment, and the pure 
 taste of the ancient Romans, the best proofs 
 extant, or those which at least are as good as 
 any other, are the remains of their public 
 edifices; their forms, the object with which 
 they were erected, and the uses to which they 
 were applied. Now, in the name of common 
 sense, why place a triumphal arch, intended to 
 resemble the memorials, always erected on the 
 public ways, in honour of the Latin victors, in 
 the centre of a square, and under which no one 
 passes? And yet this blunder has Napoleon 
 committed in the Place du Carousel. To build 
 churches, raise palaces, and enact laws, are 
 matters of no rare occurrence. In the con¬ 
 struction of his code, he consulted every man, 
 throughout his vast empire, pretending to the 
 least smattering of jurisprudence. Those who 
 happened to be fond of law, he was determined 
 
VENICE. 
 
 25 
 
 to supply to their very hearts’ content. But, if 
 we may form an opinion from the results, no ho¬ 
 nours can be fairly awarded to the Gallic chief. 
 Failing ultimately in all his projects, he has no 
 claim, as an individual, to the extraordinary 
 political sagacity which has been attributed to 
 him, since his overthrow, by the very persons, 
 probably, who were the most anxious to run 
 down his talents while prosperity was every 
 where the attendant of his career. As in his 
 architectural undertakings he shewed himself a 
 barbarian, so in his schemes of government was 
 he equally unsuccessful. Religion, or the sin¬ 
 cere humiliation of the soul before the Deity, 
 was the subject which he appeared least of all 
 to have understood. After this, that the Na¬ 
 poleon system of ethics should be held up as 
 a model worthy of imitation, and that his policy 
 should be considered the oracle for legislators, 
 are among the most extraordinary signs of the 
 present very extraordinary times! 
 
 After the battle of Austerlitz, a suspension of 
 arms was agreed upon; and a conference was 
 appointed to settle the preliminaries of peace, 
 which immediately followed between the French 
 Emperor and the monarchs of Russia and 
 Prussia. It was agreed, that the place of meet¬ 
 ing between the sovereigns should be a barge, 
 
26 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 then lying in the river, at which the three 
 monarchs were to arrive at one and the same 
 time ; not unlike the etiquette which was ob¬ 
 served between Octavius, Lepidus, and Mark 
 Antony, the execrable murderers of the im¬ 
 mortal Cicero. Buonaparte was the first who 
 entered the boat; but, the Emperor of Russia 
 venturing to take the precedency of the Mame¬ 
 luke, the well-known constant attendant and 
 salva guardia of Napoleon, the little man in¬ 
 stantly turned round, and darted one of his 
 Corsican looks at the Emperor of Russia and 
 King of Prussia, intimating that it was his 
 pleasure that this Asiatic slave should enter 
 first. Necessitas non habet legem. There was 
 no retreating. The Monarchs took the hint, and 
 actually followed in the rear of the Mameluke ! 
 
 For sovereigns who could thus sacrifice their 
 private feelings to the good of their subjects, I 
 am disposed to entertain all due respect; and I 
 have only recorded the fact, for the sake of 
 shewing the world to what a pitch of degrada¬ 
 tion these royal personages had arrived, pre¬ 
 viously to the conclusion of the wished-for 
 peace. Where, then, is the man who must not 
 rejoice at the downfall of a mountebank upstart, 
 who could so far forget the respect which is 
 ever due to fallen majesty, as to compel those 
 
VENICE. 
 
 27 
 
 sovereigns to follow in the train of a contemp¬ 
 tible slave? After this, what right had Buona¬ 
 parte, when, in consequence of the battle of 
 Waterloo, he was forced to surrender himself to 
 the nation which he had so often stigmatized as 
 a nest of pirates, to expect that any sympathy 
 should be shown towards him ? Truly, the 
 meanness of this man in adversity, was only 
 equalled by his unbounded arrogance in pros¬ 
 perity ! 
 
 It has been asserted, by those who were in his 
 immediate confidence, that when informed that 
 it was Wellington who had for ever annihilated 
 his power, and not Blucher—for whom he enter¬ 
 tained a deadly hatred—tears involuntarily 
 gushed from those eyes, which, unmoved, had 
 beheld the massacre of the poor Venetians at 
 Verona; the murder of Pichegru, D’Enghien, 
 and Captain Wright; the arrest of the innocent 
 * * *, who was obliged to flee to Malta ; and 
 the ruinous process against her husband, be¬ 
 cause she would not consent to become a spy 
 upon England, her native country. Had he 
 not been guilty of enormities like these, to¬ 
 gether with the treacherous sale of the Venetian 
 Republic, at the very moment that his army was 
 preserved form starvation by its government; 
 and the barbarous murder, in cold blood, of the 
 
VENICE. 
 
 28 
 
 Count Augustin Di Verita and others at Verona; 
 he never would have been doomed, by a gene¬ 
 rous nation, to end his days on the barren 
 rock of St. Helena. 
 
 True courage is ever magnanimous. In 
 modern times, however, it is too much a mere 
 word ,—vox et prceterea nihil . The brave man 
 may be conquered, but he will never so far 
 degrade himself as to kiss the feet of his 
 conqueror. Galgacus was never more a prince— 
 and a British prince, too—than when he was 
 standing in chains before the Roman Emperor. 
 
 To return, however, to the Sovereigns. It is 
 impossible to divest one’s-self of the conviction, 
 that it is to the timidity of their ministers, and 
 not to the peril of enterprize — to their narrow¬ 
 minded policy, and not to the extensiveness of 
 their views—that we are to attribute the warlike 
 aspect which Europe will most likely shortly be 
 obliged to assume, from their neutral conduct 
 towards the infidel oppressors of Greek civili¬ 
 zation and of the Christian religion, as well as 
 their unrighteous interference against the praise¬ 
 worthy Spaniards; who, actuated by far different 
 principles, have won over the majority of civi¬ 
 lized nations to their interest. For the very sub¬ 
 jects of those Sovereigns, who are now actually 
 engaged in suppressing national liberty and in- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 29 
 
 dependence, will themselves one day step for¬ 
 ward, to assist in the general emancipation from 
 human slavery. 
 
 At once ignorant, bigotted, feeble, and in 
 continual dread of the natural progress of free¬ 
 dom, the mis-named Holy Alliance are combin¬ 
 ing—most un-holily and most sacrilegiously— 
 to effect the overthrow of all liberal thinking. 
 Impolitically fancying, that a state of freedom 
 is incompatible with the safety of their thrones, 
 they are for strangling the infant in its cradle; 
 well aware that they would hereafter be obliged 
 to crouch to its manhood. But liberty, like 
 wisdom, proceeding from the head of the 
 Thunderer, comes forth arrayed cap a pied. 
 Her power is irresistible ; her influence univer¬ 
 sal. Her voice, therefore, will be heard, and 
 her dictates obeyed; when the short-sighted 
 and narrow-minded mortals who would arraign 
 her at the bar of despotic prejudices shall have 
 sunk into oblivion, or be only recollected with 
 sensations of pity and contempt. 
 
 The necessity which exists for a full partici¬ 
 pation in the enjoyment of that inestimable 
 blessing, will strikingly appear, from a faithful 
 detail of proceedings which have, from the 
 foolish and mistaken policy of its several go¬ 
 vernments, been carrying on against the free- 
 
30 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 born subjects of Italy, and, in particular, against 
 the Venetians. 
 
 Her peculiar position, and fourteen years 
 of uninterrupted experience, sufficiently shew, 
 that Venice can alone be prosperous, under a 
 government congenial to her soil and local si¬ 
 tuation. Nor can she prove of any, but of tem¬ 
 porary and fleeting advantage, to the barbarism 
 of the usurper, who would batten on the spoils of 
 native genius, to the total extinguishment of the 
 immortal motives, which gave birth to her pri¬ 
 mitive attachment to liberty and independence. 
 
 It is well known, that seeds which are prolific 
 in one soil, often turn out unproductive when 
 sown in another. So it is with governments. 
 That which is best calculated for the happiness 
 of one race of men, may prove altogether un¬ 
 friendly to the well-being of another. The 
 prosperity of a country may depend, as much 
 on the disposition of its inhabitants, as on the 
 wisdom of its laws; which must be adapted to 
 the climate, the soil, and the general habits of 
 the people who are to be governed by them. 
 Now, the Venetians differ as widely in dis¬ 
 position, in manners, and in customs, from every 
 other race of beings, as the element on which 
 their city stands differs from the air. They may 
 be compared to that sagacious creature, the 
 
VENICE. 
 
 31 
 
 amphibious beaver. The policy which ever 
 governed their intercourse with neighbouring 
 and foreign nations, far exceeds the policy 
 which generally actuates statesmen. Those 
 who have had the opportunity of attentively 
 observing, or inquiring into, the conduct of this 
 very extraordinary people, will acknowledge 
 that my description of them is not exaggerated, 
 and proceeds from careful observation, during 
 a long residence in the country, and from that 
 free and unrestrained intercourse with every 
 class of its inhabitants, from which alone ge¬ 
 nuine experience can be acquired. 
 
 In my humble opinion, the first considerations 
 of a government bearing sway over a newly 
 acquired territory, ought to be directed to the 
 general character of its people, as well as to its 
 soil,, climate, and element; by an attention to 
 which, much care and inconvenience would be 
 avoided by its governors, and an incalculable 
 degree of dissatisfaction and irritation would be 
 spared to the people about to be governed. 
 
 Is there on earth a law which justifies, either 
 the aggressions which have been made on Ita¬ 
 lian independence, with the connivance of the 
 Holy Alliance, or the more recent conduct of 
 France towards Spain ? It requires neither the 
 aid of a microscope, nor the wisdom of a Plato, 
 
32 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 nor the sagacity of a British statesman of the 
 old school, to discover, that when the Austrians 
 crossed the Po, to take an unprincipled posses¬ 
 sion of Naples, they had, both in their rear and 
 flank, their most powerful enemies j and that, 
 had the Neapolitans been commanded by men, 
 instead of automata, they would have given them 
 sufficient occupation. 
 
 Genoa and Piedmont had declared themselves 
 in favour of the same cause; and the Milanese 
 only waited for a favourable movement, to join 
 against the common enemy. If Austria had 
 been so far worsted as to have been under the 
 necessity of adding another to her numerous 
 retrograde movements, the emancipation of Italy 
 would have been ensured, and the total des¬ 
 truction of the invading army would have been 
 the consequence. 
 
 As my work is of a miscellaneous description, 
 that I may not fatigue the reader with too long 
 a detail of the transactions which distinguish, as 
 much as they disgrace, the nineteenth century, 
 let me here withdraw his attention, for a moment, 
 from the melancholy narrative, and introduce a 
 short fable, which will be found extremely ap¬ 
 plicable to a certain event which has taken place 
 in the American seas, at the instigation of one 
 of the Northern powers; and the proceeding 
 
VENICE. 
 
 33 
 
 » 
 
 which will, most probably, take place on the part 
 of other branches of the Holy Alliance. 
 
 An old rat, who had long been on the watch 
 for the unpacking of a case of provisions, which 
 she intended to appropriate to her own use, 
 summoned together a congress of voracious 
 animals of her own kidney. Being assembled, 
 she harangued them most philanthropically, 
 and expressed her unbounded zeal for the 
 general welfare. She solemnly assured them, 
 that she entertained no selfish wish to partici¬ 
 pate in the common spoils, but was solely 
 anxious to co-operate in bringing about such a 
 reform as the times demanded; and that, such 
 being the case, she should withdraw from the 
 busy world, and claim no more, for her share, 
 than what was barely necessary to supply the 
 cravings of nature. Having concluded her 
 harangue, she retired. One of the conclave, 
 however, less credulous than the rest, followed 
 on tip-toe the disinterested member of the long¬ 
 tailed sisterhood ; when, lo ! instead of putting 
 in practice her boasted moderation, she was 
 found snugly nestled in the middle of a huge 
 Westphalia ham ! I leave my reader to draw his 
 own inference ; only observing, that Russian rats 
 are reported to have an amazing attachment to 
 Indian crackers ; Austrian rats to Swiss gru- 
 
 vol. r. 
 
 D 
 
34 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 yere; French rats to Parmasan ; and English 
 rats to Stracchino—e questo e vero, perche 
 straccano tiitto il mondo, prima di comminciare 
 le loro operazioni. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Oppressed Condition of the Venetians . State of the Laws 
 
 framed for them by Planzit, the soi-disant Solon . The 
 
 Criminal Courts . Ignorance of the Judges . The Civil 
 
 Courts . The Court of Appeal . Delay of Justice . 
 
 Laws relating to Landlord and Tenant . Austrian Mode 
 
 O 
 
 of collecting the Revenue .. Severity of the Tax-gatherers 
 
 . Mode of farming the Taxes to Middle Men . De¬ 
 pressed State of Agricultural Produce Debased Condition 
 
 of the Currency. 
 
 To return to the present condition of Venice, 
 and her miserable inhabitants. No people in 
 Europe groan under a weightier load of oppres¬ 
 sion than the Venetians. The laws by which 
 they are governed are little understood, either 
 by Plenzit, the soi-disant Solon, who framed 
 them, or by those whose duty it is to put them 
 in execution. From the many contradictions 
 with which they abound, and their innumerable 
 violations of common law and common sense, I 
 
V E N I C E. 
 
 35 
 
 have been informed, that the gentlemen or' the 
 bar, Germans as well as Italians, waited upon 
 the great lawgiver previously to their being 
 acted upon, and solicited of him, for their own 
 guidance, an explanation of the numerous ob¬ 
 scure and equivocal clauses in which they 
 abounded. The only answer they could obtain 
 from the modern Lycurgus was—“ I have drawn 
 up this code of laws. Apply but yourselves to 
 the study of them, and their intent and meaning 
 will become abundantly apparent.” 
 
 This sagacious reply recals to my recollec¬ 
 tion a certain action, which was tried, some 
 years ago, before the famous Lord Mansfield, 
 respecting some cockets. These same cockets 
 were found to be written in so miserable a hand, 
 that his Lordship directed the writer of them to 
 be sent for. When he appeared in court, the 
 learned Judge asked him, whether he was actually 
 the writer of these cockets? “ Yes, please your 
 Lordship,” said the man. “ Then,” replied the 
 Judge, “ they are so illegible, that I have sent for 
 you to explain them.”—“ I am aware of that,” 
 rejoined the scribe; “but I am only a renter 
 of cockets, my Lord, not a reader of them.” 
 So, like this sagacious cocket-writer, has Plenzit 
 left his laws unexplained and unintelligible— 
 doubtless for the more speedy redress and con- 
 
 d 2 
 
36 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 solation of the poor unfortunate Venetians, who 
 are to be nurtured with the pith and marrow of 
 these precious legislative enactments ! This 
 mutilator of the jurisprudence of the immortal 
 Justinian has been heard to declare, that he 
 could discover nothing in the Institutes of that 
 great man in the least worthy of being re¬ 
 tained. 
 
 This declaration of Mr. Solon Plenzit reminds 
 me of those gothic barbarians of the present 
 enlightened age, who modestly undertake to 
 improve and render more perfect the writings 
 of our divine Shakespeare ; and who, the better 
 to avoid a comparison of his immortal verses 
 with their own vapid and disjointed trash, 
 shrewdly take care, when they set about me¬ 
 tamorphosing one of his matchless plays into 
 a senseless and despicable opera, to expunge 
 the entire of the original. I have often won¬ 
 dered, that these impudent transformers of 
 sterling comedies into miserable burlettas, 
 should never, in their “ sway of vanity,” have 
 fancied themselves qualified to fill the rule allot¬ 
 ted to the primo buffo. 
 
 In Venice, and throughout the Venetian 
 States, all criminal proceedings are entirely 
 carried on in writing : so that a man may be 
 accused, tried, condemned, and even executed, 
 
VENICE. 
 
 37 
 
 without ever beholding the face of his judge, 
 or being confronted with his accusers. Many 
 of these judges are totally ignorant, not merely 
 of the jurisprudence, but even of the language 
 of Italy ; it being the practice at Vienna, when 
 any one of the clod-hopping gentry from the 
 Tyrole happens to come to the capital and be 
 out of employ, though he may even have been 
 a cobler, to transform him, presto , into a judge, 
 and dispatch him, in that capacity, to Venice. 
 
 If, perchance, the man happens to be honest, 
 his appearance belies his character : for he has 
 more the semblance of a culprit than the pre¬ 
 sident of a court of judicature. This, however, 
 is a misfortune, and not a crime; and is, be¬ 
 sides, of no great consequence ; seeing that 
 these Austrian dispensers of the law r , like those 
 of the Areopagus at Athens, never behold the 
 object of their deliberations.* 
 
 * In the early days of the Grecian Republic, the character 
 of its inhabitants was so strictly moral, that when the vices of * 
 
 a malefactor became publicly exposed, he showed such a 
 sense of his past errors, as to excite the compassion of the 
 judges to such a degree, as often to defeat the ends of justice. 
 
 In order to prevent this, when the increased riches and popu¬ 
 lation of the Republic increased the number of crimes, it 
 was decreed, that in all criminal trials, a curtain should be 
 drawn to separate the one from the other. The custom 
 existed in Athens in the time of Demosthenes. 
 
 D 3 
 
38 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 The civil proceedings in the Venetian States 
 are now superintended by a president of the 
 tribunal, who has eight magistrates under his 
 direction. The cases are all forwarded to him , 
 and it is his duty to distribute them to these 
 different judges, who are bound never to decide 
 on any case, unless five out of the eight should 
 be present: the number, however, very often 
 does not extend beyond three. These men act 
 in the treble capacity of advocate, judge, and 
 juror. No counsel are permitted to argue the 
 case pro or con; and the mischief is, that these 
 judges often come into court without having 
 made themselves acquainted with their briefs. 
 Many of them, as I before hinted, are actually 
 Germans, Hungarians, or Bohemians, who have 
 been sent to the Venetian States, entirely ig¬ 
 norant of the language, manners, and customs 
 of the people, amongst whom it is their duty 
 faithfully to dispense law and justice. Dispatch 
 of business depends, therefore, more on the 
 appetites of these gentry, than on their industry 
 or sense of duty: for the reader will agree 
 with me, that it would be most unreasonable to 
 expect, that a German Judge should forego his 
 dinner, for the sake of a paltry Italian law-suit! 
 
 There is, it is true, a Court of Appeal, as it 
 is called. But then, this court is too polite and 
 
VENICE. 
 
 39 
 
 too well-bred to disturb a former decision 5 and 
 therefore it makes an uniform practice never to 
 impugn, but invariably to confirm, all previous 
 judgments—unless, indeed, certain 1 weighty ar¬ 
 guments should induce them to interpose! 
 
 The wealthy client has it constantly in his 
 power to induce his judges to hasten or pro¬ 
 crastinate their decision, according to the quan¬ 
 tity and quality of the metal which is thrown 
 into the scale, for the purpose of counteracting 
 the workings of conscience, and securing a 
 favourable verdict: it being a well established 
 fact, that solid reasons of this description have 
 never been adduced, without operating the de¬ 
 sired effect. And, certainly, when we consider 
 how wretchedly these men are paid by the 
 Austrian government—if we could possibly ima¬ 
 gine an excuse for taking a bribe for the mal¬ 
 administration of justice, it would be in the case 
 of these long-eared judges. But, besides this, 
 the greatest abuses take place, from the length 
 of time which is suffered to intervene between 
 the sentence of the court and its final execu¬ 
 tion ; by which delay, even this mockery and 
 mere show of justice is defeated, from the oppor¬ 
 tunity of concealing, or of making away with his 
 effects, which it affords to the fraudulent debtor. 
 
 By the laws of Austria, no landlord can turn 
 
 d 4 
 
40 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 his tenants away from his estate, but by a three 
 years’ notice to quit, though those tenants may 
 be in arrears to him for rent, and are known to 
 be in the practice of embezzling the produce, 
 to the injury, and even utter ruin of the pro¬ 
 prietor ; since, from the non-payment of his 
 tenant, he is unable to make good his own taxes. 
 The government, however, enforces immediate 
 payment from the landlord, by selling his effects 
 for about a third of their real value ; though, by 
 law, they ought not to be disposed of under 
 less than two-thirds. But the time between 
 the seizure and the actual sale is extremely 
 short. The greedy speculator on human misery 
 takes, therefore, every advantage ; whilst the 
 agents of government, anxious to transmit to 
 the Austrian treasury all the revenue they can 
 possibly collect, sell the property for whatever 
 it will fetch, rather than retain it; lest a fall in 
 the price of the produce should render it still 
 less valuable. In this way have thousands of 
 the best patrician families, as well as many of 
 the most respectable private citizens of Venice, 
 been utterly ruined; though some of them have 
 actually been, at the time, creditors of the Aus¬ 
 trian government to a considerable amount, for 
 arrears of principal and interest of money which 
 they had lent to it! 
 
VENICE. 
 
 41 
 
 When these distressing circumstances take 
 place, the unhappy creditors apply, very natu¬ 
 rally, to the government, for a liquidation of the 
 debt due to them, to prevent the seizure and 
 sacrifice of their property. In case the govern¬ 
 ment should not be prepared to advance the 
 whole, or any part of the money it had bor¬ 
 rowed, they at least implore it to strike a 
 balance. To which the humble supplicant re¬ 
 ceives the consoling answer —solve aut arepit! 
 
 Under the Austrian sway at Venice, the 
 public taxes are usually rented out by the go¬ 
 vernment to a sort of middle men—a class of 
 persons, destitute alike of character and of pro¬ 
 perty ; but who, from the enormous exactions 
 which the government allows them to inflict on 
 the unfortunate creatures, who, from the causes 
 I have just mentioned, and the low price of 
 agricultural produce, may not be prepared to 
 make good their payments—are enabled to give 
 extravagant premiums to individuals who hap¬ 
 pen to possess unincumbered landed property; 
 which property, for these considerations, they 
 pledge to the government, in the way of gua¬ 
 rantee for the punctuality of these tax col¬ 
 lectors. 
 
 As these villainous middle men are in the 
 practice of holding out exorbitant premiums of 
 
42 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 thirty or forty per cent., many a credulous no¬ 
 bleman has fallen a victim to his own avarice, 
 and has thereby lost the whole of his substance : 
 for, at the expiration of eight days from the 
 time fixed for the paying in of these taxes to 
 the public treasury, the government seizes upon 
 the estates of the unhappy guarantee, and dis¬ 
 poses of them, without loss of time, to the best 
 bidder. 
 
 Some of these tax-gatherers have taken to 
 their heels, when they have found themselves 
 unable to collect a sufficient sum, before the 
 expiration of the two months allowed for the 
 payments. Others have contrived to make good 
 their engagements by the following device: 
 the wretched farmers, and landed proprietors, 
 when their estates are seized on for arrears of 
 taxes, in order to obtain a suspension, or indul¬ 
 gence, for a short time, are glad to make great 
 sacrifices to the local authorities, both in money 
 and effects; besides giving their land and its 
 produce, by way of security for the due fulfil¬ 
 ment of the exorbitant engagement. This in¬ 
 dulgence they are under the necessity of renew¬ 
 ing every eight or ten days, making every time 
 some fresh sacrifice. And, when at length 
 these local authorities, who are in league with 
 the tax-collectors, discover that they can no 
 
VENICE. 
 
 4 3 
 
 longer spunge upon the unhappy victims of 
 cupidity, they dispose of their effects at a mock 
 auction, for a twelfth of their value—become 
 themselves, under fictitious names, the actual 
 purchasers—sell them again for their real value 
 —fix the credulous proprietor with the gua¬ 
 rantee to government—and, finally, decamp with 
 the plunder! 
 
 When my reader considers, that agricultural 
 produce does not at present fetch, throughout 
 the Venetian States, more than a tenth part of 
 its former price, he will at once see, that it is 
 morally as well as physically impossible for the 
 people to pay the present enormous amount of 
 taxes. They are, nevertheless, now called upon, 
 when the sack of corn of four bushels sells for 
 only seven francs, to pay as much as they were 
 called upon to pay when the same quantity sold 
 for fifty francs. Every other commodity bears 
 the same proportion: for, throughout Italy, 
 corn is the standard by which the price of every 
 article is regulated, and consequently rises or 
 falls. But, though there is now this astonishing 
 difference, the government has hitherto turned 
 a deaf ear to the heart-rending complaints of its 
 miserable subjects. 
 
 At Venice, the currency chiefly consists of 
 a base metal, with which the government pays 
 
44 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 both its civil and military servants: nevertheless, 
 it will only take to the extent of a third part of 
 the public taxes in this almost valueless coin ; 
 the other two-thirds it insists upon receiving in 
 gold. And, as the revenue is collected every 
 two months, genuine specie is become a regular 
 article of speculation, and, at these stated 
 periods, is with difficulty to be procured at any 
 rate; for those who are employed in collecting 
 the taxes, make a point of monopolizing, every 
 two months, all the national money. Against 
 this there is no remedy. The decrees of the 
 government are rigidly enforced ; and in case 
 the good currency is not forthcoming, the de¬ 
 faulter has an additional five per cent, added to 
 the two-thirds of the taxes which should have 
 been paid in sterling gold. 
 
 This is the first instance, I believe, of any 
 government depreciating its credit, by thus dis¬ 
 gracefully refusing to take back its own de¬ 
 based circulating medium, in payment of taxes. 
 Heaven grant it may be the last! for it is cer¬ 
 tainly a practice 
 
 “ More honour’d in the breach, than in th’ observance." 
 
( 45 ) 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 General Character of the Venetians . Males . Females . 
 
 State of Society . Casinos . Marriages . Dress of 
 
 the Nobles in the time of the Republic . Gondolas . 
 
 Treatment of the Meretrices . The Free-Masons' Lodge 
 
 suppressed. 
 
 Generally speaking, the Venetians are gentle, 
 affable, polite, courteous, hospitable, and more 
 civilized and better informed than the inhabi¬ 
 tants of any other part of Italy. Their conver¬ 
 sation is at once entertaining and instructive. 
 The vast number of men of talent, in every art 
 and science, to which the Republic has given 
 birth, is a proof that its lakes are as abundant 
 in genius, as they are fertile in the productions 
 of their native element. To mention only a few 
 of the illustrious names who have rendered the 
 Venetian nation immortal—Titus Livius, Pe- 
 trarca, Trissino,* Algarotti, Goldoni, Titian, 
 
 * Voltaire acknowledges, that it was the perusal of the 
 writings of this great Venetian dramatist, that first induced 
 him to set about the greater part of his theatrical produc¬ 
 tions ; and especially his “ Sofonisbe,” which is little more 
 than a copy of the Italian, adapted to the French stage. 
 
4G 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Tintoretto, Paul Veronese, Palladio, Sansovino, 
 Scarlati, Buranello, Bertoni, Tartini, Canova, 
 &c. are names which, in their respective de¬ 
 partments, remain unrivalled, and will be the 
 admiration of the world, as long as mankind 
 shall continue to entertain a taste for science 
 and the tine arts. As navigators, the Venetians 
 claim the foremost rank; as warriors, they 
 stand on an equality with the bravest; and as 
 politicians, they are superior to every other 
 civilized nation in Europe. 
 
 The men are above the middle stature, rather 
 inclined to be tall, and remarkably well made. 
 They have good clear complexions, tine ex¬ 
 pressive countenances, with an elegant and easy 
 deportment. So remarkably constant are they 
 in their attachments, that it is no uncommon 
 thing to hear of friendships, between the sexes, 
 of fifty and sixty years’ standing. A Venetian 
 rarely abandons the object of his primitive affec¬ 
 tion, except for ill-treatment or infidelity; and, 
 even in those instances, he never fails to lend 
 her his assistance, should she happen to stand 
 in need of it. 
 
 The females, who, generally speaking, are 
 handsome, have very fine figures, with beauti¬ 
 fully clear skins, expressive features, and eyes 
 that penetrate the inmost recesses of the soul. 
 
VENICE. 
 
 47 
 
 They are interestingly delicate in their external 
 manners and in their language; the Venetian 
 being, of all the dialects of Italy, the most 
 agreeable. In the mouth of a genteel Donna 
 Veneziana, it adds to the native grace of her 
 carriage, and never fails to charm and delight 
 the ear of a stranger ; especially when it happens 
 to be placed in contrast with the vulgar Lom¬ 
 bardian jargon. They are remarkably attentive 
 to foreigners ; though they rarely form a tender 
 attachment for them. When, however, such an 
 attachment does take place, it is usually most 
 passionate and sincere. 
 
 The societies at Venice, whether at private 
 houses or at the public casinos, are generally 
 enlivened with the smiling eyes, and gentle and 
 fascinating looks of the fair sex, and are con¬ 
 ducted with an elegance and an ease superior 
 to most other female societies ; and without 
 any of that discordant rivalship of prerogatives, 
 too often to be met with elsewhere. The 
 casinos are conducted much in the same man¬ 
 ner as the subscription houses in London ; 
 where the members are at liberty to do as they 
 please; with this especial difference, that the 
 ladies only are subscribers, the gentlemen being 
 honorary members. Strangers of respectability, 
 of both sexes, are readily admitted, and meet 
 
48 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 with a polite anti affable reception. The com¬ 
 pany are entertained with a concert, and treated 
 with refreshments. Cards are introduced at 
 the wish of any of the party ; and other amuse¬ 
 ments, except those of hazard. These casinos 
 are furnished in the most costly and elegant 
 style, and are brilliantly lighted up with the 
 beautiful wax candles for which Venice is so 
 justly celebrated. 
 
 The regularity, the order, and the magnifi¬ 
 cence which prevail at these princely casinos, 
 at once discover the ladies of Venice to be a 
 superior race of beings to their neighbours of 
 the Terra Firma. In their conversation they are 
 lively and unaffected without levity, and com¬ 
 municative and affable without coquetry. 
 
 The uncommon share of freedom which these 
 ladies enjoy, induces foreigners, who have but 
 a superficial knowledge of them, to form an 
 opinion of them very different from that which 
 they really deserve. My observations, of course, 
 apply solely to good society. The mixed classes 
 of every country have their chiaro scuro. The 
 Venetian ladies are extremely engagingin their 
 manners; and as to their dress, it may be 
 called becoming rather than fashionable, and 
 sets off their fine figures to the greatest advan¬ 
 tage. It is not unusual for them to be married 
 
VENICE. 
 
 49 
 
 to men whom they have never before seen, 
 except through the grate of the convent in 
 which they have been educated, and which they 
 only quit to enter into the gay world, through 
 the temple of Hymen—where Cupid rarely 
 presides, beyond the honey-moon ! And, to this 
 very liberty, which they enjoy the moment they 
 are married, is it to be ascribed, that they are 
 usually not so capricious as the Italians of the 
 south, who are more rigorously subjected to 
 antiquated external formalities. 
 
 If the experience of twenty years, obtained 
 by a residence amongst, and a constant inter¬ 
 course with, the highest orders of society, can 
 justify me in hazarding an opinion, I may ven¬ 
 ture to pronounce the ladies of Venice worthy 
 of our best esteem. There is a wide difference 
 between an easy, unrestrained carriage, and that 
 looseness of conduct, which is but too apt to be 
 confounded with it. 
 
 At one period, the Venetians were so sus¬ 
 picious of their wives and daughters, that they 
 never allowed them to walk out; and, to pre¬ 
 vent their doing so, they even obliged them to 
 wear exceedingly high-heeled shoes, which, as 
 it were, suspended the foot from the toe up¬ 
 wards, raising the other extremity nearly ten 
 inches, and making it almost parallel Avith the 
 
 VOL. I. E 
 
.50 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 leg ; in consequence of which, their feet became 
 cramped like those of the Chinese. Some of 
 these shoes I have often seen, in the palace of 
 the truly estimable Madame Damula Pisani. 
 
 The usual dresses of the noble Venetians, in 
 the time of the Republic, somewhat resembled 
 the black gowns worn by our judges, having 
 ermine on one side. The robes of ceremony 
 were of crimson damask, very long; and they 
 were habited in full-powdered wigs, like those 
 worn by the gentlemen of the bar. This was 
 the usual dress of the Doge ; except on special 
 occasions, when he wore one made of gold 
 brocade, with a massy gold chain round his 
 neck, and a coronet on his head of the same 
 materials, over a wig and velvet cap. 
 
 The dress of the noble ladies was a rich black 
 velvet, according to the season, a skirt with a 
 long train, a coloured body and sleeves, and 
 a black silk veil that covered the head and 
 shoulders, was crossed on the neck and round 
 the waist, and fell tastefully behind on the 
 black skirt. It was generally trimmed with 
 black lace, and was very becoming when pro¬ 
 perly put on. Under the veil they wore a ske¬ 
 leton wire shape, to keep it from falling on the 
 face, which was called vesta e sendal. Foreigners 
 generally adopted this dress on their arrival at 
 
VENICE. 
 
 51 
 
 Venice: but few could put them on so tastily 
 as the natives. I recollect that Madame Mara, 
 when singing at Venice, always wore this dress 
 during the morning; and she was accustomed 
 to say, that she never pleased her auditors more 
 than when she was thus attired. 
 
 In church, at mass, and at all public places, 
 the ladies wore this dress. During the time of 
 the Carnival, they could never go to the theatre 
 or opera without the tabbara e bauta : which 
 was a long cloak of black or coloured silk, with 
 a black silk cap, and a laced trimming placed 
 round, nearly a yard in length, which fell over 
 the shoulders half way down their figures. Over 
 their faces they wore a mask, and on their heads 
 a man’s three-cornered hat, ornamented with 
 feathers and a cockade. But, the moment they 
 reached their boxes, the cap and mask were 
 taken off, until they left the opera; when they 
 were immediately replaced, until they had 
 passed to their gondolas. 
 
 This dress, together with the mask, were worn 
 during Carnival time, the feast of the Ascension, 
 and at some other public festivals ; which, alto¬ 
 gether, occupied nearly six months out of the 
 twelve; and only at these seasons, and in this 
 dress, were they permitted to hold converse with 
 the corps diplovuitique resident at Venice. 
 
 e 2 
 
52 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 The gondolas were all painted black, and 
 highly varnished. In the middle of this elegant 
 little vessel is a cushioned bench, for two per¬ 
 sons ; and on each side there is another, suffi¬ 
 cient to hold one person. The tilt, or awning, 
 resembles a hearse, with windows and Venetian 
 blinds. The outer part is covered with black 
 cloth, trimmed with tassels ; the inner with silk; 
 and a curtain, of the same materials as the out¬ 
 side, serves as a door of entrance. The gon¬ 
 dolas of the foreign ministers, and of other dis¬ 
 tinguished personages, had generally coloured 
 silk curtains, by which they could always be 
 distinguished from those of the Venetians. 
 
 After the conquest of the Greek Islands, Con¬ 
 stantinople, Cyprus, Candia, and the Morea, by 
 the Republic, from the vast influx of wealth and 
 luxury, and the great increase of population 
 from the Terra Firma, it became necessary, in 
 order to preserve virtuous females from violence, 
 to allot—in imitation of the ancient Romans— 
 a certain retired part of the city, for the habita¬ 
 tions of the improperly called Meretrices: and, 
 to prevent those dreadful evils, for which two 
 great cities were once destroyed by fire, the 
 Senators would walk, in the public square of 
 St. Mark, by the side of these necessary evils ; 
 who, at the approach of evening, were required 
 
VENICE. 
 
 ,53 
 
 to exhibit themselves between two lighted can¬ 
 dles, at the windows of their apartments. Under 
 the present government, the frail sisterhood are 
 licensed, and pay a regular tax ; and are per¬ 
 mitted to follow their profession —pro bono pub¬ 
 lico —wherever they think fit. 
 
 A considerable number of the casinos belong 
 exclusively to the gentlemen. The principal 
 ones are—II casino dei Nobili, il casino dei 
 Mercanti, il casino degl’ Avocati, il casino dei 
 Literati, il casino detto Cento, il casino dei 
 Filosofi, il casino Filo-dramatico, il casino Eu- 
 terpiano, il casino dei Vecchij, il casino Fil- 
 armonico, il casino dei Consoli, &c. The Free¬ 
 mason’s Lodge has been put down, and all 
 who were members thereof have been deprived 
 of their employments, and declared incapable of 
 holding any office under the Austrian govern¬ 
 ment. Many a worthy man has, in this way, 
 been deprived of his situation, without being 
 guilty of any crime. Surely the punishment 
 greatly exceeds the offence ! But, the notions 
 of princes and of individuals differ widely as to 
 these matters. The former adduce the irre¬ 
 sistible argument —du plus fort: the latter are 
 consoled by the reflection, that there is a Prince 
 of princes, and that the day of retribution, 
 sooner or later, will assuredly arrive. 
 
 e 3 
 
( S* ) 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 The Venetian Tribunals described . The Gentlemen of the 
 
 Bar . Former Greatness of Venice . Her present fallen 
 
 condition . Necessity <f dividing Italy into separate Go¬ 
 vernments . Appeal to England in behalf of Genoa and 
 
 Venice. 
 
 If, under the Venetian code of legislation, 
 justice, in some instances, happened not to be 
 obtained, it certainly was not the fault either of 
 the judges or of the tribunals ; for every branch 
 thereof was portioned out to different members, 
 who occupied themselves with the civil and 
 criminal departments, the local and external 
 police, &c. All the tribunals, the upper as well 
 as the lower, were exclusively presided over by 
 the nobles, assisted in their jurisdictions by 
 citizens who had been educated for the bar. 
 
 My reader may form some idea of the multi¬ 
 plicity of the tribunals at Venice, when I tell 
 him that they exceeded those of Paris. First, 
 there was the tribunal appointed to settle all 
 disputes relating to matters of property, and to 
 houses within the city and the neighbouring 
 
VENICE. 
 
 55 
 
 islands. Secondly : there was the petty tribunal 
 of the Procuratori, which decided on disputes 
 relating to property in the Terra Firma, the 
 guardianship of children, marriage contracts, 
 &c. Thirdly: the tribunal which settled all 
 differences subsisting between the inhabitants of 
 Venice and foreigners. Fourthly: the tribunal for 
 contested bills of exchange and promissory notes. 
 Fifthly: the tribunal for deciding upon the 
 value of household furniture, and overcharges. 
 Sixthly: the tribunal whose duty it was to super¬ 
 intend the making and repairing of the streets. 
 Seventhly : the Pioveggi, who revised contracts, 
 and settled the rate of interest to be paid for 
 money borrowed. Eighthly: the tribunal whose 
 duty it was to appoint agents, previously to the 
 seizure and sale of property, and empowering 
 those agents to put in execution the sentences of 
 the other tribunals. Ninthly : the tribunal foi 
 examining into the right of public officers to 
 make seizures ; for putting its seal on property 
 adjudged to be sold or alienated ; legacies 
 and donations by persons dying intestate, he. 
 Tenthly: there were the Prefetti degli Voti, or 
 tribunal for seeing into the due collection of 
 the taxes, and the expenses of the several tri¬ 
 bunals. The disputes that happened to arise 
 between masters and servants, were confided to 
 
 e 4 
 
56 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 separate officers and magistrates. I have en¬ 
 tered into this detail, merely to justify what I 
 have asserted, with respect to the multiplicity 
 of the Venetian tribunals. 
 
 The Venetian dialect was the only language 
 allowed to be used in all public pleadings, 
 written or oral, whether carried on at the bar 
 or in the senate, as well as in all affairs of state. 
 The solicitors and counsel, as well as every in¬ 
 dividual in their employ, were citizens of Venice, 
 and were held in consideration as men of a 
 certain rank, in all the civilized cities of Europe; 
 so that the profession formed a source of great 
 wealth, to those who distinguished themselves, 
 by devoting their talents to the service of the 
 public. Many of these lawyers, and especially 
 those who united the talent of public pleading 
 to that of giving consultations in private, made 
 immense fortunes, and died possessed of much 
 personal as well as landed property. 
 
 In strength of argument, in skill, and in 
 beauty of diction, these gentlemen were not 
 inferior to the orators of antient Greece or 
 Rome ; and greatly superior, in point of elo¬ 
 quence, to those of any other country; more 
 especially in their criminal pleadings, which 
 took place in open court. The counsel for the 
 Republic was always one of the Avogadori y 
 
VENICE. 
 
 57 
 
 who opened the case against the person accused, 
 and founded his accusations upon the facts 
 proved. He was replied to by the counsel for 
 the prisoner ; and, whenever his circumstances 
 did not enable him to retain counsel, some one 
 was always found to defend him, from among 
 the College of Advocates, supported by the Re¬ 
 public for that purpose. 
 
 It was usual to produce every thing relating 
 to the circumstances of the trial in court—such 
 as pistols, swords, and weapons of every descrip¬ 
 tion ; and both the accuser and accused were 
 accompanied to the court by their relatives and 
 friends : a custom which also prevailed, in similar 
 cases, in the antient tribunals of Greece and 
 Rome. 
 
 If this popular mode of adjudging criminal 
 matters has been abolished in many of the 
 northern nations, it has principally arisen from 
 the preponderance of ecclesiastical influence ; 
 seeing that canonical institutions, that is to say, 
 those that were devised by the Popes for the 
 Inquisition, were more familiar to the people, 
 than any other legal mode of proceeding by the 
 laity. 
 
 Two principal events deprived the Venetians 
 of the vast commercial advantages, which, for 
 centuries, they exclusively enjoyed, until they 
 
58 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 became divided with other trading nations: 
 first, the discovery of the Cape of Good Hope; 
 and, secondly, the interdiction of the nobles, by 
 the senate, from engaging in mercantile con¬ 
 cerns. Until then, Venice possessed the trade 
 of the Indies by Alexandria and the Red Sea, 
 and was the entrepot of all Europe and Asia. 
 Their commercial contemporaries were the 
 Pisanese and the Genoese; who supplied the 
 world with all those articles of merchandize 
 which have since been shared between England, 
 Holland, France, and other nations. The com¬ 
 merce which they carried on was the more 
 honourable, since it was conducted by the first 
 nobles of the state, who were governed by the 
 same generous and noble spirit that actuated 
 the Republic, in their wars, their conquests, 
 and their treaties. 
 
 “ Venezia la Ricca ,” the once beautiful, opu¬ 
 lent, and unrivalled Queen of the Sea, has, alas! 
 long since been politically blotted, as a capital, 
 out of the map of Europe, having been sacrificed 
 to Austrian cupidity, by the perfidious policy 
 of Buonaparte. That single act—that one 
 atrocious deed—independently of the murder 
 of the Duke D’Enghien, and of so many other 
 crimes of the same stamp—was alone sufficient 
 to have called down upon his head that Divine 
 
VENICE. 
 
 59 
 
 vengeance, which never fails to overtake the 
 miscreant who dares to contemn His sacred com¬ 
 mands. And, what crime, I ask, can be more 
 truly sacrilegious, than the treacherously betray¬ 
 ing an unoffending, a confiding, and an unsus¬ 
 pecting people to bondage under a foreign 
 yoke? 
 
 The Venetian states, with Istria, Dalmatia, 
 and the Milanese, under the mock title of a 
 separate kingdom, form the gigantic boundaries 
 of Austrian direct preponderancy; indepen¬ 
 dently of the influence which she indirectly 
 assumes over the entire of Italy. There is not, 
 in fact, a foot of land from Savoy, including 
 Sardinia and Sicily, throughout this, the finest, 
 the richest, the most populous and most civi¬ 
 lized part of Europe, over which the Austrian 
 does not possess either an immediate or a family 
 interest—to the incalculable prejudice of the 
 general commerce of the rest of Europe, now 
 struggling for emancipation, and endeavouring 
 to establish a just equalization. 
 
 To preserve such an equilibrium has, since 
 the destruction of the Roman empire, been ever 
 the policy of Europe; and the general safety 
 requires, that Italy should be divided into 
 twelve small states and governments. Of these 
 separate governments, Venice and Genoa were 
 
60 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 ever the most happy, and the most flourishing. 
 And yet, there are mortals to be found, who 
 have the effrontery to hold forth in praise of 
 the new system of spoliation and aggrandize¬ 
 ment ! I, nevertheless, venture fearlessly to 
 assert—and the assertion is the result of a many 
 years’ intercourse, in Italy, with men of sound 
 judgment and great sagacity—that these short¬ 
 sighted politicians will never behold the restora¬ 
 tion of general tranquillity in Europe, unless 
 Italy—if not united into a kingdom, like France, 
 Spain, England, Portugal, and other nations— 
 be again divided into separate governments, as 
 it was before the breaking out of the French 
 revolution. 
 
 I challenge the Sovereigns of Europe to shew 
 any sufficient cause why nations, like individuals 
 in a court of justice, should not be permitted to 
 enforce the validity of their claim to indepen¬ 
 dence. Can you, England, who so sensibly 
 feel the blessings of that envied constitution, 
 which secures to you your native rights, and 
 the enjoyment of which rights you are gene¬ 
 rously endeavouring to extend even to the 
 savage—can you, I ask, continue any longer 
 insensible to the degraded situation, the intole¬ 
 rable sufferings, of the people of Genoa and 
 Venice? If you did not betray them by the 
 
VENICE. 
 
 Gl 
 
 false protestations of your commissioners, you 
 at least flattered them with the hopes, that they 
 should be restored to their lost liberty and in¬ 
 dependence. At any rate, your respectable 
 military commanders not only declared that 
 they were authorized to guarantee those in¬ 
 valuable blessings, but went so far as to pro¬ 
 mise the people, that they should be protected 
 by the British, in the possession of their antient, 
 or of any other form of government, which 
 they might consider most conducive to their 
 own happiness. Mieux tard que jamais ! It is 
 not yet too late. And, for the honour of my 
 beloved England, I cannot help indulging a hope 
 that, compromised as she thus is, in the eyes 
 of all Europe, in the natural degradation that 
 must ensue, from the continuance of the present 
 system, she will no longer continue quiescent. 
 
 Let me also hope, as I before took occasion to 
 observe, that our philanthropists will not confine 
 themselves to the emancipation of the Blacks, 
 but that they will lend their ready assistance in 
 redeeming the five-and-twenty millions of White 
 Christian slaves—Greeks and Italians—now 
 groaning beneath the yoke of foreign oppression. 
 
 Before I quit this part of my subject, allow 
 me to make one observation. Shakespeare has 
 told us, that “ sweet are the uses of adversity 
 
62 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 and I believe it to be strictly true, that the 
 school of affliction proves a school of wisdom, 
 to all classes of human beings—princes and 
 crowned heads excepted! For, it is a melan¬ 
 choly fact, that, notwithstanding the long exile 
 of the Sovereigns of Italy, in islands compara¬ 
 tively rude and uncultivated, and notwithstand¬ 
 ing their almost miraculous return to their own 
 beautiful dominions, they have brought back 
 with them the same prejudices, the same ar¬ 
 bitrary notions, and the same religious bigotry, 
 which formerly distinguished all their actions, 
 and to which may alone be attributed the anni¬ 
 hilation of their authority, and the present 
 restless condition of their unhappy subjects. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Niggardly Conduct of the Austrian Authorities in Venice . 
 
 Treatment of the Family of Solari . Anecdote of Murat 
 
 . The Venetian Bernabotti described . Venetian No¬ 
 bility...... Libro d'Oro . Prerogatives of the Aristocracy 
 
 . The Quaranta. 
 
 The low, niggardly, base, and parsimonious 
 conduct of the Austrian authorities in Italy, is 
 
VENICE. 
 
 63 
 
 as disgraceful as it is incredible ; as disgusting 
 as it is injurious to their own interests. Whither 
 is fled the noble spirit of Maria Theresa, of 
 Joseph the Second, and of their truly great- 
 minded and princely minister, Kaunitz ? It is an 
 easy matter to censure: I will, therefore, adduce 
 facts, in proof of the truth of my assertion. 
 
 At the period when the mad-brained Murat 
 invaded the north of Italy, the Marquis Pietro 
 Solari, on his return from Rome with despatches 
 for the Austrian Government, was waylaid by 
 that sanguinary adventurer, and wantonly mur¬ 
 dered between Ferrara and Rovigo, within a 
 stone’s throw of his brother Jerome’s estate, 
 merely to obtain possession of his despatches. 
 The Marquis had been three-and-forty years in 
 the service. Two of his brothers had fallen 
 gloriously in the field of battle, under Joseph 
 the Second and Leopold; and many other 
 members of this antient and noble house—which 
 dates its origin from the great families of Mala 
 Testa, hundreds of years before Counts of 
 Hopsburg, from whom the present imperial 
 family descends, were heard of—for the space 
 of four centuries had shewn their attachment 
 to the House of Austria; and, for their signal 
 achievements were raised, by Joseph the First, 
 to the rank of his Austrian and German nobility. 
 
64 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 and permitted to surmount their own arms with 
 the imperial coronet. Yet, notwithstanding all 
 these strong claims, such was the unparalleled 
 avarice of the Austrian Government, and such 
 its neglect of this loyal and meritorious family, 
 that the perpetrators of this foul murder have 
 never been brought to justice ; although there 
 is every reason to believe, that the postilion was 
 accessary to the sanguinary deed. 
 
 The relatives of the noble victim, finding that 
 no steps had been taken by the Government to 
 bring the perpetrators of the murder to justice, 
 applied personally to Vani, the head of the 
 police at Venice ; who gave them the following 
 answer:—“Gentlemen, the government will 
 not reward the Sbirri for the apprehension of 
 assassins ; and I myself am so wretchedly paid, 
 that I cannot afford to do it at my own expense. 
 Under the former government, if I happened 
 to have occasion for twenty or thirty extra 
 hands for an affair of importance, I was not 
 only paid for it, but thanked for my zeal and 
 activity ; whereas, the present Government 
 would not only refuse to defray the expenses, 
 but dismiss me for having done my duty. Had 
 this happened under our lost Republic, the 
 perpetrators would have been brought to justice, 
 and the family of the unfortunate nobleman 
 
VENICE. 
 
 65 
 
 would have been rewarded for his long services, 
 and their irreparable loss. But —tempora mu¬ 
 tant ur /” 
 
 Yes! the times are indeed changed. The 
 conduct of the Venetian Republic was in truth 
 paternal, magnanimous, and generous towards all 
 its subjects—especially towards those engaged 
 in its service, and towards its poor. 
 
 As I have had occasion to introduce the name 
 of Murat, I will here state, that I have been 
 credibly informed, by one of his nearest rela¬ 
 tions, that he never would have entertained the 
 project of invading the north of Italy, or of 
 making war against Austria, if he had not 
 received the strongest assurances, that, the 
 moment he took the field, he would have the 
 assistance of Great Britain. It is, however, 
 most probable, that his real motive, in making 
 this move towards the north, proceeded solely 
 from a desire of exciting the alarms of Austria 
 for the safety of her own possessions in Italy, 
 and thereby disabling her from assisting the 
 Bourbons, in preventing Napoleon from recover¬ 
 ing the diadem of France. 
 
 The much talked-of Venetian Eernabotti , 
 who take their name from having once lived, 
 from motives of frugality, in a remote quarter of 
 the city, called San Barnaba, are the descen- 
 
 VOL. i. 
 
 F 
 
66 
 
 VENIC E. 
 
 dants of some of the first inhabitants of the 
 Adriatic islands. All of them are ancient pa¬ 
 tricians, who, from misfortunes and a train of 
 unforeseen events, have been reduced to the 
 lowest pitch of indigence. To prevent, how¬ 
 ever, their being driven to the dire necessity of 
 begging in the public streets, or of being em¬ 
 ployed in menial occupations, which might re¬ 
 flect disgrace on the descendants of the founders 
 of its liberty and independence, the Republic 
 kindly thought fit to make ample provision, in 
 their various religious and lay institutions, for 
 their reception and decent support. The males, 
 whose inclinations might not dispose them to 
 follow a religious avocation, the moment they 
 attained the age of five-and-twenty, were ap¬ 
 pointed to the Quaranta. But, the claim to 
 this provision for the Bernabotti, like that for 
 the knights of Malta, depended on purity of 
 blood. If that blood chanced to be contami¬ 
 nated by an unfortunate crossing of breed, the 
 odds ran hard against their being entitled thereto. 
 As their very subsistence, therefore, was made 
 to depend on legitimacy, they rarely disgraced 
 their birth by a plebeian marriage ; since, the 
 provision was only bestowed on those, whose 
 nativity and matrimonial unions were inscribed 
 in the Golden Book, or register of nobility. 
 
VENICE. 
 
 67 
 
 There were, however, several liberal pro¬ 
 fessions, which intitled their followers to the 
 rank of nobility. For instance : if the daughter 
 of a professional man married a patrician, their 
 offspring were inserted in the Libro d’Oro. If 
 a patrician happened to unite himself to a ple¬ 
 beian, the females of that marriage, when 
 wedded to a patrician, were allowed to take 
 the rank of their husbands. The males were 
 employed as secretaries, or as residents of the 
 second order, at the different courts. This was 
 the case with Alviso Quirini, brother to the 
 well-known and beautiful Marina Benzoni; their 
 father having been a patrician, and their mother 
 a butcher’s daughter. I am not here speaking 
 of the Alviso Quirini, who was the last ambas¬ 
 sador extraordinary to the French Directory; 
 he, as well as his lady, being both pure patri¬ 
 cians. This was the Alviso Quirini, who had the 
 honour to be appointed, by the Austrian Govern¬ 
 ment at Venice, to attend on her Royal Highness 
 the Princess of Wales, the late Queen of Eng¬ 
 land, during her residence in that city; and 
 whose wife presented all the Venetian ladies, 
 whom her Royal Highness condescended either 
 to see, or be seen by. 
 
 The Government of Venice was in theory 
 republican. Yet no citizen, however opulent, 
 
 f 2 
 
68 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 could aspire to aristocratical prerogatives, unless 
 he could prove, de facto, that neither himself 
 nor his ancestors had been engaged in commer¬ 
 cial transactions for the space of two centuries. 
 And, so jealous were they of their ancient pri¬ 
 vileges, that they only issued letters patent for 
 aggregating the nobility of the Terra Firma to 
 their own aristocracy in times of necessity, and 
 when they had occasion to raise large sums of 
 money, for carrying on their wars against the 
 Turks, and other barbarous nations. If the 
 Republics of Venice and of Malta still existed, 
 Christianity would not now have to mourn over 
 the thousands of its followers, who have been 
 cruelly massacred by those savage infidels ! 
 
 The number of those who were aggregated* 
 from the Terra Firma to the Venetian nobility 
 was very limited. They were even ballotted for 
 by the Senate. Many have been rejected, and 
 have had their money returned to them. For 
 the nobility of the Terra Firma were obliged to 
 
 * Every family, or individual, so called up, was obliged, as 
 a guarantee for the due maintenance of the new dignity, to 
 lodo-e a hundred thousand ducats in the Bank of Venice. 
 This sum was lost to the family of the Marchioness of Solari, 
 seeing that there had been no fresh aggregation from the 
 Terra Ferma between the time of the money being lodged 
 and the downfall of the Republic. 
 
VENICE. 
 
 69 
 
 undergo the same formalities as those of Venice ; 
 and, even when aggregated, it required a cen¬ 
 tury or two, entirely to eradicate the prejudices 
 existing between them and the old nobility. 
 For instance, they could not belong to the 
 Savio Consiglio di Died, or Council of Ten; 
 they could not be of the Inquisitori di Stata ; 
 nor Doge ; nor ambassadors extraordinary ; nor 
 Podesta of Venice, &c. 
 
 Under the old Venetian Republic, the tribu¬ 
 nals were composed of one hundred and twenty 
 members, called the Quarantia ; out of whom, 
 forty were chosen by ballot, to preside, both as 
 judges and jurors, in all civil matters. They 
 were divided as follows: 1. La Quarantia civil 
 vecchia ; 2. La Quarantia civil nuova ; 3. La 
 Quarantia della Terra Ferma. 
 
 The members were called Quaranta, because 
 they belonged to the Quarantia. Every patri¬ 
 cian was eligible to the situation, as soon as he 
 had attained the age of five-and-twenty. They 
 much resembled an English jury ; only they 
 held the office for life. They must have been 
 men who had been regularly educated , for the 
 bar. They were not under the necessity of 
 coming to an unanimous verdict, as is the case 
 in British courts of justice; but decided by a 
 majority of votes, entirely from the evidence 
 
70 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 which had come out before them, while sitting 
 in the character of judges. If, by chance, it 
 came to be known, that any member of the 
 Quarantia had given a legal opinion upon the 
 case, previously to its coming before him in his 
 judicial capacity, he was declared incapable of 
 sitting upon that trial, and his place was filled 
 by another. 
 
 As the members of the Quarantia were gene¬ 
 rally either men of small fortunes, or belonging 
 to the order called Bernabotti, they each re¬ 
 ceived an annual salary, out of the public purse, 
 of a hundred and twenty golden ducats, called 
 in the Venetian dialect zeccliini , to distinguish 
 them from the ducato, of which there are two 
 sorts; one of silver, of the value of four Frencli 
 francs; the other a nominal money, like our 
 pound sterling, called ducato di Banco, worth 
 something less than three francs. 
 
 The Venetian Republic, during its beneficent 
 and truly paternal sway, bestowed a pension on 
 all the children of the Bernabotti, from their 
 cradle upwards. That which, in other countries, 
 is too often considered a misfortune, was, to the 
 above-mentioned class, a source of comfort 
 and of emolument. They therefore cheerfully 
 obeyed, as early as nature would permit, the 
 sacred injunction—“ Increase and multiply!” 
 
VENICE. 
 
 71 
 
 When Buonaparte flagitiously overturned the 
 antient Venetian power, many of these unfortu¬ 
 nate Bernabotti were deprived of the means of 
 procuring a subsistence ; and, if some of their 
 own countrymen had not generously stepped 
 forward to relieve their immediate wants, they 
 must inevitably have perished ; for their new 
 masters quitted them, without making any other 
 provision for them than two livres a day. This 
 scanty pittance has, however, been deemed too 
 large by their present rulers; for, all those who 
 have praise-worthily endeavoured to add to 
 this wretched allowance by their own industry, 
 and to gain a trifle by engaging themselves as 
 clerks in mercantile houses, have actually been 
 deprived of it, by a decree of his gracious 
 Imperial Majesty, declaring all persons incapable 
 of enjoying the luxury of this enormous pension, 
 provided they happen to have any other means 
 of procuring a subsistence for themselves and 
 families. 
 
 As it is quite impossible to live on this pittance, 
 many have actually chosen to trust to the chance 
 of getting employment, and have preferred to 
 renounce their claim altogether, rather than 
 exclude themselves, by accepting it, from every 
 prospect of bettering their deplorable condition. 
 
( 72 ) 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 0 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Austrian treatment of the Company of Venetian Couriers . 
 
 Conduct of Marshal Chatlaire and his horde of Croats , on 
 the destruction of the Palazzo di Andrea Cornaro by fire. 
 
 . Austrian Mode of indemnifying the Sufferers thereby 
 
 . Stamped-paper Memorials to the Emperor . Revenue 
 
 derived therefrom . Deplorable ffects of the Austrian 
 
 system of rule on the Arts and Sciences . And on “ La 
 
 Bella Litteratura Italiana." 
 
 When the Venetian States were first honoured 
 with a visit from the Emperor of Austria, his 
 Majesty was pleased to designate the unprin¬ 
 cipled acquisition as “ the brightest jewel and 
 most valuable gem” of his imperial diadem. 
 When I have reflected on the treatment which 
 Venice has met with at the hands of her new 
 master, I have often wondered within myself, 
 what his conduct towards her would have been, 
 if, instead of being a “ bright jewel,” and a 
 “ most valuable gem,” that royal personage had 
 happened to consider her mere French paste ! 
 
 This bombastic language wrought like a 
 charm on the ears of the two and-thirty pro- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 73 
 
 prietors of the General Post, who had been 
 robbed of their property, and deprived of the 
 exercise of their functions, by the Corsican 
 freebooter. Accordingly, the Company of Vene¬ 
 tian Couriers, as they are called, went up in a 
 body, and presented to his Imperial Majesty a 
 memorial, praying for the restitution of their 
 property ; and begging to be either replaced in 
 the exercise of their dearly-purchased immunities, 
 or to be paid the sum which, centuries before, 
 the Republic had resolved on granting them, if 
 it should ever come to the determination of 
 making the post-office a public concern. To 
 which memorial, the Emperor most feelingly 
 replied, that “it was but fair and just that the 
 Company should be indemnified, since the 
 Government were then reaping the benefit of 
 the concern ; but, in consequence of the expen¬ 
 sive wars which Austria had, for so many years, 
 been compelled to carry on, the public treasury 
 was at that time too much exhausted, to admit 
 of any additional burthens; however, if the 
 Venetian States w r ere willing to submit to the 
 levying of a tax for that purpose, the produce 
 should be duly applied to the liquidation of their 
 claim.” 
 
 This proposition w r as accordingly made to the 
 States, and was most patriotically acquiesced in; 
 
74 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 but, when the Austrians were driven from those 
 States by the French, they carried away with 
 them the produce of the tax so levied, without 
 paying the company a single ducat; and the 
 debt remains unliquidated to the present hour, 
 although many of those unfortunate couriers 
 have had their lands and household goods seized 
 on for a two months’ arrear of the taxes. All 
 the facts of this aggravating case have now 
 stood on the Austrian official records for more 
 than five-and-twenty years: yet, neither prin¬ 
 cipal nor interest has to this day been paid to 
 the distressed sufferers! 
 
 On the dissolution of the ancient Venetian 
 Government, the magnificent palace of Andrea 
 Cornaro became a receptacle for the effects of 
 many of the nobles, who, on retiring from the 
 capital, were not able to dispose of them. In 
 this situation they remained, until the Austrian 
 Government purchased the above-mentioned 
 palace for public offices. Scarcely, however, 
 had it been taken possession of, when, in conse¬ 
 quence of the introduction of a number of 
 German stoves, the palace caught fire, and the 
 property of the unfortunate nobles, which had 
 been therein deposited for nearly fifteen years, 
 was totally destroyed. 
 
 Marshal ( hatlaire, who was at that time the 
 
VENICE. 7 5 
 
 military commander at Venice, and who had 
 lived a great deal with the Turks, though a 
 Frenchman by birth, conducted himself, on this 
 distressing occasion, in a manner worthy of an 
 infidel. In this instance, at least, the old English 
 proverb, “ Tell me your company, and I’ll tell 
 you what sort of a man you are,” was com¬ 
 pletely verified; for he comported himself more 
 like a barbarian than a Christian. Instead of 
 calling out the firemen of the Arsenale —an 
 active class of men, usually employed on such 
 occasions—he directed five hundred of his 
 horde of Croats to enter the palace ; who either 
 savagely destroyed, or carried off with them, 
 whatever the flames—more merciful than them¬ 
 selves—had spared. They demolished immense 
 pier glasses of great value ; carrying off the 
 fragments to their barracks, and making them 
 serve in the place of razors to shave themselves 
 with. They also took away numerous articles of 
 expensive furniture belonging to the noble 
 owner of the palace, and to others. 
 
 This truly distressing circumstance is gene¬ 
 rally supposed to have been occasioned by the 
 maliciously over-heating of the stoves, which 
 the Austrians introduce wherever they go, to 
 the total destruction of some of the finest paint¬ 
 ings and buildings in Venice ; since they are 
 
76 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 not at all calculated either for the edifices or 
 the climate of Italy. 
 
 The effect produced by this fire on the minds 
 of the people was so unfavourable to the Aus¬ 
 trians, that it was thought advisable to dispatch 
 to Vienna a detailed account of the misfortune 
 which had befallen this new public office. His 
 Imperial Majesty, ever tremblingly alive to the 
 welfare of his liege subjects, graciously directed 
 a decree to be issued and sent round to the 
 magistrates of Venice, enjoining them to procure 
 estimates, drawn up on stamped paper, of the 
 amount of the loss sustained by every indi¬ 
 vidual, and to transmit them forthwith to the 
 Government at Vienna. 
 
 This step quieted the unfortunate sufferers 
 for a time. However, after a lapse of nearly a 
 twelvemonth, they received from the Camera 
 Aulica, the very consolatory answer—that “ no 
 individual had a right to deposit property in 
 any of the public offices though the Austrian 
 Government, when it sent that answer, was well 
 aware, that the property destroyed had been 
 lodged in the palace fifteen years before it was 
 purchased for a public office ! 
 
 Hope, delusive meteor! what myriads hast 
 thou misled and bewildered, by thy smiles and 
 fascinating prospects ! What loads of treasure 
 
VENICE. 
 
 77 
 
 hast thou juggled out of the pockets of the 
 rightful owners, and transferred to the bottom¬ 
 less coffers of the Austrian Exchequer! leaving 
 the cajoled expectants to exclaim with Has¬ 
 tings— 
 
 “ O momentary grace of mortal men, 
 
 Which we more hunt for than the grace of God ! 
 Who builds his hope in air of your fair looks, 
 
 Lives like a drunken sailor on a mast; 
 
 Ready, with every nod, to tumble down 
 Into the fatal bowels of the deep.” 
 
 Numerous are the decrees, of the above gra¬ 
 cious description, which have been issued by 
 the Austrian Government, to quiet the unwary 
 Venetians, by the expectation of redress for 
 their grievances, and indemnification for their 
 losses. This trick is resorted to, from motives 
 of the most far-fetched guile, in order to extract 
 the last ducat from the pockets of these miserable 
 victims to every species of human disaster. For, 
 be it known to my readers, that, once a week, 
 his “ paternal” and Imperial Majesty receives 
 at Vienna the humblest of his German subjects. 
 They must, however, as a preparatory and indis¬ 
 pensable step, be all of them furnished with a 
 memorial, drawn up on stamped paper; for, 
 without a memorial so drawn up, not a Jack of 
 them can be admitted into the royal presence! 
 
78 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 But, alas for the poor Venetians, whose terri¬ 
 tory his Imperial Majesty designates as the 
 “ brightest jewel ” and the “ most valuable 
 gem” of his crown, they are not permitted to 
 feast their longing eyes on the august counte¬ 
 nance, unless when the Emperor graciously con¬ 
 descends to pay a visit to the city of desolation ! 
 Being generally interdicted from journeying to 
 Vienna, they have no other mode of making 
 known their grievances, but through the me¬ 
 dium of stamped-paper memorials. No fewer 
 than twelve thousand of these memorials, 
 on subjects deeply affecting their well-being, 
 have been returned to them, accompanied 
 with a direct negative to their pressing solici¬ 
 tations. 
 
 Nay, to such a pitch is this system carried, 
 that it is now become quite a common thing at 
 Venice, when it is rumoured that any one, not 
 in the secret, is about to send off a petition to 
 Vienna, appealing against some act of injustice, 
 to exclaim—“ If you happen to have any money 
 which you are desirous of flinging away, risk it 
 in the lottery ; for there, at least, you have one 
 chance out of a thousand in your favour : but, 
 if you send a memorial to Vienna, no benefit can 
 possibly arise out of it —except to the Austrian 
 treasury /” 
 
VENICE. 
 
 79 
 
 And, that this covert sort of impost is a highly 
 lucrative one, there can, I believe, be very little 
 doubt; since his Imperial Majesty, once or 
 twice in the space of every month, gives an 
 audience, which lasts for six or eight hours, to 
 persons of all ranks and descriptions, for the 
 sole purpose of receiving these memorials. And, 
 as they are generally returned, by the post , to 
 the dilferent petitioners, a fresh source of revenue 
 presents itself to Austrian cupidity ! But, why 
 should I complain of all this ? Are not the 
 Venetians Italians? And, if the Germans ge¬ 
 nerously condescend to leave them their eyes 
 to weep with, would it not be ingratitude, “ more 
 hideous than the sea-monster,” to complain ? 
 
 Under the Venetian Government, and even 
 under the yoke of Buonaparte, all persons 
 known to be in slender circumstances were 
 exempted, when they happened to have occasion 
 to go to law r , from the payment of certain stamp 
 and register duties ; and not unfrequently from 
 the expence of counsel, and the charges for 
 briefs and affidavits. The simplicity, too, of 
 the law proceedings formerly, in comparison 
 with those at present adopted, was, in the pro¬ 
 portion of one to a hundred, more beneficial, 
 both to plaintiff and defendant, than the com¬ 
 plicated and confused forms introduced by the 
 
80 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Austrians. If properly followed up, a lawsuit, 
 in the space of six weeks, might be carried 
 through all its stages, up to its termination. 
 
 The Venetian laws were also distinguished 
 for their clearness and simplicity. Neither has 
 the eloquence of their public pleaders been 
 exceeded by the orators of any other country 
 whatever. Indeed, for the space of centuries, 
 the excellence of the laws of Venice, and the 
 fairness with which those laws were adminis¬ 
 tered, occasioned the tribunals of that city to be 
 held in such esteem throughout Italy, that per¬ 
 sons from all parts w r ere accustomed to send 
 their differences to be decided by the Courts of 
 Venice, in preference to those existing in any 
 other parts of the kingdom. 
 
 But, all these great and glorious deeds of 
 the olden time have vanished—never more to 
 return! At Venice, the poor have now no 
 protector to look up to, save Heaven ! Under 
 the iron gripe of Austria, the rising genius of 
 her citizens is nipped in the bud. Men of talents 
 are forbidden to exercise those talents, in the 
 church, or at the bar; —at least, within the 
 Venetian territories. 
 
 This barbarous policy operates most destruc¬ 
 tively ; for it not only checks the progress of 
 the arts and sciences, but arrests the march of 
 
VENICE. 
 
 81 
 
 civilization. It also strikes at the very root 
 and life-spring of “ la bella litteratura I tali ana.” 
 The Venetians, therefore, as they value their 
 own comfort, should imitate the conduct of the 
 ancient Greeks ; who, after the tyrant Sylla had 
 overturned the tribunals at Athens, instituted aca¬ 
 demies, where the people were taught the art of 
 forgetting what they had once acquired. Even 
 the works of the great Metastasio—who wrote 
 the chief part of his operas at Vienna, at the 
 express command of her Imperial Majesty the 
 Empress Maria Theresa, for the entertainment 
 and instruction of her daughters, the Arch¬ 
 duchesses, and which works the murdered 
 Marie-Antoinette was so passionately fond of, 
 that she had committed their principal beauties 
 to memory—even these works, I say, are now 
 amongst the list of libri prohibit}, in the Aus¬ 
 trian dominions! 
 
 VOL. i. 
 
 G 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 'Preference given to Germans in all the Public Offices . 
 
 The Venetians not suffered to leave the City without Pass¬ 
 ports . Destruction of the Palaces of the Nobles . Con¬ 
 
 fiscation and Sale of them to Jem for Arrears of Taxes 
 . Neglect of the Arts and Sciences Stagnation of Com¬ 
 merce . Restrictions thereon . Present State of the 
 
 A rsenal . Fettered Condition of the Press. 
 
 After the best consideration I have been 
 able to give to the treatment which the people 
 of Italy generally, and the Venetians in par¬ 
 ticular, have experienced at the hands of their 
 task-masters, I cannot help saying, and I do 
 not use the expression irreverently, that the 
 latter, during a space of nearly two thousand 
 years, are the only people who have followed 
 the example of the Saviour of the world—who, 
 when he received the sacrilegious slap, instead of 
 resenting the foul insult, turned the other cheek 
 to receive a repetition of the outrage. Po nothing 
 else can I compare the humiliating condition 
 to which the noblest portion of God s cieatuies 
 are now reduced ! We are told, that men aie 
 
VENICE. 
 
 83 
 
 never taught wisdom so effectually as in the 
 school of adversity. I believe the maxim to be 
 a just one. It should however be borne in mind 
 by their rulers, that the Venetians are men ; 
 and that, though they may hitherto have pa¬ 
 tiently submitted to the yoke of the oppressor, 
 it does not necessarily follow, that they will for 
 ever consent to remain in their present prostrate 
 condition. 
 
 Every individual possessing a grain of proper 
 feeling, is naturally actuated by the laudable 
 desire of being useful to his country; and he 
 expects to receive from his sovereign the re¬ 
 ward of his exertions, instead of seeing that re¬ 
 ward bestowed on a foreigner ; more especially 
 when that individual feels, that he is not only 
 in every respect the equal of the intruder, but 
 greatly his superior, both in ability and in local 
 information. 
 
 No Venetian, however, is permitted to serve 
 under the Austrian government, but as an’Alun- 
 no , and without pay. The Germans, never¬ 
 theless, are employed in all the departments of 
 the state, both at Venice and in the Terra 
 Eirma, and receive regular salaries; although 
 many of them, from their entire ignorance of 
 the Italian language, are incapable of perform¬ 
 ing their duty towards either their sovereign or 
 the public. 
 
 o C Z 
 
84 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 And, has a government thus unmindful of the 
 sacred obligations which it owes to all its sub¬ 
 jects, any right to expect from those subjects 
 love and attachment in return? The Venetians, 
 at present, are very little better than mere 
 slaves attached to fe the soil. No one is allowed 
 to be absent from his watery element on a visit 
 to the Terra Firma, without first presenting 
 himself before the police, and there making a 
 full confession of “ parentage and education, 
 life, character and behaviour,” prior to his ob¬ 
 taining a passport. Let the business be ever so 
 urgent, and the journey be merely to Fusina 
 or Mestre—the former town being three, and 
 the latter five miles from the capital—a delay of 
 some days intervenes before the trifling request 
 is complied with; and even then it is only 
 granted upon the responsibility of two respect¬ 
 able housekeepers, for the good conduct and safe 
 return of the applicant. 
 
 Should the individual soliciting the passport 
 happen to be a person of rank, the request must, 
 in that case, be made to the Secretary of State 
 at Vienna, whose more pressing engagements 
 will probably prevent his sending an answer for 
 five or six months ; and, even then, it is not 
 unfrequently in the negative. If in the affir¬ 
 mative, a deposit must be made, at the rate of a 
 
VENICE. 
 
 85 
 
 zecchino per month, for the time of being 
 absent, and a couple of ducats must in addition 
 be paid for the passport. 
 
 It has been given out in this country, that 
 his Imperial Majesty, from his “ paternal ” 
 anxiety for the preservation of the magnificent 
 monuments of art with which the city of Venice 
 abounds, has interdicted the further demolition 
 of those beautiful palaces, which can only be 
 compared to a forest of rich marble, rising out 
 of the briny ocean, by some such supernatural 
 operation, as that which is narrated to have 
 
 divided Sicily from Calabria, or formed the 
 
 \ 
 
 Pharos at Messina. 
 
 It is scarcely possible for a traveller to give a 
 faithful description of a city, which differs from 
 every known city, not only in Europe, but in 
 the other quarters of the globe. The sight of 
 the immense blocks of beautiful marble, which 
 present themselves between the foundation piles, 
 and the palaces reared upon them, has such 
 an astounding effect upon the beholder, as 
 almost to leave him in doubt whether marble, 
 as well as the piscatory tribe, be not the native 
 production of the watery element : for it 
 appears impossible, that the vessels used in na¬ 
 vigation at that remote period, should have been 
 of sufficient dimensions to have conveyed those 
 
86 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 massy blocks from Greece to their present 
 station ; or that, when they had reached Venice, 
 they could have been landed uninjured out of 
 those vessels, but by the aid of the most skilful 
 and most perfect machinery. The sums ex¬ 
 pended upon the hidden foundations of these 
 noble palaces, are calculated to have greatly 
 exceeded the cost of the visible parts of these 
 splendid edifices. 
 
 His Imperial Majesty is a native of classical 
 Florence, and may therefore naturally be 
 presumed to be a patron of the fine arts. In 
 consequence of the present system of govern¬ 
 ment at Venice, many of the most distinguished 
 patrician families having, from cruel necessity, 
 been obliged to pull down a portion of these 
 monuments of their former grandeur, to pro¬ 
 cure to themselves the means of a miserable 
 subsistence in the country, which of course 
 destroyed the uniformity of the city ; to prevent 
 a repetition of the practice, a decree was issued 
 from Vienna, forbidding the proprietors to 
 deface or mulitate any of the palaces. But, in 
 the teeth of its own decree, this most consistent 
 as well as most “ paternal ” government, has 
 not hesitated—oh, dire digrace! oh, unheard- 
 of sacrilege!—to confiscate them for arrears of 
 taxes, and to dispose of them to Jews, who 
 
VENICE. 
 
 t 
 
 \ 
 
 87 
 
 convert the classical remains into storehouses, 
 after taking down the ornaments and selling the 
 materials. So that the barbarous custom which 
 the decree was intended to prevent, slill con¬ 
 tinues unabated; for no one, now-a-days, would 
 think of purchasing a Venetian palace, upon any 
 other than the above Israelitish principle,—a 
 practice this, which adds daily to the misery of 
 this already too-much oppressed and worn-down 
 people : for, under the hammer of the govern¬ 
 ment auctioneer, a splendid palace is often 
 knocked down for a mere song. 
 
 That many of the noble patrician families are 
 reduced to the last stage of misery, is but too 
 notorious. In proof of the distressing fact, I 
 will only adduce the sudden death of poor 
 Zorzi, the patrician, and husband of Marcellina 
 Gondollmer, who was found dead near the 
 Piazza di San Marco, from actual want of food 
 and raiment! The above-mentioned lady ac¬ 
 companied Mr. Rose, in his travels through 
 Italy, and came with him to this country. She 
 has since returned, with her son, to her native 
 land, where she is living comfortably upon a 
 pension, which has been liberally settled upon 
 her by our enlightened countryman. 
 
 The public taxes at Venice, as I have already 
 observed, are collected, under the present au- 
 
88 
 
 VENIC E. 
 
 thorities, every two months : for the payment of 
 which, a printed government receipt is given. 
 Should, however, the tax-gatherer abscond, 
 which is no uncommon case, the individual, 
 notwithstanding bis receipt, is compelled to pay 
 them over again. 
 
 Commerce, navigation, agriculture, as well as 
 all the useful arts and sciences, are now mere 
 non-entities at Venice. The exorbitant excise 
 and customs duties, together with other vexa¬ 
 tions, have deterred all merchant vessels from 
 trading to that port, since it has been under 
 the “ paternal ” government of Austria. I 
 must, however, except a few boats bringing 
 salt-fish, red herrings, and dried sprats. If, 
 therefore, the poor forlorn V enetians stand 
 in need of a barrel of coffee, or a hogshead 
 of sugar, they must patiently wait, until they 
 can procure it from Trieste, at second or third 
 hand. 
 
 Though it is not uncommon for a vessel to 
 reach Venice from the last-mentioned port, in 
 the short space of eight hours; yet, from the 
 numerous obstacles thrown in the way by the 
 custom-house officers, it is at least as many 
 days before it can be unloaded. The com¬ 
 mercial regulations adopted by Austria have 
 occasioned a decrease in the import and export 
 
VENICE. 
 
 89 
 
 trade of Venice, to the extent of thirty thousand 
 florins per month. 
 
 The commercial buildings and warehouses 
 are actually become mere watch-boxes, and 
 barracks for the men, who were once busily 
 employed as porters, to load and unload the 
 merchandize ; but who are now chiefly occupied 
 in guarding the bales for transit, or in prevent¬ 
 ing the hungry rats from gnawing the cordage 
 and packing. 
 
 Such is the present degraded condition of the 
 spot which, until the discovery of the Cape of 
 Good Hope, was considered the first commercial 
 city of the world ! 
 
 So celebrated was once the Arsenal of Venice, 
 that it was looked up to as a model for all the 
 dock-yards and other naval establishments 
 throughout Europe. Four-and-twenty ships of 
 war were constantly kept in a state of readiness, 
 either for the use of the republic, or the service 
 of its allies. Thus were thousands upon thou¬ 
 sands of skilful and industrious artificers, of 
 every description connected with the maritime 
 department, kept in constant employ, within 
 the small circle of three miles. Trees in their 
 unhewn shape, rough from the forests, entered 
 the arsenal, and sailed out of it vessels com¬ 
 pletely equipped for service, and wanting nothing 
 
90 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 but their warlike stores, such as cannon, balls, 
 and powder ; which were conveyed to them in 
 small boats, to the mouth of the sea, called il 
 Lido, at the distance of about three miles from 
 Venice; since no vessel drawing more than 
 seven feet water can approach nearer to the 
 city. Over the gateway of the arsenal still 
 stands the winged lion of St. Mark, guarded on 
 either side by colossal lions, taken from the 
 Piraeus at Athens. Now, alas, this monument 
 of Venetian skill, and industry, and enterprize, 
 is little more than a receptacle for old lumber, 
 and the choppings up of the logs and staves of 
 decayed vessels for fuel ! 
 
 To give my reader a correct notion of the 
 amazing sapience of the Austrians in matters 
 appertaining to commerce, I need only state, 
 that on their first taking possession of this once 
 flourishing port, the cockets which they calcu¬ 
 lated would serve them for six months were not 
 more than sufficient for the demand of ten days— 
 a circumstance which occasioned a total stagna¬ 
 tion of trade, until a further supply could be 
 procured from that sanctum sanctorum the Aulic 
 Chamber at Vienna ; as they are not suffered to 
 be printed at Venice. 
 
 For a Venetian to go to Vienna to demand 
 redress for any injury he may have sustained. 
 
V E N I C E. 
 
 91 
 
 would be almost as difficult as it would be for a 
 man to land in any part of Europe, after a 
 voyage to Turkey, without previously perform¬ 
 ing quarantine. These “ bright jewels,” these 
 “valuable gems” of Venetian subjects, as their 
 “ paternal” sovereign styles them, are preserved 
 as carefully as diamonds in cotton. They are 
 shut out from the capital of Austria; and the 
 local governors have especial orders not to grant 
 them passports for that purpose. Like crown 
 jewels, they are only to be seen on extraordinary 
 occasions. But then, their native lustre, how¬ 
 ever they may have been pent up in darkness, 
 is found to outvie whatever is placed in compe¬ 
 tition with them ; nor can even the iron hand of 
 despotism tarnish their intrinsic brilliancy. 
 
 In the ears of those who do not intend a 
 remedy, the vibration of the complaints of the 
 injured must ever be discordant and unwelcome. 
 The more remote, therefore, the sufferers are 
 from the authors of their grievances, the less 
 will “ the worm of conscience begnaw their 
 souls ;” for, assuredly, the delicate nerves of ex¬ 
 alted personages ought not to be deprived of 
 their accustomed tension, on account of the 
 miseries of a few thousand poverty-struck and 
 half-starved human beings! 
 
 The Venetians are not even permitted to 
 
92 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 reprint the newspaper published at Vienna, until 
 it has been carefully examined by the officers of 
 the police; who strike out whatever they may 
 think fit, before they suffer it to be translated 
 into the Italian language. Graziosi, the editor 
 and proprietor of a journal, for not having con¬ 
 formed to this most degrading regulation, was 
 arrested by the police, and threatened with fine, 
 imprisonment, and the total suppression of his 
 paper. In his defence he alleged, that “ he had 
 done nothing more than give a 'verbatim transla¬ 
 tion of the contents of the German journal, 
 written under the immediate inspection of M. 
 Pilato, the political secretary of Prince Metter- 
 nich ; and that he could not imagine that mat¬ 
 ters of a treasonable nature would find their way 
 into a publication issuing from such a quarter.” 
 Notwithstanding which, he was severely repri¬ 
 manded, and told, that “ there was a wide differ¬ 
 ence between what ought to be allowed to the 
 inhabitants of the capital of the empire, and 
 what ought to be allowed to the natives of a 
 conquered city of a petty province.” The tame 
 submission of the present race of Venetians, 
 proves them to be subjects worthy of such a 
 government. The same conduct is to this day 
 rigorously observed. Not a newspaper do the 
 police suffer to make its appearance, until they 
 
VENICE. 
 
 93 
 
 have cut out and garbled whatever they may 
 be anxious to keep from the eyes of the enslaved 
 population! 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Overthrotv of the Monastic Institutions at Venice . Reduced 
 
 Condition of their former Inmates . Loxv State of the 
 
 Ecclesiastical Establishments . Religion of the Venetians 
 
 . A Visit to the Greek Church . And to the Armenian 
 
 . The Inquisition. 
 
 Throughout the Venetian territories, as well 
 as in every other part of Italy, the monks and 
 nuns have fallen into the toils of the revolution. 
 Not that I regret the overthrow of the monastic 
 institutions; though I cannot but deprecate the 
 treatment which some of the noble as well as 
 most worthy members of these and of other 
 peaceable establishments have met with. 
 
 These unfortunate beings, of both sexes, were 
 exclusively natives of the Venetian territories. 
 They were most exemplary in the performance 
 of their moral and religious duties, and distin¬ 
 guished for their charity towards the poor of 
 
94 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 their dependencies. If conduct so praiseworthy 
 can weigh aught in their favour with the unpre¬ 
 judiced and the benevolent, I trust it will be 
 my excuse for exposing to the world the harsh 
 treatment which they have experienced under 
 the rule of Austria. The greater part of them 
 were the relatives of patrician families, who had 
 been reduced to ruin by the overthrow of the 
 Republic. They had been too delicately brought 
 up to betake themselves to menial occupations ; 
 and many of them were too old to be made 
 serviceable. Consequently, when they were 
 driven from their convents, if there had not been 
 some small allowance for their daily support, 
 they must, in this, the eighteenth century of 
 Christian civilization, have inevitably perished 
 from hunger. 
 
 Oh! if our much-vaunted Philanthropic so¬ 
 cieties, and our Bible societies, and our Men¬ 
 dicity societies, and our societies for the Sup¬ 
 pression of Vice, and the Abolition of Sla¬ 
 very, had but condescended to bestow an 
 atom of their benevolence on these devoted 
 victims of revolutionary principles, surely it 
 would have been as honourable, and to the full 
 as pleasing in the sight of God, as it was to 
 assail the House of Commons with clamours for 
 the Abolition of the Black Slave Trade! 
 
VENICE. 
 
 95 
 
 In all governments there must exist a hierarch. 
 Why, then, should the Lady Abbess, or il padre 
 Abate , not be suffered to exercise the same 
 prerogative over the menial servant of a convent, 
 which the field-marshal exercises over the private 
 soldier, or the bishop over the curate, and 
 which, in fact, is exercised in every country, 
 and distinguishes the dependant from the su¬ 
 perior ? 
 
 At Venice, however, the Lady Abbess and 
 the kitchen-maid, the house-porter and the 
 head of the convent, had alike the same scanty 
 pension of a couple of Venetian livres ; that is 
 to say, about tenpence English money per 
 day, allowed them to subsist upon ; as if these 
 unfortunate, and worn down, and decrepid crea¬ 
 tures had no longer any claim on the common 
 feelings of humanity ! And, even this miserable 
 sum, out of which they are to find themselves 
 in food, and in clothes, and in habitation, is 
 not paid to them, until six months after it 
 becomes due : by which delay, the government 
 not only saves something in the way of interest, 
 but speculates on the chance of some of the 
 poor creatures dying in the interim. 
 
 Nor are the tradespeople willing to give them 
 the least credit; well knowing that the govern¬ 
 ment, in case they should die within the six 
 
96 
 
 V E N 1 C E. 
 
 months, would refuse to pay their debts, though 
 those debts might have been contracted for the 
 very necessaries of life. So that these miserable 
 beings would literally be reduced to a state of 
 starvation, were it not for the benevolence of a 
 few of their old dependents and some charitable 
 shop-keepers, who formerly served their con¬ 
 vents, and who, from gratitude for past kind¬ 
 nesses, continue to supply them on trust for the 
 articles they may stand in need of. 
 
 In all catholic countries, when any extraordi¬ 
 nary national calamity befalls the people, the 
 government generally give directions to the 
 ecclesiastical authorities to order public prayers 
 to be offered up to the Supreme Being, beseech¬ 
 ing him to avert the impending danger. These 
 religious ceremonies are performed with all 
 that pomp and decorum, which is customary 
 in that religion, when invoking the Almighty. 
 The churches are brilliantly lighted up ; and 
 although, on these occasions, they are crowded 
 to excess, there rarely happens the least dis¬ 
 order. 
 
 Although their ecclesiastics, under the Vene¬ 
 tian Republic, possessed no absolute authority, 
 as is the case in other states, yet they used to 
 provide the means necessary on these solemn 
 occasions; well knowing the liberal system of 
 
VENICE. 
 
 97 
 
 the government, in all matters of public utility, 
 and especially in matters appertaining to 
 religion ; and that it never took advantage 
 of those who confided in its generosity. But, 
 at present, this class, like the former inhabitants 
 of the convents, are so shabbily rewarded for 
 their services, that they are no longer in a con¬ 
 dition to supply the church, even for its common 
 necessaries, much less for extraordinary occa¬ 
 sions. 
 
 The above ceremony usually commenced 
 with the exhibition of the crucifix, surrounded 
 by twenty-four wax torches. Under the plea 
 of preserving good order, this ceremony, as 
 well as the lighting up of the church, is not 
 now suffered, without first sending to Vienna 
 for permission. But, religious zeal can stomach 
 no delay ; and, to prevent the consequences 
 likely to ensue from disappointment, the clergy 
 of the Basilica of San Marco, the first cathedral 
 in Christendom, have actually been under the 
 necessity of parading the streets, going from 
 house to house, and begging the shopkeepers 
 of the Merceria, and all piously disposed per¬ 
 sons, to contribute towards the expense of 
 calling upon the Supreme Being to assist them 
 in their affliction ! But, what “ affliction,” on 
 this side the grave, can equal that of living 
 
 VOL. I. H 
 
98 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 under a government, which, though professing 
 the same religion, nevertheless withholds from 
 its subjects the means of appealing to their 
 Creator, in the mode which that religion enjoins? 
 For even this cannot be done, without the sanc¬ 
 tion of the Aulic Chamber at Vienna ! 
 
 Of all human sufferings, none are probably 
 so truly galling as those which rankle in the 
 breast of a noble, intellectual being—an Italian, 
 for instance, sincere, unsuspicious, complaisant, 
 polite, and yielding—when he finds himself 
 duped and betrayed by a brutal and ignorant 
 clown, whose only talent consists in low roguery! 
 How humiliating it must be for Venetians to lie 
 at the pleasure (mercy, it were idle to say), and 
 the policy of Germans, Englishmen can scarcely 
 conceive. Thraldom, under the yoke of fo¬ 
 reigners—and such foreigners!—is a condition 
 unknown to Britons. Long may they continue 
 to be thus ignorant! And long may they know 
 how to appreciate the unrivalled blessings which 
 they enjoy, under their ancient and invaluable 
 system of government! 
 
 With respect to the religion of the Venetians, 
 there can be no doubt that the worship of the 
 Deity exists, in its full sense, in a city abound¬ 
 ing in churches, rich in every description of 
 sacred ornaments, parishes abundantly supplied 
 
V E NICE. 
 
 99 
 
 with clergy, and hospitals administering to the 
 wants of, and serving as asylums for, suffering 
 humanity. In conformity with the primitive 
 spirit of their institution, the clergy are excluded 
 from any interference in matters of government. 
 The curates are elected by the people in their 
 respective parishes. 
 
 The several religious ceremonies at Venice are 
 conducted with as much pomp and show as in any 
 other part of Italy; and with the utmost decency, 
 order, and propriety. I have been informed, 
 that at one of the ceremonies in St. Mark’s 
 Church, whilst all the senators, the Venetian 
 nobility of both sexes, and an immense congre¬ 
 gation, were on their knees at their devotions, 
 an Englishman was observed standing: seeing 
 this, one of the senators went up to him, and 
 with great politeness informed him, it was ne¬ 
 cessary that he should comply with the usual 
 custom. To which the Englishman answered, 
 “ that he did not believe in transubstantiation.” 
 “ Nor I,” replied the senator; “ but, go down 
 on your knees instantly, or walk out of the 
 church.” 
 
 All religions are tolerated at Venice. The 
 inhabitants used to bury their dead under their 
 churches, there being no other cemetery; but, 
 since the revolution, it has been found necessary, 
 
 h 2 
 
100 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 the better to avoid many inconveniencies, to 
 inter the deceased in the different islands. The 
 Jews, however, were always obliged to bury 
 their relatives at Lido, three miles from the city. 
 
 The Greeks at Venice have an archbishop, 
 who exercises all the episcopal functions of their 
 religion. He has also a seminary for young 
 men coming from Greece, or from the islands. 
 The day on which I went to their mass the 
 archbishop himself officiated. I happened acci¬ 
 dentally to be seated near one of these youths, 
 who informed me, that he was a native of the 
 confines of Epirus in Thessaly, and lived in the 
 district of the former residence of the Oracle of 
 Dodona. 
 
 The Greek mass and ceremony differ much 
 from the Latin. Every one, on entering the 
 church, gives a slight inclination of the body, 
 his face being towards the door of the sanctuary 
 of the altar ; which is the only one in the temple. 
 
 eir entranceand arrival at the altar 
 the audience make an immense number of signs 
 of the cross, with the thumb against the fore¬ 
 head, then right and left, from one extremity 
 to the other, retiring reverentially with a bend 
 of the knee ; advancing afterwards to the altar, 
 and bowing, one after the other, with signs of 
 the most fervent devotion. 
 
VENICE. 
 
 101 
 
 The paintings which are hung on the walls 
 conceal from the people and the choristers what 
 is passing within the sanctuary. When it is 
 lowered like a curtain, every one retires respect¬ 
 fully, and seats himself. The archbishop, on 
 entering, attended by his seminary, goes through 
 the same ceremony, before he puts on his epis¬ 
 copal robes to say mass; which is performed by 
 the individuals of his suite. During the cere¬ 
 mony of mass, the sanctuary is closed, and is 
 only opened at times for the orations to the 
 people, whose voices accompany the benedic¬ 
 tion ; and for the reception of the space that is 
 consecrated for the choristers, and which is held 
 in great respect. The rest of the ceremony 
 consists of singing and prayer. The person 
 who officiates is enclosed in the sanctuary. The 
 prayer composed for St. John Chrysostom, the 
 celebrated patriarch of Constantinople, is re¬ 
 sponded to by the people, with a fervour corres¬ 
 ponding to the object; while the choristers 
 chaunt, and the singing boys unite their voices 
 with all their strength. The shutting up of the 
 sanctuary, during the performance of the liturgy, 
 surprised me the more, as I had been given to 
 understand that the contrary was the practice 
 in the primitive ages of the Greek church. 
 
102 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 In the Armenian church there are two altars ; 
 the one shut up like that of the Greeks; the 
 other placed in the middle of the church, for 
 the private masses. At one of these I assisted 
 one Sunday : it lasted seven hours, beginning 
 early in the morning, and ending at mid-day. 
 The ceremony, in which the people were allowed 
 to take a part, consisted in a young lad putting 
 on and taking off surpluses, and other eccle¬ 
 siastical insignia, of different colours and 
 shapes, at least twenty times ; in lighting a wax 
 torch, and anon extinguishing it; in pacing ra¬ 
 pidly up and down the church, and then resting 
 himself to take breath ; and in placing his thumb 
 or handkerchief on his nether lip. During 
 this, the chaunting of the bishop was heard 
 from the sanctuary ; which was now and then 
 opened, and again shut. The bishop was a very 
 short man, with a most agreeable and intelligent 
 countenance. His pontifical robes were magni¬ 
 ficent : instead of a mitre, he wore a Swiss col¬ 
 lege black cap. In the middle of the mass 
 which was going on in the sanctuary, one of 
 the attendants commenced mass at the second 
 altar, in rather a low tone of voice. There 
 was, in his demeanour and different attitudes, 
 while officiating at the altar, that unaffected ele- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 103 
 
 gance of deportment, which painters denominate 
 “ the grand style.” As he wore a long, thick, 
 white beard, the appearance of this very extra¬ 
 ordinary personage somewhat withdrew my 
 attention from the old gossips by whom I was 
 surrounded, and whose conversation entirely 
 turned on the disputes and tittle-tattle of their 
 respective families and friends. When the 
 whole was over, I exclaimed from the bottom 
 of my heart, Te Deum laudamus ! 
 
 I have heard it said, that the Greeks and 
 Armenians were under certain restrictions, with 
 regard to the exercise of their religious worship. 
 I know not what may have been the case else¬ 
 where, but certainly there were none such at 
 Venice, under the Republic ; as they were only 
 enjoined silence upon those articles which sepa¬ 
 rated them from the Roman church. On the 
 contrary, the Venetians were constantly restrain¬ 
 ing the Catholic clergy from practising sundry 
 impositions. 
 
 The Inquisition was one of the greatest securi¬ 
 ties against the abuses of the clergy, more than of 
 any other class of subjects. The people were 
 often indebted for their lives and liberties to that 
 much-talked-of and much abused tribunal; which 
 never exercised its functions, but in the same 
 way as the English House of Peers interposes its 
 
104 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 power, between the crown and the people. It 
 was a balance, which prevented the Venetian 
 nobility from usurping undue authority, and 
 kept the people in subjection to the laws of the 
 state. 
 
 With regard to liberty of speech, no people 
 on earth enjoyed a larger portion of it than the 
 Venetians. Every coffee-house was a public 
 place of debate. Even St. Mark’s Square was 
 often the resort, where the utterance given to 
 political opinions would make the Procuratia 
 resound with the arguments in favour of this 
 state, and against the other state, during the 
 wars that took place, and especially on the 
 breaking out of the fatal French revolution. 
 
 I am not a Venetian ; but a twenty years’ 
 intercourse with all ranks and classes of that 
 interesting and much injured people, thus au¬ 
 thorizes me to detail facts which have come 
 within my own knowledge, and to assert boldly 
 the honest truth, to the best of my recollection 
 and ability. 
 
( 105 ) 
 
 « 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Reflections on the Conduct 'pursued by Buonaparte towards 
 
 the Italian States . And on the Imitation of that Conduct 
 
 by those who have succeeded him in the Usurpation of the 
 Country. 
 
 I shall now offer a few observations and 
 reflections on the conduct which has been pur¬ 
 sued towards the Italian States, not only by 
 Buonaparte, but by those who have succeeded 
 him in the conquest and government of that 
 ill-fated portion of Europe. 
 
 Attached as I passionately am to a country, 
 so celebrated for its natural beauties and its 
 clime, and so distinguished for centuries as 
 the seat of arts and the sciences; and having, 
 for a space of more than twenty mortal years, 
 witnessed her misfortunes, and been, from a 
 matrimonial alliance, a sharer therein, I cannot 
 help entertaining the pleasing hope, that the 
 day will arrive, when Italy, fair Italy, shall be 
 liberated from her present enthralled condition. 
 Possessing a thorough acquaintance with the 
 
106 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 language of the country, and having lived on 
 terms of the closest intimacy with many indi¬ 
 viduals who were both civilly and politically 
 employed in its government, I have drawn my 
 facts from authentic sources, and particularly 
 that portion of them which relates to the con¬ 
 duct of Buonaparte towards the people of Italy. 
 
 I arrived in that beautiful kingdom at a period 
 of life when the faculties of the mind were 
 expanding themselves with the milk and honey 
 of blooming youth—untainted by false impres¬ 
 sions, unfettered by rank prejudices. The best 
 days of my existence were passed under that 
 happy sky. There were my limited talents cul¬ 
 tivated ; there were they flattered and admired; 
 and the hospitality I so generously met with at 
 the hands of the natives—by whom I was looked 
 upon as their countrywoman—induced me to 
 adopt the once happy soil as my second patria. 
 
 Circumstances connected with the troubles of 
 the times afterwards compelled me to withdraw 
 myself from the continent, and return to my 
 native land. Experience has taught me, neither 
 to court the smiles of the great, nor to fear their 
 unmerited frowns. It has been my endeavour, 
 throughout the following observations and re¬ 
 flections, to steer as clear from party prejucices, 
 as it is possible for one to do, whose heart is 
 
VENICE. 
 
 107 
 
 still bleeding from the effects of the envenomed 
 shafts which family misfortunes have there im¬ 
 planted. I have ever loved my country, and 
 revered the principles of her inimitable system 
 of government; which, like her own sturdy oak, 
 after enduring for centuries the “ peltings of 
 the pitiless storm,” has grown up to maturity. 
 I have ever mistrusted the mania of modern 
 philosophers for violent changes, and their 
 idle notions of human perfectibility ; well con¬ 
 vinced, that the tendency of their cold and 
 selfish principles was to deluge Europe with 
 blood, and to undermine the palladium of re¬ 
 ligion ;—a general toleration of which is, in my 
 mind, the first principle that unites civilized 
 society, and the brightest ornament of the 
 English Constitution. 
 
 From the influence of his revolutionary sys¬ 
 tem upon all classes of mankind, Buonaparte 
 has inflicted on Europe the deadly curse of an 
 unsettled generation. In consequence of that 
 fatal influence, I was necessitated to spend 
 several years of my life away from my family, 
 in different countries; where the sight of the 
 misery to which the people were reduced, by 
 that pernicious system, afforded me ample means 
 of examining into those old grievances, which 
 they had been induced to exchange for new 
 
108 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 and uncertain advantages ;—advantages never 
 to be realized, and not for a moment to be put 
 in competition with the blessings they had lost ", 
 namely, moral principle, integrity, tranquillity, 
 confidence between man and man ! 
 
 Such were the effects of Buonaparte’s systeme 
 egoiste! Let me intreat some of the upper 
 classes in this country steadily to bear in mind, 
 that the French Revolution set out with a reform 
 levelled at the property of individuals, and not 
 against the above principles. Let them recollect 
 that, in order to get possession of that property, 
 hatred, malice, and every degree of wickedness, 
 were lurking under the foul disguise, until the 
 nefarious object had been accomplished. Who 
 were the victims of private assassinations ? who 
 were massacred in the prisons ? who were daily 
 butchered at the public scaffolds ?—the mis¬ 
 guided nobility, persons of rank and fortune, 
 rich and peaceable merchants, fathers of fami¬ 
 lies, honest and quiet housekeepers ! 
 
 The executions against the rebel mob only 
 took place when Buonaparte had no further 
 occasion for their services ; and then, when they 
 became clamorous for the blood-money, the 
 promised reward of their services, they were 
 put to death, from a fear that they might 
 discover their employers. These are facts which 
 
VENICE. 
 
 109 
 
 cannot be disputed, as they notoriously occurred 
 wherever Buonaparte made his appearance with 
 his army of regenerators ; and such conduct on 
 his part was the more unpardonable, as some of 
 the best writers of France had been employed 
 by the Corsican in composing, and in circulating 
 all over Italy, works containing the soundest 
 principles, and enforcing the strictest order and 
 discipline. 
 
 “ Les Italiens,” says Madame de Stael, whom 
 I had the honour to be intimately acquainted 
 with, in the years 1791 and 1792, as well as 
 with Monsieur and Madame Neckar; “ les 
 Italiens sont plus remarquables par ce qu’ils out 
 ete, et par ce qu’ils pourrontetre, que par ce qu’ils 
 sont maintenant.” The sentimentis a correct one; 
 but, Madame de Stael saw the Italians at a time 
 when it was almost impossible to give a decided 
 opinion respecting them ; and, though I entertain 
 the greatest respect for the talents of that extraor¬ 
 dinary woman, as well as for her private virtues, 
 I cannot help differing with her, as to the general 
 character of that people, and of thinking them 
 still capable of shewing themselves worthy 
 descendants of the conquerors of the world. 
 
 Strike off the head of a man, and the body 
 becomes a useless trunk. The head of the 
 Italians, considered as a nation, has long since 
 
110 
 
 V E N ICE. 
 
 been struck off by their foreign oppressors, who 
 have most unwisely and impolitically kept them 
 divided ; and which state of division has ever 
 had, and must continue to have, a decided influ¬ 
 ence on the moral energies of a great people. 
 
 If it be absolutely necessary to divide a 
 nation, in consequence of that nation having be¬ 
 come the mistress of the world, why was France, 
 after the dethronement of Napoleon, left in 
 statu quo ? 
 
 The present race of Italians exhibit the dis¬ 
 tressing spectacle of a body of nineteen millions 
 of men, wanting the energies of a head. Who 
 have been their sovereigns ? And, what have 
 those sovereigns done for them, during the 
 space of seven centuries ? They have been 
 schooling them in the lessons of the ancient 
 Greek masters, who, after the execrable Sylla 
 had destroyed Greece, taught the people to 
 forget their past condition, instead of improving 
 their morals, and enlarging their virtues. 
 
 Buonaparte divided the Italians still more 
 than their preceding yoke-masters had done. 
 Take a lion, or any other savage animal, draw 
 his teeth, pare the nails of his paws, and the 
 creature becomes tame as a lady’s lap-dog. 
 So it is at present with the Italians. Misery, and 
 division upon division, have annihilated their 
 
VENICE. 
 
 Ill 
 
 former Jierte of character; and I am sorry 
 to add, that the conduct observed towards 
 them by the successor of the exile of St. He¬ 
 lena, is little calculated to better their con¬ 
 dition ! 
 
 Spell-bound by the rapid ascension of that 
 ambitious rocket, hurled from the revolutionary 
 mortar, the several cabinets of Europe, not 
 excepting that of St. James, appear to have 
 imagined, that an imitation, on their part, of the 
 conduct of that Scourge of the Universe must 
 inevitably be attended with success ; provided 
 they took care to avoid those fatal errors which 
 occasioned his overthrow. I allude to such extra¬ 
 vagant projects as the invasion of Spain and 
 of Russia; and more especially the latter, at 
 such an advanced period of the year. 
 
 What a puerile imbecility do notions like 
 these betray ! As if an Omnipotent Maker of 
 the Universe had but one mode of inflicting 
 punishment on man ! As if tyranny, and fraud, 
 and corruption, did not carry in their train the 
 very elements of retributive j ustice ! 
 
 Another striking proof, if any were wanted, 
 of the general fatuity, is to be discovered in the 
 rage for imitating Napoleon. For scarcely is 
 there a private individual of any weight in 
 society, who does not endeavour to inspire 
 
112 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 those around him with a sort of respect, by 
 casting over his own actions that sort of doubt 
 and perplexity, which the French Emperor 
 uniformly practised, allowing no one to guess 
 what the resolves of the mighty man were 
 to be ! 
 
 How silly, and at the same time how knavish 
 this kind of conduct often is ! In deeds, perpe¬ 
 tuating his evil spirit ; in words, decrying and 
 execrating his foul actions! With one hand, 
 begriming and pulling down the heraldic in¬ 
 signia of his rule—with the other, dispersing 
 and sending about his image in every direc¬ 
 tion : the coin in circulation throughout France 
 and Italy still bearing his image and super¬ 
 scription : one day tearing to pieces and 
 vilifying that, which, on the next, they uphold 
 and extol to the very skies ; reminding one of 
 the eternal toil to which poets have condemned 
 the wicked after death, for the crimes they 
 were guilty of while living— 
 
 -“ et Danai genus 
 
 Infame, clamnatusque longi 
 Sisyphus JEolides lahoris." 
 
( 113 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 The Subject continued.—Buonaparte considered as a General 
 
 . Th e Napoleon Military System described . His Mode 
 
 of treating the Soldiers . Strict Discipline of his Armies 
 
 . Sonic of the leading Causes of his Overthrow pointed 
 
 ou t . Origin of Revolutions in a State. 
 
 Now that Napoleon is gone the way of all 
 flesh, it is the fashion to eulogize and puff him 
 off as a great man ; and, if the attempted pal¬ 
 liation were not intended as an apology for the 
 adoption of his despotic measures, I should not 
 be unwilling, to a certain extent, to join in the 
 encomium. 
 
 As a general, in the hour of battle, he shewed 
 himself a god of war—a very Mars. Possessing 
 a consummate knowledge of the military science, 
 he was, for quickness of intellect and prompti¬ 
 tude of execution, altogether without a parallel. 
 
 But, the thing which stamped him a general 
 of the first rate was his always commencing 
 the battle, and striking the first blow. For while 
 he thereby infused the confidence of hope into 
 
 VOL. I. r 
 
114 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 his own troops, he generated the chill of despair 
 into those of his adversary. He would not be 
 dictated to by any mortal breathing. Accus¬ 
 tomed, by superior skill, to baffle the plans of 
 his adversary, he ever took the lead, and 
 preserved it to the last; thereby striking terror 
 and dismay into the bosoms of the stoutest. 
 The carrying on of a defensive warfare he left 
 for those feeble souls, who were either paralyzed 
 through fear, cramped and fettered by respon¬ 
 sibility, or ignorant of human nature. 
 
 And, did not Napoleon act wisely in so doing? 
 Admitting the contending bodies to be of equal 
 strength, is it not a fact, that the assailant is 
 ever the most formidable ? Let us suppose the 
 field of battle to be a billiard table : does not 
 the propelled ball drive on the other ball ? In 
 fact, so far from the resisting object having the 
 advantage, it is not certain that it will ever have 
 an opportunity of striking a single blow. The 
 tactics of Hannibal were invariably those of 
 assault. The wary Fabius has been lauded for 
 his prudence, in standing upon the defensive ; 
 when, in fact, he had no other alternative, in the 
 miserable, derelict extremities of Rome, whose 
 numerous legions had been successively de¬ 
 stroyed by the daring Carthaginian. The far- 
 famed retreats of Moreau, and of other great 
 
VENICE. 
 
 115 
 
 generals, not forgetting that of the Ten Thou¬ 
 sand Greeks, are feats of war which we take no 
 delight in extolling. When speaking of discord 
 and its furies—of the crush of battle and the 
 shock of arms—it is the Macedonian, it is the 
 Roman, it is the french Emperor, whose dread 
 achievements elicit our wonder and admiration. 
 It is the progress of the conqueror that we 
 applaud. Suppose a couple of gladiators en¬ 
 gaged the first lunge may disable the opponent 
 foi ever. In short, even in the brute creation, 
 strength discovers itself in the same way; the 
 more feeble of the two very rarely commencing 
 the onset. 
 
 In a period of peace, indeed, the case is 
 different. Then, the ministers of a country 
 ought to be passive. To conquer the more 
 surely, they ought to wait patiently; success 
 being ever the object in view. 
 
 Though by no means convinced of their 
 originality, I am, furthermore, willing to allow 
 that some of Napoleon’s projects were vast in 
 the extieme, and that they were arranged with 
 a profound knowledge of universal society. 
 Egyptians and Italians, Jews and Gentiles, he 
 alike took a part in their concerns. Germans 
 and Spaniards, Turks and Russians, were chess¬ 
 men, which he managed and moved to and fro 
 
 i 2 
 
116 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 like another Philidor, rendering them subsidiary 
 to his renown, and tributary to his army ; which 
 was composed of a portion of each. France 
 lie overawed by strangers, and all other nations 
 by foreign bayonets. Lest elfeminacy should 
 creep in amongst them, his soldiers were never 
 suffered to remain long in one place, but were 
 marched to fresh quarters every three or four 
 months : thus, flinging “ resty sloth” to the 
 dogs ; and, by keeping up their natural buoyancy 
 and activity of spirits, preparing them for that 
 strict discipline so essentially necessary in the 
 hour of battle. 
 
 Such men, in fact, were the veterans who 
 perished in the snows of Russia. So accus¬ 
 tomed were they implicitly to execute the orders 
 of their General, that none of the troops be¬ 
 longing to the other sovereigns of Europe had 
 been able to cope with them. Neither ought 
 England to repine at this ; since, in the plenitude 
 of Napoleon’s power, she achieved every thing 
 that circumstances would admit of. Truly did 
 that man exclaim, that to himself only was he 
 indebted for his overthrow. Aye, and for all 
 the disasters of the Russian expedition! Had 
 he panted less for an individuality of authority : 
 had he, both as a monarch and a captain, sought 
 for exclusive supremacy with an ardour a little 
 
VENICE. 
 
 117 
 
 more tempered : had he been willing to share 
 but a small portion of his laurels with his com¬ 
 panions in arms—Massena, Augereau, and the 
 other mighty champions of democracy and of 
 the French Republic, who had sprung up simul¬ 
 taneously with himself: had not the fumes of 
 personal ambition, the venom of adulation, and 
 the blandishments of vice, warped his talents 
 and intoxicated his understanding : had not all 
 these things taken place, a forest of heroes 
 would, in defiance of the hyperborean blast, 
 have grown up around his throne, and enabled 
 him to laugh to scorn the combined efforts of 
 his enemies. 
 
 Buonaparte was more dreaded by the gene¬ 
 rality of mankind than he was esteemed. This 
 was abundantly shewn in the critical moment 
 of his authority. Had he practised less cunning 
 and low shuffle, he would have shewn himself 
 a better politician. “ Aye, to be sure,” have 
 exclaimed some, “ the unfortunate always com¬ 
 mit errors !” Although the sentiment is sarcas¬ 
 tically thrown out, it is nevertheless a just one. 
 And, of all the crowned heads, Buonaparte was 
 assuredly the most culpable : since, the man 
 who had not been brought up from his youth in 
 the trammels of royalty ; who had had far better 
 opportunities than the offspring of Kings, of 
 
 1 3 
 
118 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 studying human nature, and of thereby avoiding 
 its prejudices, ought, above all things, not to 
 have forfeited the regard of the people, by the 
 resumption of those most tyrannical and op¬ 
 pressive ordinances, to overturn which the 
 French Revolution had exploded. 
 
 Reckless of the consequences, he studied too, 
 in imitation of the other powers, to bring about 
 a plethora in the body politic, by increasing, 
 beyond all due proportion, the uppermost ranks 
 of society. Now, whenever the vital sap ceases 
 to flow in the minor and inferior vessels, a para¬ 
 lysis, or some other fatal crisis, necessarily 
 ensues. When the subordinate parts become 
 lifeless and parched up, the whole fabric soon 
 totters before the blast, and the first hurricane 
 levels it in the dust. When we shall see a wise 
 limitation organized against every inordinate 
 amplification of property, then, and not till 
 then, shall I consider, that an advancement really 
 and truly beneficial has been effected in the 
 science of legislation ; convinced, as I am, that 
 the enormous disparity which exists between 
 the property and possessions of mankind, is the 
 great origin and well-spring of moral evil. 
 
 Not that I would, on any account, recommend 
 a sudden revulsion. I would merely propose 
 an amelioration, founded upon the immutable 
 
VENICE. 
 
 119 
 
 dictates of nature. As for the convulsions and 
 revolutions of society, who that has endeavoured 
 to search after truth, in the depth of her re¬ 
 cesses, does not know, that the very schemes 
 which are planned for the prevention of those 
 convulsions, invariably concoct and bring them 
 to maturity ? For, whenever a pressure becomes 
 too excessive to be endured, the consequences, 
 as we well know from fatal experience, are 
 inevitable. 
 
 I do not say, as so many others have done, that 
 “ the people rebel.” On the contrary, I assert, 
 that there is no such thing as the spontaneous 
 setting in motion of a mass so besotted as, time 
 out of mind, “ the people” have proved them¬ 
 selves to be. Those books of history, which 
 tell us to the contrary, are the effusions of ig¬ 
 norance or of falsehood. Of cour se I am 
 speaking of decided and downright revolutions; 
 and which revolutions have invariably had their 
 origin from some other quarter than that of the 
 yawning and ignorant canaglia. An extreme 
 cupidity at the fountain head of the Govern¬ 
 ment—a sucking eagerness at the mouth, to 
 the exhaustion of the other parts of the body— 
 rapine on the part of pro-consuls at their dis¬ 
 tant seats of government, who, in the space of 
 a few years, return to the mother-country, 
 
 i 4 > 
 
120 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 not merely with their shattered fortunes re¬ 
 paired, but abounding in wealth—these, these 
 are the things which bring ruin to an empire ! 
 Remote provinces have ever been the scenes of 
 pillage and of malversation—even in the times 
 of ancient Rome. 
 
 First came Asia. She was subdued by the 
 force of arms. Her luxuries, together with her 
 wealth, found their way into Italy. Circum¬ 
 stances again changed; and, after the accu¬ 
 mulated treasures had, in the lapse of a few 
 centuries, disappeared, the taste for Asiatic aro¬ 
 matics, drapery, and what not, rather increased 
 than declined. So that subsequently, and after 
 the chains of vassalage had been broken in 
 Asia, its inhabitants continued to hold Rome 
 tributary ; and more than retrieved—more than 
 avenged—their former misfortunes.— 
 
 << Nunc patimur longce pads mala : scevior armis 
 
 “ Luxuria incubuit, victumque ulciscitur orbem." 
 
 “ Now, all the evils of long peace are ours; 
 
 “ Luxury, more terrible than hostile powers, 
 
 « Her baleful influence wide around has hurl'd, 
 
 And well aveng’d the subjugated world.” * 
 
 * Gifford’s Juvenal. 
 
( 121 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 The Subject continued . The Napoleon Military System of 
 
 Government further inquired into . Its Effects on the 
 
 Customs and Habits of the French People . Napoleon’s 
 
 deceitful and crafiy Policy exposed . His Surrender to the 
 
 British . And Death at St. Helena. 
 
 But, to bring my theory down to more modern 
 times, and more recent vicissitudes. 
 
 Turning the cabinet into the camp, we find 
 Napoleon studying political economy more like 
 a General than a Sovereign. Trade he des¬ 
 pised ; commerce he crushed: while, on the 
 other hand, he exacted enormous contributions 
 for the support of his armies. If poverty be 
 contemptible, he took the sure and certain way 
 of rendering all those who were concerned in 
 traffic, objects of thorough derision. And so 
 far was his hatred towards England satiated ; 
 for he had certainly the satisfaction of seeing 
 his followers regarding “ la nation boutiquiere ” 
 with actual scorn. 
 
 Now, in the then state of things, such a line 
 of conduct was fraught with intolerable evils. 
 
122 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Had the military habits been free from licen¬ 
 tiousness, then indeed would the degradation of 
 commerce have been attended with conse¬ 
 quences less fatal, than those in which he soon 
 found himself involved. But, Napoleon was par¬ 
 tial and unjust—a capricious upstart—in many 
 instances, a tyrant—possessing less of the univer¬ 
 sal ken of the eagle, than of the limited vision 
 of the hawk ; more of the cunning of the lawyer, 
 than of the sterling wisdom of the legislator; 
 thereby proclaiming himself, as it were, the true 
 son of the attorney of Ajaccio. Such was the 
 fatal misprision of his system of civil govern¬ 
 ment, that his whole kingdom, nay, all Europe, 
 became a sort of general barrack, a garrison, a 
 species of tented field, subject to martial regu¬ 
 lations. The military mania spread far and 
 wide ; and thus were the locusts, the harpies, 
 the sluggards, permitted to nestle and swarm 
 amidst a miserable population, unable to resist 
 their insufferable vexations, and incapable of 
 appeasing their manifold cravings—whether of 
 external vanity and parade, or of vitiated and 
 depraved appetite. 
 
 Throughout France, every thing appeared to 
 be done for the accommodation of the army. 
 Her theatres, her public walks, her coffee-houses, 
 her restaurateurs, and her gardens, all served as 
 
VENICE. 
 
 1 23 
 
 so many focuses of recreation for the officers. 
 Ask for a breakfast at a Paris hotel, and the 
 waiter will fetch it for you from the neighbour¬ 
 ing cafe. Indeed, there is hardly any such 
 thing in France as an English fireside—a home ! 
 Strangers of moderate fortune, in passing through 
 Paris, resort to coffee-houses and traiteurs for 
 their meals; as they generally find it more 
 comfortable to do so than to take them at their 
 lodgings. Frenchmen, it is true, are fond of 
 society to an extreme ; great babblers ; and more 
 occupied with other people’s concerns than with 
 their own domestic affairs, which they leave 
 almost entirely to the ladies. 
 
 This rage for gadding about, and gossipping, 
 and making visits, is more or less prevalent all 
 over the Continent; and by it the mental ener¬ 
 gies become greatly exhausted. Nor can I exone¬ 
 rate a considerable portion of my fair country¬ 
 women from the like imputation. 
 
 Nay, the very trees and houses in France 
 partake of the same gregarious character. In 
 Burgundy, for instance, and in several other 
 provinces, many a fertile spot is to be seen, upon 
 which, for seven or eight miles together, not a 
 rustic hut or shed is to be discovered, nor any 
 signs of social life ; although the deserted fields 
 are abundant in the productions of Ceres and 
 
124 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Pomona; reminding one of those fairy tales, 
 which describe the sudden appearance of sump¬ 
 tuous banquets magically raised, without the 
 intervention of human agency, and only wit¬ 
 nessed by the sweet warblers of the grove. In 
 a moment, however, we arrive at some populous 
 city; and, straight, the face of every thing be¬ 
 comes changed ! As for the trees, we find them 
 huddled together in clumps, in small woods, 
 or, soldier-like, in rank and file, and in platoons. 
 Geometrical figures, of all shapes and sizes, are 
 rigidly adhered to, in the laying out of their 
 groves and gardens, by the French planters of 
 the leafy tribe. Nature, which ought “ never 
 to be forgot,” is entirely lost sight of. All is 
 formal—all is monotonous— all is stiff’— 
 
 “ No pleasing intricacies intervene, 
 
 “ No artful wildness to perplex the scene ; 
 
 “ Grove nods at grove, each alley has a brother, 
 “ And half the platform just reflects the other.” 
 
 What shocked me most, undet the Napoleon 
 sway, was the intrusion of the soldiery, dressed 
 in full uniform, up to the very altars of the 
 churches: an impious, daring, and most odious 
 custom this, which now, or at least very recently, 
 was permitted by his Imperial Majesty of Aus¬ 
 tria. While every one is kneeling before the 
 
VENICE. 
 
 125 
 
 image of God, and intent upon his worship, 
 neither by genuflexion, nor by the taking off of 
 caps, nor by any other outward signs of devotion, 
 do the soldiery join in the ceremony ! Some 
 slight inclination of the body may possibly take 
 place, on the elevation of the host; but that, 
 I believe, is all. These irreverent practices 
 were especially observed by the French, in the 
 time of their Emperor; and the Germans, in 
 Italy, have not been behind-hand in follow¬ 
 ing the example ; to the great scandal of true 
 religion. 
 
 Why admit soldiers, or indeed any one, into 
 their sanctuaries, who will not consent to adhere 
 to the prescribed ritual ? Surely no reasonable 
 mortal can object to uncover his head, in a place 
 consecrated to the worship of the Supreme 
 Being, when the rest of the audience are all 
 doing the same. As for the impious remark of 
 intoxicated presumption, that soldiers should 
 obey no orders but those of their General, and 
 that the practice I am reprobating has been in 
 vogue time immemorial, I need only refer to 
 the natural disposition of the soul upon ven¬ 
 turing into battle, and that involuntary recourse 
 in spirit, to the God of Battles, which takes 
 place during the existence of imminent danger, 
 whether by sea or land. The most eminent of 
 
126 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 heroes have, in all ages, discovered the pro- 
 foundest reverence for the Deity ; and, in proof 
 of the correctness of my assertion, I could 
 adduce recent instances, from the conduct of 
 some of our own most distinguished naval and 
 military commanders. 
 
 But to return to the views and projects of 
 Napoleon. His eagle, as I before said, was ahawk. 
 That Roman expansive ken, and that great¬ 
 ness of soul, which none of the other powers of 
 Europe at all understood, the French failed to 
 attain. The mind of their chief, cramped in a 
 great degree by local admeasurements, and 
 narrowed by constant calculations and the 
 details of a field of battle, passed over other 
 interests of paramount importance. All classes 
 of the community were rendered subordinate to 
 his troops ; as if the profession of arms was 
 alone deserving of notice—thereby proving him¬ 
 self to be a soldier, and little or nothing beyond 
 it. Whatever his demonstrations to the contrary 
 may have been, there can scarcely be a doubt, 
 that his talents were chiefly confined to the 
 science of war. 
 
 A sovereign should strive to be like the 
 Almighty—wise, impartial, true, beneficent, and 
 just. Now, without stopping to inquire in what 
 degree the divine attributes here enumerated 
 
VENICE. 
 
 127 
 
 were or were not discoverable in the actions of 
 the individual in question, I shall, for the 
 present, only advert to the third; namely, his 
 love of truth : and although the vox populi is 
 not in all instances the vox Dei —there being 
 but a very slender portion of celestial intelli¬ 
 gence shed over the minds of the multitude— 
 yet, in the common opinion, which charges Buo¬ 
 naparte with a total indifference to this God-like 
 quality, I in a great measure acquiesce. And 
 his extraordinary abilities only serve to aggra¬ 
 vate his guilt j since talent is the knowledge of 
 truth, and a gift of God : consequently the 
 suppression of the boon is a flying in the face 
 of the Great Giver. 
 
 His deceitful and crafty policy—that evil 
 spirit, whose deadly influence appears to pervade 
 the great mass of society—low, and corrupt, 
 and base, and wretched as it is, clung to him to 
 the last. It is my conscientious conviction, 
 that the sole drift of his outrageous hostility 
 against Sir Hudson Lowe, the vigilant Governor 
 of St. Helena, was to stir up a commotion in 
 the island. Had he succeeded in gaining a free 
 intercourse with the garrison, he would next 
 have tampered with the officers. 
 
 Neither have I the charity to suppose that 
 he would not have so far succeeded in seducing 
 
128 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 some of them, as to have weakened, to a certain 
 degree, their allegiance to their own Sovereign. 
 Not that I entertain the least doubt of the 
 fidelity of British officers. Nevertheless, in what 
 way a constant intercourse at St. Helena with 
 such a man as the tremendous Napoleon—a de¬ 
 posed Emperor too !—united to his consummate 
 skill in fathoming character, might have ope¬ 
 rated on individuals of his own profession, it 
 would be difficult to predict. Many a man has 
 passed for a traitor, merely because he has been 
 unable to refuse a solicited favour, to every ap¬ 
 pearance trivial, but in reality rendered very 
 important from circumstances. 
 
 His hour was however come. The man who 
 had entangled myriads in his snares—the man 
 who had allured thousands by the melody of his 
 promises—was at length caught in the very toils 
 which he had himself invented. As the bar¬ 
 barous Muscovite learnt of Charles XII. 
 of Sweden the mode of waging war, so were 
 Napoleon’s political tactics most sedulously 
 studied, and most closely imitated. And, 
 accordingly, he was at last taken by the same 
 subtle and mellifluous contrivance of holiday 
 promises. England was held up as the sole 
 asylum for downcast sovereigns—the sanc¬ 
 tuary of safety—the city of refuge —the harbour 
 
V E N‘I C E. 
 
 129 
 
 of repose, and security, and freedom. Witness 
 the Bourbons, and his own brother Lucien, and 
 many others. 
 
 Napoleon, therefore, fearlessly ascended the 
 Bellerophon. But it turned out a monster to 
 devour him. It was no chimera ! All, alas, was 
 sad reality ; both as it regarded the remainder of 
 his brief existence, as well as its awfully instruc¬ 
 tive termination— 
 
 “ Mors sola Jatetur, 
 
 Quantula sint hominum corpuscula /” 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 The Subject continued . The Holy Alliance described . 
 
 Return to the Condition of Italy under the Austrian yoke 
 
 . Impracticability of assimilating the German and Italian 
 
 character. 
 
 Having said thus much with regard to the 
 policy of Napoleon, it will naturally be expected 
 that I should next touch upon the conduct of 
 those who have succeeded him in the govern¬ 
 ment of the affairs of Europe. The reader 
 must not, however, expect me to enter too 
 minutely into a subject, which, at every turn, is 
 
 VOL. i. 
 
 K 
 
ISO 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 fraught with so much inconvenience,—disclaim¬ 
 ing, as I do, certain personalities. Let the base 
 reptiles remain in their lurking holes, for the 
 present : only the ostensible personages shall 
 be now noticed by me. 
 
 “ The Holy Alliance !” How awful, how 
 presumptuous, the appellation! Trenching closely 
 on the attributes of Divinity itself; and thereby 
 challenging inquiry, how far they deserve the 
 assumed Vicegerency. 
 
 As far as my limited faculties enable me to 
 form a judgment, the labours of this alliance 
 have tended, hitherto, to rivet more closely the 
 chains forged for the sufferers by their Corsican 
 oppressor. The “ holy” copartnership proclaim, 
 that their prerogatives do not emanate from the 
 people, but come down upon them, like the 
 mantle of Elijah, from the Godhead itself! 
 Good. And therefore am I the more completely 
 justified in balancing against the divine attri¬ 
 butes which they assume, the actual conduct of 
 the several potentates who are parties to the 
 said holy—most holy—alliance ! 
 
 But, where should I find language sufficiently 
 powerful to convey to my reader the actual 
 result of such an inquiry ? On one hand, the 
 arrogance of the creature, and his feeble and 
 imperfect and confined and variable notions of 
 
VENICE. 
 
 181 
 
 things the most simple! On the other hand, 
 the God of Nature, who— 
 
 “ Though chang’d in all, is still in all the same, 
 
 Great in the earth as in th’ ethereal frame; 
 
 Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, 
 
 Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees; 
 
 Lives through all life, extends through all extent; 
 Spreads undivided, operates unspent; 
 
 Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part, 
 
 As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart; 
 
 As full, as perfect, in vile Man that mourns, 
 
 As the rapt seraph that adores and burns; 
 
 To Him no high, no low, no great, no small; 
 
 He fills, he bounds, connects, and equals all.” 
 
 These sublunary monarchs, with their hun¬ 
 dred eyes, are incessantly on the watch, pry¬ 
 ing about, lest any of their bondsmen should 
 escape their vigilance, and devising innume¬ 
 rable projects to shut out the rays of truth; 
 whereas, the Almighty lives in light— 
 
 “ for God is light; 
 
 And never but in unapproached light, 
 
 Dwelt from eternity.” 
 
 The most artful impediments have been 
 thrown, by these monarchs, in the way of every 
 individual who may, at any time, have been 
 anxious to promote the genuine happiness of 
 mankind. Every such individual has been 
 
 k 2 
 
132 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 branded as a jacobin, a demagogue, a ruffian, a 
 rebel. The foulest slanders have been heaped 
 upon his head. He trembles at the atrocious 
 injustice which he experiences at the hands of 
 mortals who have usurped to themselves the 
 characteristics of divinity; and, though feeling 
 a consciousness of his ability to re-invigorate the 
 fallen energies of his countrymen, and to restore 
 to them the blessings which they have forfeited, 
 as much by feebleness as by direct corruption— 
 such a phalanx of demons uprear their furious 
 crests in terrific array before him - such innu¬ 
 merable difficulties and dangers beset him in his 
 path—that he stops short appalled ; and, without 
 giving a free utterance to his indignant feelings, 
 he leaves it to God, in his own good time, to 
 speed the righteous work, through the operation 
 of his Almighty power. 
 
 After reflections like these, the mind involun¬ 
 tarily turns to the condition of Italy, as I have 
 pourtrayed that condition in the early pages of 
 this volume ; and, if I were to confine myself to 
 the present state of the Venetian territory, the 
 observations which it would be my duty to make 
 thereon would apply equally to the rest of the 
 newly acquired German dominions. The same 
 unfeeling schemes of plunder are every where 
 pursued; many of them introduced by the 
 
VENICE. 
 
 133 
 
 French, those ministers of rapine, and continued 
 since their defeat, under various pretexts— 
 exactions, grievous in point of substance, and 
 galling beyond measure to the feelings ; trea¬ 
 chery ; a false representation of things ; expres¬ 
 sions replete with the semblance of compassion, 
 but, in reality, altogether hollow and delusive. 
 
 Instead of genuine sympathy, accompanied 
 with positive redress, some new device is con¬ 
 stantly resorted to, to increase the sufferings of 
 the miserable Italians ; absolutely forcing upon 
 their memories the language of Scripture. The 
 German tyrants seem to be aware that their 
 power can be but of short duration; and there¬ 
 fore are they striving to make the most of it. 
 Be that as it may, the wretched sufferers ex¬ 
 claim, that “ Satan has overtaken them in great 
 wrath.” Venice, once the emporium of all Eu¬ 
 rope, is become a “ waste howling wilderness.” 
 
 The rapid disappearance, within the space of 
 a few years, of the immense treasures of that 
 city, announces an entire dislocation of society 
 and a total defacement of her beautiful edifices, 
 at no very distant period, if her present masters 
 should persevere in the harsh and unfeeling 
 conduct towards her, which they have hitherto 
 adopted. It is unmanly and base, it is cruel 
 and infamous, to trample thus on the prostrate 
 
 k 3 
 
134 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 victim, reduced to the extreme of languor, by 
 protracted and accumulated misfortunes. Let 
 us, however, hope for better days ; and that the 
 sun of England’s glory will, ere long, extend a 
 portion of its generous rays to depressed Italy! 
 
 Indeed, I cannot help entertaining a belief, 
 that the friends of suffering humanity will not 
 relax an iota of their exertions, until the entire 
 of that magnificent country shall have had its 
 injuries redressed—-a country, compared with 
 which the much vaunted France is a mere 
 warren, a cheerless desert, a bleak and hungry 
 waste. Not that I mean to represent the latter 
 kingdom as a barren wilderness, if duly cul¬ 
 tivated : I only wish to throw out, that France, 
 and, generally speaking, the soil of all the other 
 countries of Europe, are sterile, when brought 
 in competition with Venetian Lombardy, and 
 other portions of the territory of the former 
 Queen of the terraqueous globe. During the 
 summer season, almost every tree in it is loaded 
 with fruit of the most delicious quality. In 
 despite of neglect, and of obstacles of all sorts, 
 the earth teems with every blessing which Pro¬ 
 vidence, in his bounty, has bestowed on his 
 creatures; and that in such abundance, as to 
 astonish every traveller coming from beyond 
 the Alps. 
 
VENICE. 
 
 135 
 
 But, “ for whose use,” I ask, is the sky of 
 Italy so pure—its air so mild and serene —its 
 earth so prolific ? Hear the answer of Austria : 
 
 “ 'Tis for mine ; 
 
 For me kind Nature wakes her genial pow'r, 
 
 Suckles each herb, and spreads out ev’ry flow’r; 
 Annual for me the grape, the rose, renew 
 The juice nectarious, and the balmy dew; 
 
 For me the mine a thousand treasures brings, 
 
 For me health gushes from a thousand springs; 
 
 Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me rise ; 
 
 My footstool earth, my canopy the skies.” 
 
 O, what delightful country seats could the 
 English, with their excellent taste for laying 
 out grounds, erect in Italy ; where it is quite 
 common to see bowers formed of the lime-tree 
 and the vine, bending under a superabundant 
 product! In proof of my assertion, I ap¬ 
 peal to every one who has been fortunate 
 enough to see the grounds of the English gentry 
 settled in Italy; for instance, the gardens of 
 my friend and countrywoman, the Countess de 
 Durfort, who resides at a short distance from 
 Venice. 
 
 And then, again, as to paintings and the 
 other productions of the fine arts ; more of them 
 are to be met with in any one of the great 
 cities of Italy—Rome, Florence, Venice, &c., 
 
 J 
 
 K 4 
 
136 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 than in all France—throwing Germany into the 
 bargain ! 
 
 To behold regions on every side thus rich 
 and populous, groaning under a yoke forged 
 for them by hordes of drowsy, lubberly Aus¬ 
 trians, who come down in droves from the 
 Tyrolean mountains, at all seasons of the year, 
 with packs on their backs, containing scarcely a 
 second garment, to the dismay of the poor 
 Italian, who therein foresees, with renewed 
 anguish, the augmentation of his own miseries, 
 and the metamorphosis, in the space of two or 
 three years, of these beggarly intruders, into 
 stern, and hard-hearted, and wealthy pro¬ 
 prietors—to behold, I say, this fine, intelligent 
 people mixed up with the dull, clod-hopping 
 Germans, reminds one of the amalgamation of 
 lead with quicksilver ; the jumbling together of 
 masses the most heterogeneous. We often hear 
 of the marriage of a beautiful and accomplished 
 female to a clumsy boor or a drunken sot; and 
 of the union of a man of sober disposition and 
 enlightened understanding with a fiery virago, 
 a very Zantippe, who stamps and storms about 
 the house, while the worthy husband is calmly 
 occupied in solving some difficult problem ap¬ 
 pertaining to the regions of intellect—recalling 
 to our recollection the actual existence of the 
 
VENICE. 
 
 137 
 
 iron age, and the wars of the Titans against 
 heaven—the attempt, in short, to repress and 
 subdue spirit by gross and inert matter. 
 
 Of the various nations of Europe, the Ger¬ 
 mans are the most doltish, the Italians the 
 most sprightly; and the approximation of the 
 two affords a fresh instance of the contact 
 which frequently takes place between extremes. 
 Such a state of things, however, is never lasting. 
 Either an amelioration of condition, or an en¬ 
 tire separation between the parties must take 
 place. And, confident I am, that the very 
 first Englishman who shall fly to the rescue of 
 the fair dames of Italy, will find them impatient 
 for flight, and eager to escape from the tobacco 
 fumes, and the gin, and the sauer leroute, and the 
 other German messes ; not to mention the innu¬ 
 merable restraints, past all endurance, imposed 
 on them by their detested paramours. 
 
 For my part, I am at all times inclined to 
 trust very much to national character; and, as 
 Englishmen are well known to be as prompt in 
 lending their assistance to suffering humanity, as 
 they are alive to the slightest rumour of delin¬ 
 quency, we may reasonably look for the bene¬ 
 ficial interference of the British Government, 
 as soon as it shall become truly instructed; 
 with respect to the real condition of Italy, and 
 
138 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 the miserable plight to which a horde of unre¬ 
 lenting tyrants have reduced her, by their 
 unheard-of cruelties and their most atrocious 
 exactions. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 German Attempts to improve Italian Edifices . Enumeration 
 
 of the Distresses occasioned at Venice by the wretched state 
 of the Coinage. 
 
 Only the other year all Venice was in a state 
 of agitation, from the Austrians having taken 
 it into their precious noddles to place the entire 
 city on fresh legs. In other words, the wise¬ 
 acres discovered, that some of the houses stood 
 in need of new foundations. And, sure enough, 
 the streets have assumed an appearance at once 
 straight, formal, and monotonous—stiff as a 
 file of musketeers, and (to give Old Nick his 
 due) certainly somewhat more cleanly than 
 they were accustomed to be. But, why these 
 same external alterations should have been set 
 on foot, while the means of replenishing the 
 inside of the habitations were unfeelingly with- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 139 
 
 held, is a point only to be cleared up by a 
 reference to the uniform policy of Francis’s 
 predecessor; namely, the obliterating of an¬ 
 cient forms, and the thereby paving the way 
 for impressions of a different description. 
 
 For such an undertaking, excuses would not 
 of course be wanted. The leading one was, 
 that the inhabitants were in constant danger of 
 having their houses tumbled about their ears. 
 We often see this propping and shoring work, 
 on a small scale, going on in the purlieus of 
 Covent Garden, and in sundry parts of our 
 metropolis, where it has really been called for ; 
 but, in Venice,where the walls of the houses are 
 extremely stout and substantial, and where no 
 horses or waggons are moving to and fro to shake 
 them, the undertaking alluded to only served 
 to increase, if possible, the general odium in 
 which the Germans were already held by the 
 people of that city. 
 
 Whatever your barbarians cannot mend, they 
 uniformly take especial care to mar. For instance, 
 the public buildings which, in the glorious time 
 of the Republic, were as free of access as the 
 churches, or nearly so, are now closed against 
 the people, and can only be visited through 
 the medium of a fee. Admittance to the Ducal 
 Palace, which is a suite of saloons, the walls 
 
140 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 and ceilings of which still glow with the pro¬ 
 ductions of Titian, Paulo Veronese, Tintoretto, 
 and other inimitable masters, presenting a source 
 of the purest delight to persons of taste and 
 science, has been interdicted by these animals, 
 who have no relish for these noble and sublime 
 specimens of genius. 
 
 Talk of the Goths and the Vandals! their 
 barbarism might perhaps have shewn itself in 
 shapes of greater ferocity ; but I verily believe, 
 that their yoke was not accompanied with more 
 direful consequences, than those which the 
 German sway will ultimately produce through¬ 
 out Italy. The “ paternal ” government of 
 His Imperial Majesty is ostentatiously boasted 
 of on every public occasion. His extreme so¬ 
 licitude, and that of the individuals employed 
 under him, for the general good, is pompously 
 trumpeted forth, whenever an opportunity 
 presents itself; while facts, of the most damn¬ 
 ing description, give the lie to the averment. 
 Nakedness, and poverty, and beggary, are 
 hydras which might, at least, silence these 
 unfeeling men. But no : the obstinacy of the 
 dolts is proverbial, and the Italians in their 
 employ (chiefly strangers to the city, or if born 
 in it, persons of no character or note) acquiesce 
 in all their measures. Indeed, the crafty Ger- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 141 
 
 mans take care to give it out, that every one of 
 the grievances which the people are made to 
 endure, is not suggested by themselves, but is 
 the work of some of their own countrymen. 
 
 I was myself informed by Count Thurn, the 
 Delegato, or sub-governor of Venice, with an 
 air of great regard for the person named, who 
 the projector was of the recent repairs of the 
 foundations above-mentioned. The name I 
 have forgotten ; but I could readily discover, 
 that the object was to induce a belief, that 
 neither the Count himself, nor any of his col¬ 
 leagues, had the least hand in the business. 
 And, similar tricks are but too generally resorted 
 to—the executive sending forth its mandates 
 from a masked battery, which no mortal is per¬ 
 mitted to explore. 
 
 At Venice, the people pronounce the go¬ 
 vernor to be in fault; the canaille cry out shame 
 on the sovereign ; while others, who affect to 
 be more in the secret, impeach, by name, some 
 two or three of the counsellors of state; who 
 probably, after all, enjoy a smaller portion of 
 influence than those who are kept more in the 
 back-ground. Sometimes the civil, at others 
 the military authorities are condemned ; and, to 
 wind up the “ sad eventful history,” the 
 wretched citizens of Venice are heartily sick 
 
] 42 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 of their numerous oppressors, and, in the bitter¬ 
 ness of disappointment, wish both soldiers and 
 sailors, commissaries and counsellors of state, 
 aulic as well as hydraulic, who, one and all, 
 strive only how they can best fleece them out of 
 their last shilling—at the very devil. 
 
 By hook or by crook, however, an enormous 
 revenue is collected by Austria in the Venetian 
 territories. From Padua, a boat-load of money 
 is every Saturday evening conveyed to Venice ; 
 whence it is forwarded, as may naturally be 
 presumed, to Germany ; since none of it ever 
 finds its way back ; and thus are the inhabitants 
 drained to the last extreme of endurance ! 
 
 Certain it is, that the Germans are held, 
 throughout Italy, in greater dislike than the 
 French ever were. The latter, though rapacious 
 after money, spent it freely; whereas, the former 
 are the most niggardly race of mortals on the 
 face of the earth, and even grudge to lay out 
 twopence for a cup of coffee. In fine, the 
 whole body of the Government are indifferent 
 to the happiness and well-being of the people, 
 and are only solicitous to amass fortunes for 
 themselves. 
 
 Some idea of the calamitous system pursued 
 at Venice may-be readily formed from the fol¬ 
 lowing well-attested facts, which relate only to 
 
143 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 a solitary branch of the accursed tree, which 
 seems destined to shroud in eternal night the re¬ 
 nowned Venetian Commonwealth. 
 
 The regulations with regard to money—that 
 primum mobile in the projects of political eno- 
 nomists—bear with a distressing weight on the 
 poor of Venice, and tend to keep alive inces¬ 
 sant jars and wranglings between the shop¬ 
 keepers and the inhabitants; to encourage fraud; 
 to facilitate swindling ; and to keep the city, 
 from one end to the other, in a constant state of 
 perplexity, irritation and confusion. Indeed, 
 all the surrounding districts are alike a prey to 
 the same diabolical contrivance—than which it 
 would scarcely be possible to invent any thing 
 more completely calculated to excite the furies 
 of discord. And, alas ! while the native gulls 
 are whirled and tossed about in the common 
 tempest, the master sharks are seen revelling in 
 every species of wanton luxury ! 
 
 If any superficial observer should be inclined 
 to suppose the mischief venial, because it only 
 alights on those whom he may be pleased to 
 call the inferior classes of society, I do not 
 envy that person either his head or his heart. 1 o 
 come, however, to the point: every city pos¬ 
 sesses its tribe of money-changers ; but, in 
 Venice the race is more numerous than in any 
 
144 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 other ; and the cause is to be found in the nu¬ 
 merous abuses connived at, both there and in 
 the surrounding districts. For a dollar of five 
 franks—and little else but dollars of different 
 mints are in circulation—no shopkeeper will 
 give you small change, unless you will lay out 
 a third of it in articles; since the small cur¬ 
 rency bears an agio of no less than nearly five 
 farthings upon a Napoleon crown, worth four 
 shillings and twopence. Either, therefore, 
 three or four livres (I am speaking, of course, 
 of the Venetian livre, in value fivepence) must 
 be spent at a single shop, out of the five-frank 
 piece, or recourse must be had to the money¬ 
 changer ; who charges you two and a-half per 
 cent, for so doing, more or less, according to 
 the state of the exchange, the quality of the 
 coin, or his own good pleasure. 
 
 As for the vast diversity of coins in circula¬ 
 tion at Venice, each bearing a separate value, 
 one would think they were brought thither 
 from every corner of the globe, in order still 
 further to annoy and perplex the wretched in¬ 
 habitants. The different kinds of German dol¬ 
 lars would alone form a moderate-sized collec¬ 
 tion ; and the sagacity of Midas himself would 
 be puzzled to ascertain the intrinsic value of 
 each. If, indeed, a plentiful supply of these 
 
VENICE. 
 
 145 
 
 coins were seen flowing into the coffers of the 
 Venetians, the mischief would comparatively be 
 trifling ; but the reverse of this happens, unfor¬ 
 tunately, to be the case. Two prices therefore 
 prevail, with reference to the small coin—the 
 nominal, and the real; and the consequence is, 
 that the poor man almost invariably hies with 
 his dollar to the money-changer, since he is not 
 able to expend three livres, nor even two, at a 
 single shop ; and it is not for the interest of the 
 shopkeeper, on account of the said agio, to give 
 change, unless goods to the amount of three 
 livres should be purchased. 
 
 I have frequently seen a Chevalier d*Industrie 
 call for his cup of coffee, which costs about two¬ 
 pence, and in payment thereof throw down a 
 five-frank piece. The waiter, of course, cannot 
 give change, as the loss by so doing would 
 amount to more than the cost of the cup of 
 coffee. Upon this, the furbone , after rapping 
 out some half dozen score of oaths at the state 
 of the money-market, repockets his crown-piece, 
 and walks off without paying for his coffee. 
 Others present a zecchino, worth above five-and- 
 twenty livres; by which, however, the loss is 
 not so great, since a couple of five-frank pieces 
 and a livre or two, will about make up the sum. 
 But the coffee-house keeper does not comply, 
 
 VOL. i. l 
 
146 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 unless he happens to have Spanish, or some 
 crowns of the same value, to give; having 
 constantly an eye to the agio borne by the 
 smaller coin. 
 
 Verily, all this is most distressing work ! 
 Fruit-stalls, and such like minor vents for com¬ 
 modities, present similar scenes of anxiety and 
 irritation; and thus are places, w r hich ought 
 to be scenes of cheerfulness and of tranquillity, 
 as was wont to be the case in the happy days of 
 the Republic, converted into so many dens of 
 harpies, feverish, wrathful, and miserable; and 
 mainly through the pecuniary shackles of which 
 I have been speaking. After the emplette, or 
 bargain, has been struck, it is quite common, 
 because the poor salesman cannot afford to give 
 change, to see the articles flung back into the 
 basket, to the loss of his custom, the damage 
 of his wares, and his own bitter mortification! 
 
 From the above specimen, my reader will be 
 able to form a pretty correct notion of what is 
 called the Austrian government in Italy. If, 
 in the agony of his spirit, the Venetian should 
 venture upon a remonstrance, the only redress 
 he obtains is some coarse German vulgarism ; 
 some common-place rebuke expressed in a tone 
 of bluff asperity; some threat calculated to 
 terrify him. Nor, indeed, is it to be expected 
 
VENICE. 
 
 147 
 
 that those, whom the countless drubbings of the 
 French have only served to render more proud 
 and more brutal, should be troubled with any 
 of the “ compunctuous visitings” of nature. 
 “ Beat out one devil, and you let in ten,” is an 
 old saying, which may justly be applied to 
 them. Invariably obstinate, the Germans main¬ 
 tain that they never were beaten by Napoleon ; 
 every untoward mischance they attribute to 
 treachery. So true is it, that beings endowed 
 w'ith a certain crassitude of skull, cannot com¬ 
 prehend the power of intellect; nor how it 
 comes to pass, that ability and skill can achieve 
 certain deeds, and the operations of mind pre¬ 
 vail over those of gross matter. Treachery 
 may have done a little ; but the reader may rest 
 assured, that it was by talent and by spirit that 
 the victory was achieved. 
 
 The expenses of the improvements which 
 have recently taken place in the streets of 
 Venice the proprietors of the houses have been 
 compelled to defray. And thus has many a 
 landlord forfeited his inheritance, together with 
 the scanty annuity which he had saved out of 
 the general wreck, and to which he looked up 
 for his support in old age. Capital as well as 
 interest, tenement as well as rent, have alike 
 
 l 2 
 
148 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 been raked into the gulph of unbounded avarice ; 
 and thus has many an honest and humble indi- 
 vidual been deprived of his last shilling ! 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Reflections on Architecture generally . Its Origin . The 
 
 Grecian Style . Palmyra . The Egyptian Column . 
 
 Necessity of a Petriflc Standard of Antiquity . St. Paul's 
 
 Cathedral Of Cupolas State of Architecture in Eng¬ 
 land compared with that of Italy . The Palace of the 
 
 Doge. 
 
 Every one who attempts to describe Italy, 
 must necessarily speak of the magnificence of 
 its buildings, and, par consequence , of the beauty 
 of its paintings, its sculpture, and its architec¬ 
 ture. Those travellers, therefore, who slur 
 over their account of the arts, which adorn and 
 beautify at every step that classic ground, ought 
 at once to confess their incompetency for the 
 task, rather than plead as their excuse the 
 “ fine descriptions” which have already been 
 published to the world by former visitors. These 
 
VENICE. 
 
 149 
 
 descriptions may possibly be “ fine but, for 
 my part, I must ingenuously confess, that I have 
 hitherto seen no luminous account, either of 
 the paintings, the sculpture, or the architecture 
 of Italy, from the pen of a veritable homme de 
 lettres. Certain artists, possessing very clear 
 ideas, are often incapable of committing those 
 ideas to paper. And if, in the course of the 
 observations I am about to make, some great 
 names should be subjected to a scrutiny, which 
 may appear to detract from a celebrity of many 
 centuries’ standing, I can only say, that, in the 
 task I have undertaken, my only aim has been, 
 faithfully to impress upon the minds of others, 
 those sentiments which are deeply engraven on 
 my own. 
 
 To begin with architecture. The first habi¬ 
 tations for man must, like the dens of wild 
 beasts, or the nests of birds, have been intended 
 to serve for shelter from the wet, the cold, the 
 wind, and from intense heat; as well as to 
 guard against wolves, tigers, and other savage 
 animals during the night. Let us imagine three 
 or four trees growing close to each other: they 
 might soon be formed into an enclosure, trian¬ 
 gular or square, by means of sheets of basket 
 or wicker-work, made of the boughs of the said 
 trees. A roof or canopy would follow, con- 
 
 L 3 
 
150 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 structed likewise of the produce of the forest, 
 always adhering to the gifts of Providence; 
 and, accordingly, the covering afforded by the 
 oak and other trees would suggest the invention 
 of different shapes, for a lid or dome to the new 
 edifice, to preserve the area from becoming a 
 swamp. The annual plumations of the feathery 
 tribe, and the wool and hair of quadrupeds 
 collected together, would be sufficient to insure 
 a comfortable retreat to man in his savage state. 
 When his views began to expand, he would 
 then turn his thoughts towards the erection of 
 some nobler fabric—a temple, perchance, for 
 the worship of his God, or a dwelling for his 
 chieftain. Ornaments, of a higher nature than 
 any hitherto attempted would then be set 
 about; and, step by step, the art would insen¬ 
 sibly improve. 
 
 In the best era of architecture, security 
 against the perils incidental to the convulsions 
 of nature, whether by tempest or earthquake, 
 was the primary object. Symmetry and orna¬ 
 ment followed next in the train. In the first 
 ages of society, temples were sought after by 
 the people, as places of refuge in moments of 
 peril, whether arising from war, from contagious 
 > diseases, or from the howling of the storm. 
 And, in accordance with this principle, we trace 
 
VENICE. 
 
 151 
 
 in the Egyptian, Assyrian, and other remains of 
 the most remote antiquity, the features I have 
 here traced. Trees were felled, and a portion 
 of the trunks were fixed into the earth. They 
 were thus arranged at equal distances, and upon 
 their summits, coequal in height, and flat, were 
 placed other masses of wood, made square, form¬ 
 ing the architrave. That a pillar or column, 
 tapering as it ascends, was fashioned originally 
 from the shape of the shaft or body of a tree, 
 is a position which, I believe, no one will be 
 inclined to dispute. It is fluted or plain, fo¬ 
 liated, and indented, obliquely or otherwise, 
 according to the taste of the workman but, 
 rotundity was always its leading form : to 
 deviate therefrom was to shock and disgust; 
 and it upholds those parts which project, such 
 as vestibules, corridors, and passages for the 
 people. The capital swells. So with trees : at 
 the place where the main arms branch out from 
 the trunk, the same would be found to be the 
 case if a recision were made immediately over 
 the said juncture—a triforked appearance, suffi¬ 
 cient to justify the architect in transferring the 
 practice from wood to more durable marble, by 
 tumifying the pillar at the head or top. And, 
 in giving to the plinth, or base, a rib, he is justi¬ 
 fied by a reference to the root of the tree, when 
 
 l 4 
 
* 152 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 cleared of its ruggedness, and made smooth like 
 a ring or hoop. 
 
 The Grecians appear to have established their 
 theories respecting the column, upon this prin¬ 
 ciple of nature; which principle, however, might 
 long, very long before, have been in use by 
 other nations. The Egyptians adopted a trunk 
 in its original state, with scarcely any pedestal, 
 the root of the tree being embosomed in the 
 earth: a style of column which is eminently 
 strong and lasting. The ornaments at the capital 
 are light and playful, adhering in this also to 
 nature: for there the leaves commence, and 
 there would very probably remain a few sprays 
 and some foliage at the summit of the trunk ; 
 a circumstance which, I have no doubt, gave 
 rise to the carvings, which have subsequently 
 been diversified, so as to include the plants or 
 flowers growing in the vicinity, varied and 
 modified according to the taste of the builder. 
 
 Again, if we take the appearance of a forest, 
 the natural resort of certain animals in quest of 
 food and repose, we find the lower branches in 
 a perfectly horizontal position. A hint this, by 
 which the early architects appear to have pro¬ 
 fited ; their buildings having the appearance of 
 so many groves : a repetition of the letter T., 
 with at each end an I. And that this method 
 
VENICE. 
 
 153 
 
 of building is best calculated for duration we 
 readily discover, from the vetust remains still 
 standing in the plains of Asia and Africa. 
 
 Cities acquire new names from the political 
 caprice of the conqueror, or from some ridicu¬ 
 lous lingual innovation. That Zenobia may 
 have been a sovereign in the possession of some 
 power, I am not disposed to deny ; but as to that 
 queen having been the founder of Palmyra, I 
 cannot listen to the absurd conjecture : not that 
 I entirely reject the accounts, which award her 
 the merit of augmenting the splendour of that 
 city. At what period Persepolis was built, and by 
 what people, are facts of which we are entirely 
 ignorant. 
 
 The Egyptian column is never, in the smallest 
 degree, contracted at the base, like those of 
 Greece, of Rome, and of modern Europe. The 
 number of ages which have elapsed since the 
 construction of some of the massy edifices to 
 be found in that country, might probably have 
 been guessed at, if, five hundred years ago, some 
 petrific standard, exposed to the atmosphere, 
 had been agreed upon, similar to the one 
 adopted in the case of decayed monuments. 
 From the results in the former instance, the 
 pitch of remoteness might, with some degree of 
 accuracy, have been guessed at, with respect to 
 
154 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 the latter; about which such innumerable 
 theories have been put forth, and all of them 
 equally unworthy of credit. Neither vault, nor 
 arch, nor dome, was admitted into their struc¬ 
 tures. The circle was to be found no where, 
 but in the prop or pillar, and in their hierogly¬ 
 phics. 
 
 The western front of St. Paul’s Cathedral in 
 London, is most unquestionably splendid, and, 
 according to my taste, nearly perfect. The 
 pillars which are seen supporting the dome 
 are, however, inadmissible upon any established 
 principle ; unless we may consider them to be 
 trees rooted midway up the mountain, and that 
 cavities in the rocksw ere the primitive asylums 
 of man. 
 
 Of cupolas—and I have seen every one worth 
 looking at—that of the cathedral of which I 
 have last been speaking is, to my taste, the most 
 beautiful. The crying blunder however is, 
 that the arched windows are made subordinate 
 to the square ones ; that airy lightness is placed 
 beneath rectangular stability : for thus the prin¬ 
 ciple of strength is violated. To range insu¬ 
 lated columns, in situations where trunks of 
 trees can by no possibility be made to grow, is 
 an anomaly in architecture. Therefore the 
 stout plank, or split pillar, with its foliated 
 
VENICE. 
 
 155 
 
 capital should, as it appears to me, be exclu¬ 
 sively appropriated to second or third tiers or 
 stories ; the curves to keep increasing even up 
 to the circle, as the building ascends. And here 
 again we have authority. The luminous orbs 
 of heaven meet the sight when the eye looks 
 up : and therefore, in architecture, ought the 
 arch, the oval, and the sphere to find their sta¬ 
 tions aloft. The temple of Minerva at Athens, 
 and other early magnificent erections, put the 
 spectator in remembrance of a grove ; a horizon¬ 
 tal line is described by the termination of the leaves, 
 while the bodies of the trees are the columns. 
 
 In England, the science of architecture is 
 amazingly confined. The houses of private 
 individuals are as painfully similar to each other, 
 as if an immutable decree had regulated their 
 figure and dimensions. A few lordly habitations 
 are indeed exempt from this peculiarity: but, 
 as for a noble, stately, hospitable-looking stair¬ 
 case, it is so rare a thing, that the owner of the 
 mansion seems to have had no very strong in¬ 
 clination that any of his guests should, undi¬ 
 rected, find their way through, or even into, the 
 premises. In very few houses can the stairs be 
 readily found. But the spirit for society in 
 this country is very limited; and, to say the 
 truth, not without reason; if we are to credit 
 
1.56 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 the reports, as to the demoralized state of the 
 mass of the population. Be this as it may, a 
 secluded, domestic life is, after all, in times like 
 the present, undoubtedly the best. But—do our 
 English males, of the higher and the lower 
 classes, live much in the bosoms of their fami¬ 
 lies ? I confess I should pause, before I ven¬ 
 tured to answer in the affirmative. 
 
 On the contrary, in Italy, a noble staircase, 
 and stately and spacious saloons, were indispen¬ 
 sable features in the palace of every patrician— 
 at least it was so in Venice ; and this for pretty 
 obvious reasons. The entire aristocracy amount¬ 
 ed to about nine hundred or a thousand families ; 
 and, as they all became equal, from the moment 
 their title deeds were enrolled in the Libro 
 d'Oro , and were all liable to be appointed to 
 high situations, it was imperative on each of 
 them, when so appointed, to send round invita¬ 
 tions to the rest. No private grudge was ever 
 suffered to interfere with this politic measure. 
 There was no limitation or exemption—nothing 
 paltry, nor personally offensive, nor invidious. 
 And thus was this noble body, by frequent 
 meetings and collisions of this sort, not only 
 made cheerful by entertainments and diversions, 
 but cemented more closely together by the cap¬ 
 tivating smiles of urbanity, and the pleasures of 
 
VENICE. 
 
 157 
 
 the banquet. The married ladies were always 
 invited, but le nubili never. To accommo¬ 
 date so numerous an assembly, it was therefore 
 necessary that the saloons should be spacious. 
 Even on the upper stories it was usual to fit up 
 capacious apartments. 
 
 The entertainments at Venice consisted 
 neither of a dinner nor supper. There was a cold 
 collation, a sort of dejeune d la fourchette , con- 
 sisting of every delicacy and rarity; as those 
 who were in affluent circumstances spared no 
 expense upon these public occasions, either in 
 the way of parade or of luxury. 
 
 The magnificent palace of the Doge, in the 
 Piazza di San Marco, is raised upon pillars ; but 
 the design having been considered too bold, 
 from the number of vaults or arches, the ground 
 about was raised, so as to encroach somewhat 
 on the building, thereby sinking it a trifle, and 
 the centre ones were filled up. At first, how¬ 
 ever, this wonderful edifice stood upon columns, 
 having the appearance of a forest of trees. 
 
( 158 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Some of the magnificent Edifices at Venice described . The 
 
 Basilica , or Church of San Marco . The Four Brazen 
 
 Steeds of Lysippus . A few Words on the Hyde Parle 
 
 Achilles . Saint Mark's Square . The Campanile . 
 
 The Procuratia . The Public Library . The Ducal 
 
 Palace . The Italians paHicularly fond of Pictures . 
 
 A few Words of Advice to the Quakers and other Contemners 
 
 of the Fine Arts . A Comparison between the Society of 
 
 Friends and the Sons of Israel. 
 
 I shall now offer a few words on some of 
 the most magnificent edifices to be seen in this 
 most singular and beautiful city. 
 
 The Basilica, or church of San Marco, was 
 begun in the year 977> and finished, in the 
 superb style in which we now behold it, in 1071 . 
 It has ten outer gates of Corinthian brass, be¬ 
 sides five more within, of the same material, 
 all richly ornamented ; and between them there 
 is a gallery, or piazza, for the people to prome¬ 
 nade in. Roofs, walls, pavement—the whole of 
 the interior of this stupendous temple, is inlaid 
 with mosaics, in gold and colours, or adorned with 
 
VENICE. 
 
 159 
 
 the finest marbles. On entering, and lifting 
 our eyes towards the dome, we at once be¬ 
 hold so immense a number of paintings, of the 
 description here mentioned, in the different 
 ceilings, curves, arches, and niches, that it 
 would be impossible to give a sketch of them ; 
 each however is accompanied with an explana¬ 
 tory description. 
 
 The first artists have all been employed in 
 embellishing its walls. Tintoretto’s cartoons 
 have principally served to direct the artificers 
 of these splendid mosaics ; but many of them 
 are from designs of a much earlier date. Amidst 
 a multitude of other pillars, all carved out of 
 precious materials, and many of them brought 
 from Constantinople when the Venetians con¬ 
 quered that city, are eight columns of a serpen¬ 
 tine shape, carried originally from Jerusalem, 
 and which are said to have adorned the famous 
 temple of Solomon. Both within and without, 
 are to be seen beautiful pillars, of every kind of 
 rare marble, magnificently piled and arranged, 
 though rather according to the Saracenic taste. 
 
 Upon the corridor, surmounting the archi¬ 
 trave in front, are placed the famous four 
 steeds, in Corinthian brass, of unparalleled 
 merit. The action of the gentle trot has been 
 caught by the artist, and every muscle of these 
 
160 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 noble creatures has been displayed with such 
 prodigious felicity, that if their golden sur¬ 
 faces could be converted into the silky gloss of 
 nature, the animals might be supposed to move. 
 They are generally believed to be the work¬ 
 manship of the celebrated Lysippus, the Greek 
 sculptor, and they certainly leave all modern 
 attempts at equestrian statues at an immeasur¬ 
 able distance. 
 
 As I have spoken of one much talked of pub¬ 
 lic ornament, perhaps I shall be excused if I 
 briefly advert to another. I mean the magnificent 
 bronze figure recently erected in Hyde-Park, 
 and given out to be that of Achilles. But, for what 
 reason that personage, who is no where repre¬ 
 sented by Homer as being fond of retiring, 
 should be considered to be pourtrayed in the 
 statue in question, I think it would be difficult 
 to imagine. On Monte Cavallo, at Rome, where 
 the original is still standing, this noble figure is 
 represented as managing a fiery steed ; thereby 
 intending to intimate the power of intelligence 
 in man, over brute matter, and even over his 
 own appetites—in short, an emblem denoting 
 the superiority of mind over body. 
 
 Certain persons have, I know, an inexpressible 
 aversion to the figure, and are for having it 
 taken away altogether. Thank God, I am not 
 
VENICE. 
 
 161 
 
 formed in so fastidious a mould. I would, how¬ 
 ever, recommend to our arbiters of taste the 
 immediate removal of the shield, and the intro¬ 
 duction of the animal; as the unaccountable 
 anomaly which now presents itself would then be 
 done away with. The figure actually appears 
 to be recoiling, and drawing itself away from 
 some portentous emanation from above ; where¬ 
 as, its attitude and the expression of its counte¬ 
 nance accord admirably with the rearing up of 
 the animal. Moreover, both hands are suited 
 to the action of holding a bridle. 
 
 In short, it cannot be Achilles; for neither 
 hand is seen wielding a weapon. If he be sup¬ 
 posed to be fighting with men, a figure of such 
 colossal magnitude would not be looking up¬ 
 wards. If lie be warring with the gods, then 
 adieu, Master Hyde-park Achilles ! You cannot 
 be Homer’s hero ; for he was “ the beloved of 
 Jove ”— 
 
 -“ And, to the Gods resign’d, 
 
 To reason gave the empire of his mind." 
 
 The Piazza di San Marco is a vast area, com¬ 
 prizing the most splendid, or at least the richest, 
 piles of architecture in the universe. It is 
 about as large as Lincoln’s-Inn-Fields; but, 
 
 VOL. i. m 
 
16*2 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 heavens, how different! It has, in part, been 
 faintly, very faintly, imitated in the Palais 
 Royal at Paris. Near to the church, the Cam¬ 
 panile, or steeple, three hundred and thirty feet 
 in height, surmounted by an angel in bronze, 
 rears its stupendous head, and stands alone. 
 At the top of this tower was the immortal 
 Galileo, of whom I shall speak more at large 
 hereafter, wont to make his observations on the 
 heavenly bodies. Within a few feet from the 
 Campanile, say thirty or forty, the noble pile 
 of buildings called the Procuratia, together 
 with the public Library, display their glories 
 at right angles. The latter is a building of 
 unmatchable elegance and costliness, adorned 
 with statues, executed by the mighty Sansovino, 
 which, in no other edifice in the world, have I 
 seen equalled in point of merit, and much less 
 so in quantity. Arabesque foliage, heads of 
 lions, men, women, children—entire statues of 
 heroes, gods, and females ; some with drapery, 
 others inpuris naturalibus —models of the choic¬ 
 est kind of decoration, disposed with judgment, 
 and bestowed with the magnanimous liberality 
 worthy of a great, and liberal, and wealthy 
 people. Such are the objects, all in marble, and 
 finished with the hand of a master, which grace 
 the Library at Venice. 
 
VENICE. 
 
 163 
 
 Some critics, springing from the tribe of eco¬ 
 nomists, have been very severe with the square 
 of St. Mark, and have ventured to pronounce 
 the style of the buildings too exuberant j but, 
 as a poor man once said to a painter, who was 
 complaining that his works were undervalued— 
 “ it would be a rare performance indeed, if no 
 fault were found with it ”—the same may be 
 said of this noble Piazza. 
 
 Fronting the Library, at the distance of about 
 a hundred and fifty feet, one side of the Ducal 
 Palace presents itself, the tirade of which 
 overlooks the sea. It is an immense building, 
 originally supported by a crowd of pillars, re¬ 
 sembling a forest of huge trees, entirely com¬ 
 posed of marble. But the ultramontane be¬ 
 holder, accustomed to the sight of bricks in his 
 own country, cannot readily bring himself to 
 credit the simple fact, that the chequered walls 
 of this incomparable building are not of brick, 
 but are actually squares of red and white mar¬ 
 ble: the former of which was brought from 
 Verona, and has a good deal the colour of burnt 
 clay. 
 
 The court of this palace is extremely fine, 
 especially two of its sides, which are highly deco¬ 
 rated with sculptured marble from top to bottom; 
 aided by the famous Giant’s stairs, which arc 
 
 m 2 
 
164 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 formed of, and inlaid with, fine stones ; together 
 with a multitude of statues, chiselled by the 
 most eminent workmen, many of them being 
 antiques. 
 
 By the bye, it appears to me not a little extra¬ 
 ordinary, that, in the present rage for church¬ 
 building in England, scarcely any decorations 
 of the richer kind are to be discovered ; and, 
 of the ornate style, none ; unless a few 
 flourishes of leaves, and flowers, and composi¬ 
 tions drawn from inanimate nature, may be 
 classed under that head. A few meagre basso 
 relievos, it is true, have been added, as well as a 
 sprinkling of statues ; but, generally speaking, 
 these shabby decorations are beneath medio¬ 
 crity, and more especially the detached statues. 
 
 The above-mentioned splendid edifice has no 
 fewer than five and thirty arches; namely, 
 seventeen on the side looking towards the Li¬ 
 brary, and eighteen on the side facing the sea, 
 each of them being ten feet wide. The dia¬ 
 meter of the shafts which support this vast pile 
 may be guessed at, from the extent of both 
 sides, which is four hundred and five feet. Both 
 the outer and inner porticos serve for the re¬ 
 creation, as well as shelter of the people. 
 
 A variety of staircases open into the interior, 
 all of them spacious, and some of them orna- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 165 
 
 merited with elaborate paintings of extraordinary 
 merit, in the manner of galleries—a style of 
 decoration common in public, as well as private 
 edifices. Indeed, the Italians generally are 
 uncommonly fond of pictures ; and for that 
 reason do I consider them as surpassing the 
 rest of the world, in their admiration of the 
 beauties of nature. 
 
 And, indeed, are we not all, more or less, 
 painters ? What is the organ of sight but a 
 window for pictures ? And of consequence, a 
 human being is an iconoclist (if I may be 
 permitted to use the expression) from his very 
 cradle; unless he happen to be born blind. 
 Vision, or the faculty of sight, is assuredly the 
 foremost of the senses: and, that the first- 
 rate painters have the best sight, no one will 
 pretend to deny. Let the principle be even 
 applied intellectually, and probably it will bear 
 the most scrupulous examination. “ Where there 
 is no vision, the people perish,” is the language 
 of Scripture : and sublime language it is, 
 implying, that the loss of sight, materially 
 or spiritually, is tantamount to jeopardy and 
 ruin. 
 
 What have the Quakers, and other contemners 
 of the elegant arts, to say to my position ? Although 
 
 m 3 
 
166 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 I despise no trade, nor find fault with nature for 
 furnishing us with the means of making bread, 
 yet would not I be ranked with those dullards, 
 who cry down painting, and underrate the orna¬ 
 mental dispensations of Heaven. When God, in 
 his wisdom, shall contract his hand, and send 
 forth fruit without blossom, or bestow the 
 blessing of eye-sight for the low purposes of 
 appetite—when the soul shall become warped 
 and neutralized—then, but not till then, will 
 certain notions appear less ridiculous, and less 
 objectionable, than they now do. 
 
 The Quakers, in some respects, resemble the 
 Jews 5 in other respects, they differ widely from 
 that people. The Quakers are proudly prim and 
 particular about their garments: the Jews are 
 much given to filth and finery. The Quakers 
 wear habits of the choicest fabric, and the most 
 delicate texture : the Jews, on the contrary, 
 .adopt feathers and all sorts of trinkets and taw¬ 
 dry. The sons of Israel are airy and volatile ; 
 while the disciples of George Fox affect a stiff, 
 and blunt, and demure, and rigid deportment. 
 Both Quaker and Jew, however, are studious of 
 accumulating vast wealth. Individually, the 
 Hebrew, in this respect, outstrips the yea-and- 
 nay Friend, and all other denominations. A 
 
VENICE. 
 
 167 
 
 small number of them mystify and bewilder the 
 rest of the world. But, as a tribe, advancing 
 in a phalanx, the Quakers threaten the whole 
 fabric of society with subjugation—through 
 the medium of gold. They borrow of no man: 
 neither do they lend readily. On this head, 
 however, I am not positively instructed. At 
 any rate, it is well understood, that they chiefly 
 expend their money amongst those of their 
 own religious profession ; though they will sell 
 freely to strangers. To players, musicians, and 
 profane dancers, they never give a farthing 
 in any shape; though they will cordially 
 receive the coin of these same players, and 
 musicians, and profane dancers, at their shops. 
 Peradventure they may allege, that though they 
 take the cash, they give wares in return. True : 
 but the profits ! my honest Aminadab —what be¬ 
 comes of the profits ? It is, therefore, obvious, 
 that, at this rate, as far as actual calculation 
 warrants us in coming to a conclusion, the 
 Quakers, in the course of time, must outstrip 
 all the rest of mankind in point of riches ; and, 
 as long as money bags shall bear the sway, few 
 of us can doubt what sort of Jerusalem those 
 people are looking forward to! Upon the 
 whole, therefore, the Jews—who, occasionally, 
 are friends to the fine arts—are, perhaps, as a 
 
 m 4 
 
168 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 body, less cunning and politic than the 
 Quakers. 
 
 Now, so far from painting having a tendency 
 to accelerate the subversion of kingdoms, I be¬ 
 lieve the direct contrary to be the fact. Rome 
 at this moment beholds, in that beautiful art, 
 a stay, a prop—a child imbued with true filial 
 piety, shedding the balm of comfort over the 
 mind, and administering to the wants of that 
 parent of monarchies, in this her decrepitude. 
 Foreigners who repair to Italy, hie constantly 
 to Rome, and protract their stay in that city, 
 that they may become acquainted with the gra¬ 
 phic jewels it contains ; thereby contributing 
 to the support of thousands. 
 
 With similar views, and with like advantages 
 to the natives, are many other parts of the world 
 visited by travellers. What I have here urged 
 with regard to painting, applies also to sculp¬ 
 ture and architecture; and shews that they may 
 be considered profitable, even in the eyes of the 
 political economist. But, their higher and more 
 noble purpose is, the improvement of the mind, 
 and the sublimation of the intellect. For 
 nothing can be more true, than the observation 
 of an admired writer, that “ a cultivated taste 
 increases sensibility to all the tender and humane 
 passions, by giving them frequent exercise; 
 
VENICE. I69 
 
 while it tends to weaken the more violent and 
 fierce emotions”— 
 
 -“ Ingenuas didicisse fdelitur artes 
 
 Emollit mores, nec sinit esse feros. 
 
 “ These polish’d arts have humaniz’d mankind, 
 
 Soften’d the rude, and calm’d the boist’rous mind.” 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 A general Description of the City of Venice under the Republic 
 . And of the Manners of its Inhabitants . The Vene¬ 
 tian School (f Painting . Liberality of the Government 
 
 towards her Great Men . Tintoretto . A few Words 
 
 respecting Canova . A Hint, en passant, to young Artists 
 
 . Character of the Venetians and of the English con¬ 
 trasted . Milton . Shakespeare . Dante . Ariosto 
 
 . The Novellieri . Blessings of Peace. 
 
 To enumerate the paintings which are to be 
 seen at Venice, nearly all of them super-excel¬ 
 lent, and to point out their respective beauties, 
 would be a task far beyond the design which I 
 at first proposed to myself; namely, that of 
 merely giving a rapid sketch of what I had 
 beheld, interspersed with such observations and 
 
170 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 reflections as were naturally suggested to my 
 mind, by the topics under examination. 
 
 For the present, I shall advert to the city of 
 Venice itself; which may be said to rest neither 
 on earth, nor water, nor sky, and which seems 
 the work of divine, rather than of human 
 agency. It is impregnable, though unprotected 
 by fortresses. As Martinelli observes, its boun¬ 
 daries and commencement cannot be traced ; 
 neither can its termination be ascertained. 
 Most plentifully supplied, on every side, with 
 vriiatever is necessary for the use of man, the 
 liberal and mechanical arts were cherished; 
 and commerce was seen flourishing. Men of 
 genius and of talent, in every art and science, 
 were brought forward and rewarded, without pa¬ 
 rade or ostentation. Grandeur, devoid of glarish 
 frivolity, was every where visible. The costume 
 of the nobles was sober, yet rich, and calculated 
 to attract respect from their inferiors. The dress 
 of all classes of the people was consistent with 
 the simplicity and decency of good sense and 
 of genuine religion. Liberty and tranquillity 
 were every where enjoyed, while prepotency 
 found an instant corrective in wise law's, speedily 
 administered by impartial and upright men, and 
 enforced in behalf of the poor as well as of the 
 rich. Illustrious, too, by the felicity of her un- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 171 
 
 tier takings, and the respect in which the repub¬ 
 lic of Venice was held by every other state, 
 her victories rendered her the admiration of the 
 rest of the world, and respected for her maritime 
 power, as well as her terrestrial dominion—alike 
 feared by land, and formidable on the ocean. 
 
 Her government combined profound policy 
 with genuine Christianity, and remained uncon¬ 
 taminated, amidst a profuse waste of treasure 
 and of blood, in wars carried on for the defence 
 of religion. The multiplicity of churches, hos¬ 
 pitals, chapels, and other holy places, which 
 were built and endowed, not only decently, 
 but sumptuously, together with the manifold 
 acts of charity offered up to the Deity, and to 
 the afflicted amongst mankind, justify the claim 
 or Venice to the title of the sanctuary of Re¬ 
 ligion, and the abode of Christian piety and 
 genuine benevolence. 
 
 This city, as I have already observed, may 
 be said to rest neither on earth, nor water, nor 
 sky. Not on sky ; because, although elevated 
 above the ground her splendid edifices tower 
 aloft, they are nevertheless the abode of mortals. 
 Not on earth ; since, out of this, the Almighty 
 has ordained that there should grow fruits and 
 herbs, and not lofty and stupendous palaces, 
 temples, and noble mansions. And, for the 
 
172 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 same reason, perceiving those majestic eleva¬ 
 tions in masonry soaring to the clouds, it 
 cannot be water. Therefore I know not whether 
 this place should be called immoveable water, or 
 unsteady land; terrestrial sky, or aerial earth. 
 
 This renowned city may be said to have no 
 foundation ; the substratum being neither rock, 
 nor sand, nor solid earth ; but mere mud, which 
 yields to the pressure of the foot, yet never¬ 
 theless sustains this wondrous pile of buildings ; 
 reminding one of the language of the royal 
 Psalmist, when speaking of the Supreme Archi¬ 
 tect of the Universe, “ qui jirmavit terr am super 
 aquas” with regard to his power in forming the 
 universe. For truly the immortal and eternal 
 Spirit could alone have stirred up mortality to 
 raise a work of this kind, to become, as it were, 
 a city of refuge for the righteous, and a sanc¬ 
 tuary for the followers of the true faith, amidst 
 clouds of barbarism, and a wilderness of the 
 most furious persecutions ! 
 
 Behold a city, strong without fortifications ! 
 For no walls encircle her; nor are there towers 
 or battlements for purposes of war. Neither 
 are there gates, or highways, or other fixed 
 passages, for egress and regress. But, both by 
 day and by night, around and throughout, this fa¬ 
 mous city is open and unguarded. Nevertheless, 
 
VENICE. 
 
 173 
 
 under Heaven, it possessed not only the means 
 of defence for her own inhabitants, but for the 
 protection of those of the other cities, who re¬ 
 posed under the safeguard of her invincible Lion. 
 
 Her beginning is unknown ; since there exists 
 no memorial of the arrival of her first citizens. 
 And although historians date her commence¬ 
 ment from the 25th of March, a.d. 421 ; which 
 happened to be the time of laying the founda¬ 
 tion of Saint James of Rialto, her first church 
 (supposing it to be the first), and which, for 
 those days, was of extraordinary magnificence ;— 
 it is impossible that that should have been the 
 period; inasmuch as a church is ever pre¬ 
 ceded by other habitations, especially in the 
 midst of swamps and water. In fact, it is known 
 that, previous to the year 400, people resided 
 there; for then it was that the Gepids and 
 Goths ravaged all Italy, and forced numerous 
 opulent and noble families to repair for safety 
 to the Venetian Lagunes, among the people 
 there settled. In consequence of this emigration, 
 from a state of actual poverty and destitution, 
 the city thenceforward grew and spread with 
 the strides of a giant. 
 
 Besides the sublime square of St. Mark, there 
 are at Venice hundreds of noble palaces and 
 stately buildings. Indeed, according to Sanso- 
 
174 VENICE. 
 
 vino, in no city of Europe are there so many 
 sumptuous habitations, of equal grandeur in 
 point of architecture, so completely adapted 
 for comfort and convenience. And to this I 
 may add, without exaggeration, that within a 
 circuit of six miles, the boundaries of this me¬ 
 tropolis, the dwellings, as well as the popula¬ 
 tion, are more numerous than in any other city 
 of twice its magnitude. 
 
 The vast number of wells which furnish the 
 inhabitants, though surrounded by the sea, 
 with an excellent supply of fresh water, de¬ 
 serves notice; as well as the convenience of 
 proceeding to and fro by boat, and of thereby 
 conveying, by the labour of one man, as many 
 goods as would require ten waggons to forward 
 by land. Canals are seen winding in every 
 direction, dividing the city into seventy-two 
 islands, though never hindering those who 
 prefer walking from going by land, by means of 
 her numerous bridges. 
 
 In short, when we behold a city of such 
 magnitude, built upon piles in the midst of the 
 sea, so well supplied with every thing that the 
 heart of man can desire, from the necessary up 
 to the luxury of life, we are forced to acknow¬ 
 ledge, that it is scarcely possible that the in¬ 
 genuity of man should be carried farther. 
 
VENICE. 
 
 175 
 
 As a nation, the Venetians are perhaps the 
 most polite in the world; and that from circum¬ 
 stances peculiar to their city : for as there are 
 no carriages nor horses, all ranks and classes of 
 society are compelled to go a good deal on foot, 
 and consequently come much in contact with 
 each other ; so that the morgue aristocratique , 
 which one sees so much of at Paris or London, 
 never annoys the pedestrian. Even the gondolas, 
 or marine palanquins, were so plain, that the 
 people neither felt themselves offended or hu¬ 
 miliated at the sight of them; for the nobles, 
 in the time of the Republic, were restrained by 
 law from extravagance in their equipages. 
 
 Venice might formerly be called the city of 
 peace. Every thing in it was quiet and tranquil. 
 The suavity of the Venetian manners resembled 
 the softness of their climate. With singular 
 propriety, the Doge was saluted by the title of 
 “ the most serene prince.” The arts of peace 
 flourished amongst them with amazing splen¬ 
 dour. The mine was of a richness scarcely 
 conceivable. In the single branch of painting, 
 a vein was discovered, which, in the course of 
 time, found its way into every palace and great 
 mansion throughout Europe. 
 
 The noble-minded Venetians were sensible 
 that a true painter, instructed by nature to view 
 
176 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 things correctly, and to represent them with 
 fidelity, must, by her immutable laws, be in¬ 
 capable of speaking falsehoods, or of resorting 
 to servile flattery. Rather, therefore, than lose 
 the advantages to be derived from the posses¬ 
 sion of their vivid and animated productions, 
 they knew how to smile benignly over any of 
 those rash and impolitic slips, which, in other 
 countries, were wont to draw down upon the 
 artist the indignation and vengeance of those in 
 authority. A striking instance this, of the su¬ 
 perior wisdom of the Venetian legislature ! For 
 who amongst us would expect, that the brilliant 
 Tintoretto, who pervaded the heavens of truth 
 more like a god than a mortal, should be an 
 obsequious sycophant, a fawning spaniel, a toad, 
 tongue-bound, venomous and vile ? I answer— 
 no one possessing the least portion of discern¬ 
 ment. 
 
 It is not at all surprising, that so few good 
 paintings are to be met with in countries, the 
 potentates of which are enveloped in clouds of 
 ignorance, and surrounded by swarms of fulsome 
 adulators. It should ever be borne in mind by 
 them, that “ flattery is evanescent, but works 
 remain:”—an aphorism, this, which at Venice 
 I once heard levelled at Canova ; whose perfor¬ 
 mances, by the bye, bear few indications of real 
 
VENICE. 
 
 177 
 
 genius ; especially such of them as are of the 
 robust and vigorous kind. Greatly influenced 
 and impressed by the innumerable elegant frao-. 
 
 O o 
 
 ments of antique art, which were constantly 
 before his eyes, like many others (indeed, so 
 many, that excepting Michael Angelo, and 
 one or two besides, there is not an exception), 
 he has pillaged from them in such an un¬ 
 merciful spirit of plagiarism, such parts of his 
 statues as are not copies are feeble, and gla¬ 
 ringly inferior to the forms which he has bor. 
 rowed from antiques, and regulated by their 
 proportions. Of the truth of my assertion, 
 any one will be convinced, by looking at his 
 Venus and Adonis. The greatest care, there¬ 
 fore, should be taken, lest the fine models at 
 Rome should impair, rather than brace and 
 strengthen and invigorate the capacity of the 
 }oung artist. The antique absolutely bewilders 
 and stupifies many a tyro; who, but for the 
 imposing rhapsodies of a set of blustering bul¬ 
 lies in matters of taste, would have been a 
 credit to himself and an honour to his country. 
 Too much allured by the cold marble, they are 
 apt to forsake the carnation of real life, and to 
 fancy nothing strictly correct, that is not hard 
 and marmorean. With all their occasional bad 
 drawing, the Venetians are infinitely superior 
 
 VOL. I, n 
 
178 VENICE. 
 
 to the vile herd of artists of whom I have been 
 speaking. 
 
 To revert to what I have said in favour of 
 the Venetians generally. Many a traveller will, 
 I know, contradict me. Let, however, such 
 persons bear in mind, that I have rather been 
 speaking of what they once were, than of what 
 they are now lowered down to, by a long course 
 of misrule. Although I do not profess to be¬ 
 long to the race of ferrets, nor to descend too 
 far into the cespools of infamy, I trust I shall 
 never be backward in distinguishing vice from 
 virtue. That some of the Venetians are noto¬ 
 rious cheats, few will deny, for, in all countries, 
 there are rogues without number. In England, 
 strangers are not more especially singled out for 
 sacrifice than the natives ; whereas, the lower 
 classes of Italians, and the Venetians in par¬ 
 ticular, exult whenever a trick succeeds against 
 an Englishman, or indeed any foresti&e. 
 
 But, in what estimation, I ask, are foreigners 
 held by the shopkeepers of England ? Is it not 
 a constant practice with them to depreciate and 
 run down every thing of foreign manufacture; 
 even when, in their hearts, they know the sneer 
 to be unmerited ? Now, if this be not fraud of 
 the foulest stamp, then am I ignorant what 
 fraud means. 
 
VENICE. 
 
 179 
 
 Not that I would insinuate any thing dero¬ 
 gatory to the renown of my countrymen—a 
 renown, however, which I fear they have de¬ 
 rived more from their golden, than their mental 
 talents. Invention, genius, sublime flights— 
 these are gems which are rarely to be found in 
 English soil. Warped and circumscribed as 
 her children are in matters appertaining to bril¬ 
 liant imagination, their several manufactures are 
 ably wrought, neatly polished, and skilfully 
 finished. On the other hand, the Venetians, 
 though capable of erecting the most gorgeous 
 edifices, will leave the very window-frames in so 
 incomplete a state, that they will not ward oft’ 
 the weather. The truth is, that scarcely any 
 articles but those of right down domestic utility 
 are called for in England, whose people are a 
 kind of Quakers or Methodists, with regard to 
 the blandishments of existence ; while the more 
 southern inhabitants of Europe, like the ritual 
 they profess, delight in splendour and pageantry. 
 
 Perhaps I shall be excused for observing in 
 this place, by way of illustration, that the British 
 legitimate character, in the sphere of intel¬ 
 ligence, bears along with it few portions of 
 excursive imagery. It is neither copious in the 
 lineaments of invention and originality, nor 
 prolific in the charms of novelty. Milton, who 
 
 N 2 
 
180 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 was educated in Italy, and Shakespeare, with 
 all his merit, borrowed freely from the Italians, 
 both with regard to the subject, the thought, 
 and the expression ; as well as most copiously 
 from the Holy Scriptures. If Dante, Ariosto, 
 and the Novellieri were carefully examined, to¬ 
 gether with the Bible, much of what those two 
 English poets have written would not be found 
 so very original, as many have hitherto ima¬ 
 gined them to be. Not that I would insinuate 
 that Shakespeare, for energy of language, for 
 depth of thought, and for aptness of similitude, 
 is not, par excellence, the greatest of poets : but, 
 as a reformer of morals and a queller of the tu¬ 
 multuous passions, little, I think, can be said 
 in his praise. Revenge and murder, and war and 
 havock, are demons by far too familiar with him. 
 
 In didactic poetry, and in the science of 
 moral philosophy, the English appear to me to 
 have left the rest of the world far behind. For 
 close metaphysical reasoning; for geometry; 
 for calculations in matters of finance ; and for a 
 knowledge of the arid sciences, of every de¬ 
 scription, connected with political economy, 
 they bear away the palm. The very shopmen 
 in England display instances of cool sagacity, 
 which, though bottomed on sheer craft, are 
 nevertheless admirable, and fully equal to the 
 
 / 
 
VENICE. 
 
 181 
 
 astuzia of a member of the French corps diplo¬ 
 matique. 
 
 But, what do I infer from all this ? It is the 
 deed itself, and not the individual who performs 
 it, that we ought to look at; if we wish to arrive 
 at an impartial judgment, and to imitate the 
 final justice of heaven. Habits are not con¬ 
 clusive ; though they certainly contribute much 
 towards the formation of character. For instance, 
 all merchants are not uniformly narrow-minded. 
 Much of the staid sort of temper above spoken 
 of is the offspring of certain pursuits. Com¬ 
 mercial and other men, travelling from any 
 country to distant lands, bring back with them 
 the secrets practised in business abroad, and 
 those finesses and inventions cease, in the course 
 of time, to be exotics; until, at length, aug¬ 
 mented by constant accessions, excited by fresh 
 luxuries, and stimulated by the furies of am¬ 
 bition, the more gentle elements of taste and 
 elegant mental images take their departure; 
 unable to domiciliate with the coarse passions 
 which a spirit for traffic engenders, and which 
 spirit is invariably inimical to the effusions of 
 true genius—that description of genius, I mean, 
 which imparts the light of truth, as the showers 
 of heaven mature the fruits of the earth. 
 
 n 8 
 
182 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 As tempests are accompanied by rains, which 
 may be beneficial to the fields, so, amidst the 
 storms of the soul, are occasional flashes of the 
 divine spirit elicited. But, such flashes are 
 neither safe nor desirable; since, the collision 
 of particular bodies may produce fatal con¬ 
 sequences, if the emitted sparks should ac¬ 
 cidentally be carried amidst inflammable sub¬ 
 stances. 
 
 From all which, it is to be inferred, that the 
 happiest condition is the condition of peace— 
 
 “ O beauteous Peace ! 
 
 Sweet union of a state ! what else but thou 
 Gives safety, strength, and glory to a people ?” 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 A rapid Sketch of the Causes which led to the Overthrow of the 
 
 Venetian Republic . Under thefatal Infuence of Francesco 
 
 Pesaro, the Republic, in evil hour, declare for an Unarmed 
 Neutrality. 
 
 At the commencement of the French revolu¬ 
 tion, the Marquess Antonio Govion Broglio 
 Solari, a Venetian nobleman, having made the 
 
VENICE. 
 
 183 
 
 tour of Switzerland, with the Danish ambas¬ 
 sador, Baron d’Eirben, returned by the way of 
 Turin, for the purpose of claiming a consider¬ 
 able landed estate, belonging to the family of 
 Solari ; who, at the time of the plague in 
 Piedmont, had dispersed themselves in various 
 parts of Italy and France. The above branch 
 settled at Venice, a second at Loretto, and a 
 third, which took the name of Broglio, in 
 France : and all of them are still living. 
 
 Before the above-mentioned claim could be 
 established, it was necessary that the Marquess 
 should be presented to the King ; without 
 which, a sight of the public documents could 
 not be obtained. The Marquess de Prie, and 
 the Count Perrone were his securities. The 
 King, regarding the family of Solari as aliens, 
 and that of the Bevillacquas, who were in pos¬ 
 session of the property, as his subjects, thought 
 proper, for reasons of policy, to refuse the 
 desired permission. But, to soften the disap¬ 
 pointment, his Majesty offered to decorate the 
 Marquess Solari with the order of the Cross of 
 San Maurizio Lazzaro ; which the Marquess, in 
 his turn, thought fit to refuse, unless his Ma¬ 
 jesty would accompany it with a commende; as 
 he was by no means ambitious, he said, of an 
 empty title. 
 
 N 4 
 
184 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Such are the distressing situations in which 
 individuals are liable to be placed, who live under 
 absolute and despotic princes, capriciously decid¬ 
 ing on the property and lives of their subjects, 
 in despite of law, and justice, and equity ! 
 
 On leaving the court, the Marquess Solari 
 dined in company with the two noblemen above- 
 mentioned, who then filled the situations of 
 Minister of State and Prime Minister, at the 
 court of Turin. In the course of conversation, 
 the Marquess de Prie said, “ My dear Solari, you 
 are about to set off for Venice. If you are no 
 longer a Piedmontese, you are, at any rate, an 
 Italian. Bear in mind what I am about to say 
 to you. Inform the government, of which you 
 are a member, that if we do not agree to enter 
 into an Italian League, we shall all be buried 
 in the common ruin of our country, from the 
 meditated invasion of these modern Goths and 
 Vandals; for they are actually an army of 
 Attilas. The Venetian Republic is the best 
 populated, the richest, and the most beloved 
 government in all Italy. Sixty thousand men 
 would be more easily raised by it, than forty 
 thousand would be in Piedmont.” 
 
 “ Yes,” continued the Marquess Perrone, 
 “ on the wisdom of the Venetian Senate, and 
 on its future measures, I assert, and am ready 
 
VENICE. 
 
 185 
 
 to maintain, that all Italy will be indebted either 
 for its salvation or overthrow. Remember, my 
 dear Solari, I am an old practitioner in the 
 policy of states!” 
 
 After having completed a mission, with which 
 he had been charged from his own government 
 to that of Milan, Solari returned to Venice, 
 and faithfully reported what had passed be¬ 
 tween him and the ministers of the court of 
 Turin. Indeed, dispatches to the same effect 
 had preceded him, in which a reference was 
 made to the verbal communication. He was 
 accordingly called upon officially; and being 
 sincerely attached to his country, he expressed 
 his honest sentiments, with all that ardour and 
 animation which became a free-born subject. 
 Whereupon, Antonio Zen, one of the Consiglio 
 di Died said, smilingly, “ My dear Solari, I 
 admire and appreciate the warmth of your 
 patriotism ; but you must excuse me for saying, 
 that you are viewing objects from the wrong 
 end of the microscope.” 
 
 Zaccaria Valleroso, one of the Inquisitori di 
 Stato, being one evening in company, at Venice, 
 with a lady who had been an attachee to the 
 court of France, at the breaking out of the 
 revolution, and had escaped from its horrors, 
 and of whom Madame Campan has spoken in 
 
18(3 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 her Memoirs, though she has not named her— 
 the lady happened to say, that she thought of 
 retiring to the north of Europe. “ Why, Ma¬ 
 dame,” said Valleroso, “ surely you are not 
 afraid of the French army coming to Venice ?” 
 
 “ I beg your pardon, sir,” replied the lady ; 
 “ I think I am sufficiently well acquainted with 
 the French to venture to assert, that if the 
 Venetians do not prevent them from passing 
 the Alps, the territory of the Republic will be 
 no more respected than any other part of Italy; 
 the whole of which will be overrun, when once 
 they have entered Savoy.” 
 
 “ Ah ! Madame,” said Valleroso, “ these are 
 sentiments unbecoming the mouth of a young 
 female. The wisdom of the policy which we 
 have uniformly adopted, will ever preserve us 
 from the suspicion of partiality, by either of the 
 contending parties.” 
 
 “ Have you a couple of hundred thousand 
 men,” rejoined the lady, “ ready to back your 
 neutrality? If you have not, I cannot help 
 fearing—forgive my womanish alarms—that 
 your condition will be similar to that of those 
 individuals, who are placed ‘ between two 
 stools.’ ” 
 
 The Grand Inquisitor, who seemed to think 
 my suspicions unbottomed, and that I was fun- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 187 
 
 damentally in error, smiled ; and, shaking his 
 head, sententiously replied, “ Deem me not 
 guilty of a breach of politeness when I tell you, 
 Madam, that prophecy and prognostication are 
 now-a-days out of vogue.” 
 
 The lady, however,—whom my readers will, 
 by this time, surmise to have been their humble 
 servant—instead of making her intended journey 
 to the north, continued to reside in the south $ 
 and having married a Venetian gentleman, she 
 had frequent opportunities of being in the society 
 of this unbelieving Jew of an Inquisitor; but, 
 never did she venture to touch upon the subject 
 of her prophecy, until the French had actually 
 taken possession of Venice ; when, in the pre¬ 
 sence of several persons of distinction, who had 
 been witnesses to the former conversation, she 
 said, “ Well, Cavalier Valleroso, will you now 
 tell me, that my prophecies and prognostica¬ 
 tions were unbecoming the mouth of a young 
 female?” 
 
 Valleroso was so much affected, that he could 
 give no answer ; and ever after he quitted the 
 company, when chance happened to bring 
 them together. Justice, however, demands that 
 I should give my readers a trait in the character 
 of this man, which does honour to his memory. 
 Having been applied to, both by the French 
 
18S 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 and the Austrians, to accept a situation under 
 their respective Governments, he unhesitatingly 
 refused. His answer was—“No; for nearly 
 the whole of my life I have been a sovereign. 
 I will not end my days in servitude.” Though 
 by no means rich, he was almost the only 
 patrician of Venice, who conducted himself 
 thus nobly and independently. 
 
 The above-mentioned despatch from Turin, 
 together with the accounts from France, the 
 meeting of the ministers at Pilnitz, and the Duke 
 of Brunswick’s manifesto, induced at last the 
 Venetian Republic to come to a definitive 
 decision; when, after many very long debates, 
 it was determined, through the powerful in¬ 
 fluence of Francesco Pesaro, well known to 
 have been the partizan of Austria, that the 
 Republic should declare for an unarmed neu¬ 
 trality —a word unknown in the political vocabu¬ 
 lary, and only fitted to proceed from the mouth 
 of the feeble-minded creature by whom it was 
 uttered. 
 
 The Venetian Senate, which, from its wise 
 regulations, had never had occasion, since the 
 formidable conspiracy of the Marquess de Bed- 
 mar, in the year 1618, even to suspect internal 
 commotion, were now so overawed by the nu¬ 
 merous false reports spread by interested emis- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 189 
 
 saries, that they no longer considered them¬ 
 selves safe in holding their public deliberations 
 in the Ducal Palace, and therefore changed 
 their place of meeting every evening, from one 
 private palace to another. The night before 
 they abdicated the Government, that wretched 
 imbecile, the Doge, Manin, was heard to say, 
 at the conversazione of the Senator Damula, 
 “ I am sorry for those poor creatures who will 
 be deprived of their bread by this misfortune; 
 but as for us, we shall all be as well off as 
 ever!” 
 
 O ! had there been but a Dandolo, a Foscari, 
 a Tron, or any other man of spirit among the 
 Senators, the white livered cowardly Doge would 
 have lost his head for his pusillanimity—the 
 seat of government would have been changed 
 as it formerly had been, to one of the Grecian 
 Islands, and the Government would never have 
 consented to have made so miserable, so dis¬ 
 graceful an exit! 
 
 To give my readers a correct notion of the 
 extent of the treachery and corruption that pre¬ 
 vailed, and of the degeneracy of some of the 
 leading members of the Senate, I will here 
 introduce some striking facts. 
 
 The Cavalier Condolmier, the High Admiral, 
 who had the command of a fleet of observa- 
 
190 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 tion, consisting of small vessels, to protect the 
 entrance of the Lagunes, and who had, for some 
 months, been detained at the mouth of the 
 Adriatic, one day took it into his head to invite 
 the Government and the public, to be present 
 at a grand naval manoeuvre of all the ships in 
 the harbour under his command. The day at 
 length arrived; when Venice, and the whole 
 Terra Firma, would have proved a rich field for 
 the active exertions of our nimble fingered gen¬ 
 try of London ; since nearly all the inhabitants 
 had quitted their houses, in order to be present 
 at the wonderful exploits of this Nelson of the 
 Venetian Lagunes. The roads from Treviso, 
 Padua, and along the banks of the Brenta, were 
 thronged with travellers, on foot and on horse¬ 
 back, in carriages and in carts. The lakes 
 were covered with gondolas, peotti, open 
 boats, burchielli, barges from Padua, gallere, 
 &c. &c. &c. 
 
 When the Rear Admiral shewed himself in 
 his full uniform, scraping and bowing to the 
 anxious spectators, as a mountebank does while 
 selling his vile nostrums, he commenced the 
 farce, by ordering the signals to be given. This 
 was accordingly done ; but every one of them 
 remained unanswered. Up and down ran boys 
 and men, from one mast and shrowd to another ; 
 
VENICE. 
 
 191 
 
 but all to no purpose. An apology was made, 
 and the ill success was attributed to want of 
 practice. The Admiral then made signals to 
 another vessel, but with the like success. After 
 firing and making tokens for more than an hour, 
 like men shooting at dead fish, and after ex¬ 
 hausting speaking trumpets, tearing sails, and 
 casting anchors ; after having, in short, failed 
 both to right and left, the poor Admiral was 
 assailed in front, by all those who were disap¬ 
 pointed. Night, however, coming to his assis¬ 
 tance, the charlatan contrived to make his 
 escape, in a whole skin : and thus ended this me¬ 
 morable day, as it had commenced —in smoke ! 
 
 Such w r ere the valorous saviours of their 
 country, who remained to protect the Lagunes, 
 and to hail all persons who passed their vessels, 
 whether coming to, or going from Venice! 
 When the fatal day at length arrived, and the 
 revolution had actually taken place, most of the 
 respectable inhabitants fled to the Terra Firma, 
 from the plunder and confusion that were its 
 inevitable consequences; but which, to say the 
 truth, was nothing, in comparison with what it 
 might have been, and what it actually had been, 
 in every other place, on similar distressing 
 occasions. 
 
192 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 The sailors in these guard ships were from 
 Dalmatia, commonly called Sclavonians, and 
 active votaries to the nimble-fingered Mercury. 
 Fortunate was it for Venice, that these fellows 
 were, at the time, absent from the city. A 
 gondola that happened to be passing, was 
 boarded by them, and asked, “ What was going 
 on at Venice ?” “ Oh, horrible!” answered 
 
 some of the passengers ; “ they are robbing 
 
 and plundering the houses in all directions.” 
 “ Jesu Maria, have mercy upon us!” exclaimed 
 these honest Sclavonian tars, “ let us go in¬ 
 stantly, and get a watch or two a-piece, and a 
 little plate and linen, to take home to our dear 
 wives and children !” 
 
( 193 ) 
 
 . CHAPTER XX. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Proofs of the Determination of the Venetian Republic to main¬ 
 tain a strict Neutrality . Proposition made to it by the 
 
 British Government . General Acton proposes an Italian 
 
 League . Falsehood of Buonapartes Charges against the 
 
 Republic . Conduct of Francesco Pesaro after the Sale of 
 
 Venice to the Austrians . Anecdotes of the great Francesco 
 
 Foscan, Prince Kaunitz, and the Empress Maria Theresa 
 
 . °f the Count de Vergennes and his impenetrable Cypher 
 
 . And °f Lewis the Sixteenth, and General La Fayette. 
 
 As a pi oof that the Venetian Republic had no 
 intention whatever of taking any part against 
 the I lench, it will be only necessary for me to 
 state, that Lavizzari, when he was Venetian resi¬ 
 dent at the Court of Great Britain, sent to his 
 government a proposition made by the British 
 cabinet, offering a certain number of ships to 
 protect the Venetian territories in the Adriatic, 
 besides a considerable sum of money, wherewith 
 to raise an additional number of auxiliaries, if 
 necessary. This proffer the Republic thought 
 fit to decline. The proposition was first made 
 in the year 1793. It was afterwards twice re- 
 vol. i. 
 
 o 
 
194 
 
 V E N I c E. 
 
 peated, and as often rejected; accompanied, 
 however, with expressions of their liveliest grati¬ 
 tude for the interest which the British ministry 
 had taken in the welfare and safety of the 
 Republic. 
 
 A copy of one of the documents containing 
 this refusal, fell into the hands of the French 
 Government; by what means has not been ascer¬ 
 tained. It is, however, supposed to have had 
 some influence on the conduct of Buonaparte 
 towards the Republic; from the certainty it 
 afforded him, that he had nothing to fear from 
 England, in consequence of any aggression he 
 might think proper to commit. The said copy 
 of the rejected proposition was shewn to the 
 Venetian minister in Switzerland, in conse¬ 
 quence, as is supposed, of Pesaro’s project of 
 an unarmed neutrality. 
 
 General Acton was then the minister of 
 Naples. On the despatches to the British am¬ 
 bassador, Sir William Hamilton, containing the 
 refusal of the Venetian Republic, being shown 
 to him, though the general did not wish the 
 King of Naples to take any share in the English 
 system of naval armament about to be established 
 in the Mediterranean, he nevertheless thought 
 it highly necessary, that an Italian league should 
 be entered into; and, so sensibly was he affected 
 
VENICE. 
 
 195 
 
 bv the perusal of the above despatch, contain¬ 
 ing the determination of the Venetian senate, 
 that he wrote an energetic memorial to the 
 Ilepublic, dissuading them from persisting in 
 the fatal notion of remaining neutral ; and, 
 above all things, of remaining unarmed. 
 
 Nor would he even trust his despatch to Bus- 
 cinello, the Venetian ambassador, but sent a 
 Neapolitan nobleman expressly to Venice, with 
 a proposition for maintaining a line of guard- 
 ships, to be united with the Venetian, from Capo 
 Passero to Corfu. The Grand Master of Malta 
 also undertook to guard the line, from that 
 island up to the Levant; while Pope Pius the 
 Sixth offered to assist the Venetians, by sea and 
 land, with all the Italian powers; and remon¬ 
 strated, in the strongest terms, against the im¬ 
 politic adoption, on their part, of an unarmed 
 neutrality. But, all was of no avail. The Go¬ 
 vernment of Venice had taken its measures; 
 and was resolved not to swerve therefrom. 
 
 With what face then, could Buonaparte 
 accuse that Republic of treachery, in arming 
 against the French, and adduce that treachery 
 as a formal reason for violating the Venetian 
 neutrality; for inducing Bergamo and Brescia to 
 revolt; and for directing the horrible massacre 
 
 o 2 
 
190 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 at Verona, and effecting the overthrow of its 
 Government? 
 
 But all these existing documents are nothing, 
 when compared to the mass of proofs which 
 could be adduced, exonerating the Venetian 
 Republic from every foul charge made against 
 it, by the then commander of the army of Italy. 
 Nay, Barras himself could have confuted the 
 whole of Buonaparte’s base accusations ; and 
 the other four members of the Directory had 
 very weighty reasons—reasons as big as a plum 
 —for guaranteeing the independence of the 
 Venetian States. No: they are indebted for all 
 their distresses to the primitive sin of not keep¬ 
 ing up an army by sea and by land, which 
 might act in conjunction with those of the 
 above-mentioned powers, and thereby cause 
 their neutrality to be respected. 
 
 From all which, I think it is abundantly 
 evident, that the ruin of Italy may with justice 
 be attributed to that weak, as well as wicked 
 senator, Francesco Pesaro; whose influence, 
 and whose notorious partiality for the Austrians, 
 induced the Venetian Republic to depart from 
 its antient system of an armed neutrality; 
 whereby, on all former occasions, it had caused 
 itself to be respected. But, influenced by cor- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 197 
 
 ruption by ambition—by folly—and by per¬ 
 sonal interest, he compelled the senate to adopt 
 a neutrality unarmed, and had the baseness to 
 stigmatize all those who opposed him, as traitors 
 and jacobins. 
 
 c lancesco Labbia was likewise in the interest 
 of Austria. On the first reverses, however, of 
 the Imperial army, whilst he was Podesta of 
 Padua, he opened the gates of that city to the 
 Fiench. He was nevertheless rewarded with a 
 German wife, and was favourably received at 
 Vienna—in recompense for betraying the go¬ 
 vernment of his native country ! 
 
 As soon as Venice had been sold by Buona¬ 
 parte to the Austrians, Francis Pesaro was dis¬ 
 patched by the latter government from Vienna, 
 wluther he had fled, to place the foreign yoke 
 on the necks of his fellow-citizens; those citi¬ 
 zens who, during the space of fourteen centu¬ 
 ries, had governed themselves, without suffering 
 the humiliation of any foreign interference. 
 The first act of Pesaro’s authority, after his 
 return to Venice, was the banishment of his 
 only brother, Pietro Pesaro; who, at this mo¬ 
 ment, lesides, and has been residing ever since, 
 in the outskirts of I.ondon, in a small mansion, 
 not so large as one of the out-houses of his 
 
 o 3 
 
198 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 magnificent marble palace, on the grand canal 
 at Venice. 
 
 Francis Pesaro, and a few of his followers, 
 equally ignorant as himself, and who had always 
 been considered to be so by the major part of 
 the senators, and especially by the great pater- 
 patrico, Francesco Foscari, who generally made 
 Pesaro the laughing-stock of the senate, when¬ 
 ever he attempted to open his mouth—being 
 left, by their deaths, masters of the field of action, 
 opposed the Republic in every thing that tended 
 to its welfare ; but most especially in that one 
 thing, so essential to its own dignity as an 
 independent state, and to the salvation of all 
 Italy—an armed neutrality. 
 
 Having introduced the celebrated Frances 
 Foscari to the notice of my reader, I shall, I 
 am confident, be excused a short digression. 
 
 It is unnecessary for me to inform him, that 
 the winged lion of St. Mark was the antient 
 arms of the Republic ; that saint having become 
 the patron of Venice, ever since his remains were 
 brought to that city from the Levant. Even 
 the animal itself is so represented ; holding be¬ 
 tween his claws the book of the laws of that 
 evangelical saint, and distinguished from his 
 brother lions by having a crown on his head, 
 
V K N J c E. 
 
 199 
 
 and wings rising out of his shoulders •, which 
 insignia were at the head of all the decrees and 
 acts of the Republic. This circumstance gave 
 rise to the witty reply of Foscari to Prince 
 Kaunitz, the Austrian minister, on his asking 
 one day, in the presence of the Empress Maria 
 Theresa, at whose court Foscari then resided as 
 the Venetian ambassador, “where the Republic 
 had found its winged lion ?” “ In the same 
 
 forest,” replied Foscari, “ in which Austria dis¬ 
 covered her two-headed eagle.” 
 
 The beautiful Maria Theresa laughed heartily, 
 not only at Foscari’s answer, but at the effect 
 it produced on Prince Kaunitz ; who, suddenly 
 starting back, nearly knocked off his superb 
 court wig, which it usually took him a couple 
 of hours every morning to adjust to his satis¬ 
 faction. 
 
 The answer given to the Austrian minister 
 by the shrewd Venetian, recals to my recollec¬ 
 tion a singular trait in the character of Prince 
 Kaunitz, shewing the uncommon attention 
 which he paid to his dress, and especially to his 
 peruke and his teeth ; the latter of which he 
 would wash after dinner at table, in the presence 
 of his guests. This eminent diplomatist, who 
 had been the confidential minister of five suc¬ 
 cessive monarchs, had, like all other great men, 
 
 o 4 
 
200 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 his foibles; thereby proving themselves to be 
 mere mortals. For, throughout every scene of 
 life, virtue and wisdom and talent will be found 
 opposed by vice and folly and presumption; 
 generosity and magnanimity by sordid avarice ; 
 and sublimity of soul in theory, by deeds of 
 littleness in practice. I venture the reflection 
 after long personal experience. 
 
 This same Prince Kaunitz was the most dis¬ 
 tinguished German dandy of his day, and was, 
 as I have said, especially particular in the ar¬ 
 rangement of his wig. I had one morning an 
 appointment with him on some business for a 
 friend; when his secretary told me he was sure 
 the Prince had forgot the hour he had appointed, 
 as it was the precise time which he devoted to 
 his toilet, and that I should have to wait at least 
 a couple of hours. While I was so waiting, 
 this secretary related to me the following par¬ 
 ticulars. 
 
 It was the usual practice, he said, for the 
 valet-de-chambre to dress the said wig on the 
 Prince’s head. As soon as the row upon row 
 of curls had been diplomatically and skilfully 
 arranged, the knight of the curling irons next 
 emptied at least a pound of powder into his 
 pouch, and, from an aperture in the door, made 
 for the purpose, puffed it into an empty room. 
 
VENICE. 
 
 201 
 
 When the room was completely filled therewith, 
 the Prince, with a mask on his face, entered it, 
 and took a few stately turns backward and for¬ 
 ward, until every hair of his perfumed perriwig 
 had received its due quantum of the powdery 
 particles. 
 
 Foscari, perceiving that Maria Theresa en¬ 
 joyed the above retort, took the liberty of telling 
 her Imperial Majesty, that she might smile, but 
 it was no laughing matter to himself, who, on 
 his return to Venice, after a three years’ resi¬ 
 dence at her court, could not boast of having 
 so much as once had the pleasure of beholding 
 her Imperial Majesty’s countenance. 
 
 Maria Theresa, imagining that the Venetian 
 ambassador had attempted to say something 
 very witty, desired him to explain himself. 
 Upon which, Foscari replied, “ May it please 
 your Majesty, I am unfortunately so near¬ 
 sighted, that without my magnifying-glass, I am 
 unable to distinguish the features of any indi¬ 
 vidual I am in conversation with; but I dare 
 not, of course, venture to make use of it in 
 your Imperial Majesty’s presence.” 
 
 “ Yes, yes! Foscarisaid the Empress, 
 “ pray make use of your glass as much as 
 you please; only take care that you do not 
 
magnify my defects!” Foscari accordingly 
 availed himself of the royal permission, exclaim¬ 
 ing while doing so, “ Bella! bella! si, per 
 Dio V’ and continuing to look at her Imperial 
 Majesty, until he quitted the court. 
 
 The great Francis Foscari was also ambassa¬ 
 dor at Constantinople, at the period when the 
 famous Count de Vergennes was resident in the 
 same capacity. Both of them being men of 
 liberal minds, the Count, discovering the won¬ 
 derful sagacity and superior talents of Foscari, 
 soon became his most intimate friend, as well 
 as his disciple in politics. During Foscari’s life¬ 
 time, no affair of importance took place in 
 France, after the Count became minister, on 
 which he was not consulted. Happy, most 
 happy, would it have been for France, if her 
 able minister had been at liberty to profit by 
 that great man’s counsel! It was from Foscari, 
 that the Count de Vergennes obtained the 
 famous cypher, by means of which he carried 
 on that impenetrable correspondence, which 
 baffled all the courts of Europe, and even his 
 own most confidential secretaries ; who wrote 
 the letters, and received the answers, in this 
 famous cypher, but nevertheless were unable 
 to guess at a tittle of their contents. This 
 
VENICE. 
 
 203 
 
 cypher afterwards proved of the greatest service 
 to many persons of the highest rank, connected 
 with the French court. 
 
 And here I cannot but expres my astonish¬ 
 ment, that Madame Campati, who has been so 
 minute in her details of the dreadful sufferings 
 to which the royal family were subjected, should 
 never once have made mention of the infamous 
 system of espionage which was resorted to, and 
 the treachery which was used, with regard to 
 the royal correspondence on the most trifling 
 subjects, by the very persons who were in the 
 service of the court. Perhaps those individuals 
 were still living at the time of her writing her 
 Memoirs ; and that therefore she was unwilling 
 to subject herself to the vengeance, which an 
 exposure of their baseness might have brought 
 down upon her. 
 
 Be this as it may, I well know that the Count 
 de Vergennes, during his administration, made 
 use of this cypher, in all matters of importance; 
 and that the whole of his correspondence 
 with Foscari was carried on through the same 
 medium. I know not at what period of the 
 troubles in France—whether at the time of the 
 famous necklace affair, or after the horrors com¬ 
 mitted at Versailles on the sixth of October, or 
 at a later period of the revolution—it was put 
 
204 
 
 YEN'] C E. 
 
 into the hands of a person who communicated 
 it to the Queen ; but I do know that she was 
 thereby enabled to avoid discoveries in the 
 course of her extensive correspondence. As I 
 was frequently employed in the confidential 
 transactions of the ever-to-be-regretted Marie 
 Antoinette, I often assisted in copying the said 
 despatches, in the presence of the good Madame 
 Campan. It, of course, became necessary that 
 I should have the cypher, to instruct the per¬ 
 sons to whom the letters were addressed, and of 
 which I was generally the bearer, how to arrive 
 at their contents. 
 
 As the key to it was changed every time, and 
 could be altered at pleasure, it might be ren¬ 
 dered of the greatest utility ; as it was morally 
 impossible for a third person to discover what 
 was passing, though in possession of the cypher 
 and the despatches, without being previously 
 made acquainted with the key fixed on between 
 the writer and the person to whom the letter 
 was addressed. It has ever since remained in 
 my possession. 
 
 Still further to lengthen this digression. On 
 the day that the King and royal family of 
 France were desirous of going to St. Cloud, at 
 the time when the people were averse to their 
 leaving the Tuilleries, M. de La Fayette, who 
 
VENICE. 
 
 205 
 
 commanded the national troops then on guard 
 at the palace, entered the king’s closet, for 
 the purpose of knowing his majesty’s pleasure. 
 “ From what I have observed from my window,” 
 said the king, “ I fear our intended journey 
 cannot be carried into effect without bloodshed; 
 and, that being the case, I shall endeavour to 
 persuade the Queen not to attempt it.” La 
 Fayette made his bow and retired. 
 
 On going out of the palace, lie met General 
 Bournonville (from whom I had the anecdote), 
 and said to him, “ the king’s irresolute conduct 
 this day, will very probably cost me my head, 
 and his majesty his crown. Luckily I have not 
 committed myself, by ordering the troops to 
 make any resistance ; for I am sure I should 
 have been sacrificed, from the king’s want of 
 firmness. I wish he may not have cause to 
 repent his excessive condescension to the will 
 of the populace.” 
 
 As I have already introduced the name of 
 the great Maria Theresa, the mother of the 
 beautiful Marie Antoinette, I shall wind up 
 this chapter of digressions with a few anecdotes 
 relative to her Imperial Majesty, which were 
 communicated to me, when I visited Vienna, 
 in the year 1794, by the Prince de Ligne. 
 
206 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Maria Theresa was considered the hand¬ 
 somest woman of her day. She was the last of 
 the race of the Counts of Hapsburgh, and, 
 history says, of the noble race of Swiss Car¬ 
 bonari, since known by the name and title of 
 the House of Austria. 
 
 She was married, in the year 1736, to Francis 
 Duke of Lorraine and Bar, generally known by 
 the title of Francis, the first Emperor of Ger¬ 
 many ; by whom the Empress Queen had many 
 children, and to nine of whom I have had the 
 honour of being presented : namely, Joseph the 
 Second; Leopold the Second, Grand Duke of 
 Tuscany, and afterwards Emperor; Maximilian, 
 Grand Master of the Teutonic Order, Coadju¬ 
 tor of Cologne and Munster, and Elector of 
 Cologne; Ferdinand, who was Archduke of 
 Milan ; Caroline, Queen of Sicily ; Marie An¬ 
 toinette, Queen of France; Maria Amelia, 
 Archduchess of Parma ; Christina, Arch¬ 
 duchess of the Low Countries ; Marianna, Arch¬ 
 abbess of Prague and Clagenfurth; and Eliza¬ 
 beth, Duchess of Inspruck ; all of whose hands, 
 excepting those of Joseph the Second, I have 
 had the honour of kissing. 
 
 The Emperor Francis was considered as 
 handsome a man, as Maria Theresa was a 
 
VENICE. 
 
 207 
 
 woman. He was crowned Emperor by the 
 name of Francis the First, jointly with his 
 consort; she being the heiress to the crown. 
 By his affability of deportment, his condescen¬ 
 sion, and his polished manners, he completely 
 won the heart of his beautiful, but haughty 
 empress. 
 
 Being, however, naturally of a jealous dis¬ 
 position, Maria Theresa soon fancied that she 
 had discovered a growing attachment, on the 
 part of her husband, to one of the beauties of 
 her court, a maid of the royal bed-chamber. 
 Her majesty taxed this innocent female with 
 the suspected crime, in so abrupt a manner, 
 that the lady could not conceal her indignation, 
 and was in the act of quitting the royal pre¬ 
 sence, without deigning to answer the charge. 
 This conduct enraged the great Maria Theresa 
 to such a degree, as to induce her to vent her 
 passion on her supposed rival, by presenting her 
 with an imperial box of the ear. 
 
 It happened to be levee day. The ante¬ 
 chamber was at this time crowded with com¬ 
 pany, and the celebrated Prince de Ligne w r as 
 entering the presence chamber, at the very 
 moment when her Majesty had been lavishing 
 her favours with so bountiful a hand. Knowing 
 that his tongue resembled a cathedral bell on 
 
208 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 the death of a sovereign, and that if the prince 
 left her presence without some explanation, the 
 circumstance would soon be made public to all 
 the inhabitants of Vienna, Maria Theresa, turn¬ 
 ing round to him, with the greatest composure 
 and affability, said—“ My dear Prince, it is 
 some time since I promised you the order of 
 Maria Theresa, together with my own picture.” 
 Taking then from her scrutoire an elegant 
 snuff-box, in which was the said order, and on 
 its lid her majesty’s portrait, set in diamonds, 
 she presented the Prince with the same, and 
 interrogated him as to what he thought of the 
 likeness. “ Madam,” replied he, “ the proof 
 you have just now given” (alluding to the box 
 on the ear) “ is a copy of nature itself.” 
 
 On the Prince’s returning to the drawing¬ 
 room, where the circumstance had got wind, he 
 was surrounded by a crowd of courtiers, who 
 had heard the quarrel, and were all anxious for 
 his explanation of the cause of it. Observing 
 this, the Prince showed the box and the portrait 
 to a lady who was standing near him, saying at 
 the same time, in a tone sufficiently loud to be 
 heard by her Majesty—“ the present makes me 
 forget the past!” 
 
 Maria Theresa was so jealous of her husband, 
 that on his going one evening to the Free 
 
VENICE. 
 
 209 
 
 Mason’s club without first acquainting her with 
 his intention, she had the Lodge surrounded by 
 guards ; and, on the officer who commanded 
 them demanding, in her Majesty’s name, the 
 immediate dispersion of the meeting, Francis, 
 presenting himself, said, “ Return to the Em¬ 
 press, your mistress, and inform her that, wher¬ 
 ever her husband is one of the number, she 
 may rest assured that nothing of a treasonable 
 nature will ever be plotted against her, or 
 against the state.” 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Further Reflections on the Overthrow ofl the Venetian Republic 
 
 . Its happy Condition between the Years 1780 and 1793 
 
 . Francisco Pesaro appointed Austrian Commissary- 
 
 General . His Cruelty . And Death . Anecdotes of 
 
 the Venetian Gondolieri . Anecdote of the President Mon¬ 
 tesquieu when at Venicee . The Canal Orfano . The 
 
 S birraglia . Duganas . Smuggling. 
 
 To return to the affairs of the Venetians, at 
 the period of the overthrow of the Republic. 
 The salvation of all Italy, as well as the pre¬ 
 servation of her own rank in the scale of nations. 
 
 VOL. i. 
 
 p 
 
'210 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 required that Venice should continue an inde¬ 
 pendent state ; as it had been during the many 
 wars in the south of Europe, between the con¬ 
 tending powers of France, Spain, and Austria. 
 The armies of either of those powers, on enter¬ 
 ing the Venetian territories, were immediately 
 met by an armed force, and conducted by it to 
 the frontiers. But then the Republic had in 
 constant activity from thirty to forty thousand 
 troops—a number which was more than suf¬ 
 ficient to keep either party in awe ; besides four- 
 and-twenty ships of war, ready to be launched, 
 in case of an aggression on the part of any one 
 of the said powers. 
 
 The wisdom of such a step on the part of the 
 Government was obvious, since it effectually 
 protected its subjects from molestation. The 
 advantages resulting from such a line of con¬ 
 duct may be guessed at from the fact, that the 
 Republic never once compromised its neutrality 
 with any of the belligerent powers, but always 
 maintained a rigid impartiality, and thereby 
 caused itself to be alike respected and feared. 
 
 From the year 1780 to the year 1793 or 1794, 
 the Republic was the richest, the most flourish¬ 
 ing, and the most popular power in all Italy. 
 It had not been engaged in war, whether in¬ 
 ternal or external, for many, many years. The 
 
VENICE. 
 
 211 
 
 population, throughout the whole Venetian 
 territory, was exasperated beyond measure 
 against the sanguinary Masnadieri , who had 
 butchered the King and Queen of France. 
 All that they wanted was a leader; and, if an 
 able one had stepped forward, the horde that 
 was then spreading devastation and ruin over 
 all Italy would have been exterminated root 
 and branch. Nothing was wanted but the 
 countenance and encouragement of the govern¬ 
 ment ; and, in vindication of that government 
 from the foul charges which have been brought 
 against it, I am bound to declare, that their 
 folly in rejecting the wise proposition for keep¬ 
 ing up an armed force, ready to check the 
 violence of the French invader, was the chief 
 cause of their ruin, and of his aggrandizement. 
 
 It was Pesaro—the base, the imbecile, the 
 treacherons Pesaro—who bullied the Senate into 
 a departure from their former system of an 
 armed neutrality. The spirit of vigorous re¬ 
 sistance which actuated the Dandolos, the 
 Zens, the Trons, the Barbarigos, and that 
 pater pa true Francesco Foscari, had long since 
 fled, and those great men buried in the general 
 ruin. The consideration is a truly awful one. 
 The bare idea of seeing from ten to fifteen 
 thousand individuals, of all descriptions, on one 
 
 p 2 
 
VENICE. 
 
 212 
 
 day in a state of comfort and even of afflu¬ 
 ence, and on the next thrown upon the very 
 pave, is enough to rouse the most sluggish ot 
 mortals into activity, “ be his brains as barren 
 as the banks of Libya.” And such must ever be 
 the case, during the interregnum between the 
 downfall of one government and the organiza¬ 
 tion of a new one. 
 
 When Francesco Pesaro first came to Venice, 
 as the Austrian Commissary-General, furnished 
 with full powers to inflict on bis countrymen 
 that persecution, imprisonment, and banish¬ 
 ment, which he himself so richly merited at 
 their hands, for having first betrayed and then 
 deserted the government, a grand fete was 
 given at the Filarmonica to this modern Sylla, 
 at which Madame Grassini was engaged to 
 sins:. When I entered the saloon, the concert 
 had already commenced ; and a gentleman, one 
 of the chers amis of the above singer, whose 
 name was Giuseppe Ferro, a corn-factor, obli¬ 
 gingly gave up his own seat for my accom¬ 
 modation. Of course, I entered into that 
 kind of conversation with him which his 
 civility demanded. 
 
 On the other side of the saloon was seated 
 the great Francesco Pesaro. As soon as the first 
 act of the concert was over, my husband, being 
 
VEN1C E. 
 
 <218 
 
 an old acquaintance of the mighty man, went 
 across the room to congratulate him on his 
 return to his country ; and, pointing to the spot 
 where I was sitting, he said, “ Yonder is my 
 better half; but she is so near-sighted, that I 
 am sure she cannot distinguish your Excellency 
 at this distance.”—“ What,” replied Pesaro, 
 “ the lady who is conversing with the gentle¬ 
 man by the side of her ? I must go and have a 
 little chat with her.” Accordingly, Pesaro 
 crossed the saloon, and very politely seated him¬ 
 self by me, and asked who the person was who 
 had so much engaged my attention, as to pre¬ 
 vent me from recognizing him. Unluckily for 
 the poor man, I replied, “ It is M. Ferro, to 
 whose politeness I am indebted for my seat.” 
 —“ What!” exclaimed Pesaro, “ that birbone, 
 who was a member of the municipality?”— 
 “ The same,” said I ; “ and who, at the time 
 of the downfall of the government, deserved so 
 much from his country, by preventing the city 
 from falling a prey to the plunder of the 
 Schiavoni.” 
 
 On that very night, poor Ferro was arrested by 
 the agents of Pesaro ; dragged from his rela¬ 
 tives, who entirely depended on him for their 
 subsistence, without any accusation being ad¬ 
 duced against him, without being heard in his 
 
 p 3 
 
£ 214 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 defence, or allowed to communicate with any 
 one of his family, or receive the smallest assis¬ 
 tance ; and sent off as a galley slave, to work 
 on the Danube at Olmutz ; where he remained 
 until the French retook the Venetian territories, 
 when, with many others, he was released from 
 captivity, and restored to his numerous friends 
 and distressed relations. 
 
 It was currently reported, that Pesaro had a 
 list of nearly three hundred individuals, who 
 were to have shared the fate of poor Ferro; if 
 Providence, in its mercy, had not ordered it 
 otherwise, by shortly afterwards calling the 
 unfeeling and unprincipled man before that 
 awful tribunal, against whose decision there is 
 no appeal. The wretched man was seized with 
 excessive delirium, brought on by turning a 
 private difference into public revenge, and 
 expired after an illness of a few days. His 
 death gave life and liberty to some of the most 
 distinguished of his fellow-citizens He might 
 truly be considered as the malignant genius of 
 the Venetians, in the same way as the hunch¬ 
 backed Visconti was of the Milanese. 
 
 What I have further to say respecting Venice 
 will principally consist of miscellaneous anec¬ 
 dotes, collected during my long residence in 
 this interesting city, calculated to make my 
 
VENICE. 
 
 215 
 
 readers still further acquainted with the man¬ 
 ners and the customs of its inhabitants under 
 their happy Republic. 
 
 I have already mentioned the Ducal Palace. 
 In the hall of the Pregadi, which was furnished 
 with benches having backs to them, the Senate 
 formerly assembled. When any of those warm 
 debates took place of which I have elsewhere 
 spoken, it was customary for the barcajuoli, or 
 boatmen belonging to the patricians, to assemble 
 with their gondolas on the canal, close to that 
 side of the palace which overlooked the port; 
 considering themselves the second body in the 
 state, and the native defenders of the first. 
 
 If, during the time that the senators were 
 shut up in close deliberation, which in the 
 winter often continued till late in the night, any 
 disturbance happened to take place, they w r ould 
 shew their vigilance, by watching the motions 
 of the people around them with circumspec¬ 
 tion, and without betraying the slightest impa¬ 
 tience or inquietude, or vaunting themselves on 
 being engaged in the service of i principi, 
 as they were accustomed to denominate their 
 masters. 
 
 Ministering to the inclinations of the nobles, 
 and being the confidants of their pleasures, as 
 well as a sort of moiichards of the government, 
 
 e 4 
 
<216 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 each of them fancied himself in the secrets of 
 the state. Thev would nevertheless treat those 
 of their own calling, who were not so fortunate 
 as to be in the service of the nobles, on a foot¬ 
 ing of equality, considering them as brothers; 
 which, indeed, is the word they make use of 
 whenever they meet. “ Addio caro fradel 
 “ perme fradel &c., are the customary saluta¬ 
 tions on passing and repassing in their gondolas, 
 calling to one another, “ non travagliar , non 
 strascinar, ipoveri cristiani” When this conduct 
 is contrasted with the language of vulgar abuse 
 made use of by the hackney-coachmen and 
 watermen of London and Paris, the Venetian 
 Gondolieri actually appear to be saints. 
 
 This striking difference is mainly to be at¬ 
 tributed to their detestation of the filthy habit 
 of intoxication—a virtue common to the whole 
 tribe. I have seen many of the Gondolieri who 
 actually knew Tasso by heart, and would recite, 
 or rather chant, whole stanzas, while rowing the 
 passengers along the canals. The practice is, 
 however, rare at present. And, no wonder ! For 
 the very appearance of the German saner hr out e 
 gentry, is sufficient to drive from the heads of 
 these poor fellows, all remembrance of the 
 sweet strains of the divine author of J.a Geru- 
 salemme Liberata ! 
 
V E N I C E. 
 
 217 
 
 The Gondolieri are, in general, a robust race 
 of men, remarkably well made, healthy, good- 
 looking, cleanly in their persons, and frugal in 
 their mode of living. They participate in the 
 natural gaiety of their country, and pass the 
 greater part of their lives, tete-a-tete with 
 nobles, citizens, and the strangers of distinc¬ 
 tion who daily arrive at Venice. From their 
 native intelligence and vivacity they often 
 start subjects of conversation, and are suffered 
 to use a greater portion of freedom, in their 
 intercourse with passengers, than is usually 
 accorded to persons gaining their livelihood by 
 a manual occupation. 
 
 Of the truth of this remark, let the reader 
 take the following as an instance. In Venice, 
 the streets are lighted up at night with small 
 lamps, pretty much in the same way as the 
 streets of Paris. As one of the Gondolieri was 
 drawing the lamp up, a noble patrician, who 
 happened to be passing, desired him to raise it 
 a little higher. Upon which the man answered, 
 “ It is sufficiently high for your and my horns 
 to pass under, but if those of your Excellency 
 are longer than mine, I will certainly draw up 
 the lamp, so that you may pass on without 
 coming in contact with it.” I had this anecdote 
 from the gentleman who was the cause of it, 
 
218 
 
 V E NICE. 
 
 and who hastened with it to the Casino; where 
 it formed the subject of the evening’s conver¬ 
 sazione , and certainly lost nothing of its spright¬ 
 liness by the manner in which it was related. 
 
 So attached are the Gondolieri to their watery 
 element, that if they happen to have a dispute 
 with a man coming from Mestre or Fusina, two 
 small towns which are only three or four miles 
 from Venice, and are asked by their comrades 
 who he is, they answer, “ mi so un forest o, chi 
 vien da $ a, del diavolo —he is a foreigner, and 
 comes from the devil knows where.” 
 
 One of these barcajuoli being on a visit at 
 Genoa to his sister, who was a dancer at the 
 theatre there, happening to be looking at one 
 of the famous stone bridges of that city, a per¬ 
 son accosted him, and asked whether he was 
 not a stranger: the poor fellow answered in 
 the negative. On returning to his sister’s lodg¬ 
 ing, he told her, laughingly, what had taken 
 place. “ Vn sta,” said he, “ che vi conta una 
 bella storia : stavo guardar quel ponte la sii; 
 mi vien uno a domandarmi se son foresto V y 
 “ I hope,” said his sister, “ you answered 
 yes ?” “ Buzzera /” continued he, “ ho detto 
 
 che son Venezian .” “ But,” rejoined his 
 sister, “ you are at this present time at 
 Genoa, and are therefore a stranger.” It, how- 
 
V E N I C E. 
 
 219 
 
 ever, took a great deal of time to convince the 
 man that he could be a stranger, out of Venice. 
 
 On the feast of San Rocco, the Doge and 
 Senate used to hear mass at that beautiful 
 church in great state. The procession was 
 conveyed in peotas, or covered barges. I was 
 once present when it was passing under one of 
 the bridges ; where two or three of the unem¬ 
 ployed Gondolieri belonging to their Excellencies 
 were belabouring with their tongues those who 
 were engaged in rowing the cortege. The 
 wordy contest brought to the windows of their 
 boats the whole of the Signoria, who seemingly 
 enjoyed with much good-natured satisfaction 
 the native sallies of this privileged order. In¬ 
 deed, the Gondolieri of Venice appear to pos¬ 
 sess prerogatives similar to those which were 
 formerly exercised by M. de Roquelaure, at 
 the court of Lewis the Fourteenth : “ on lew 
 fait lionneur de tons les bons-mots, que des raisons 
 de decence on de 'politique ne per met tent pas aux 
 veritable peres de se declarer.” 
 
 From the period of the rupture which took 
 place between the Republic and Benedict the 
 Fourteenth, that Pope refused to give a car¬ 
 dinal’s hat to any of the Venetian bishops. At 
 his death, when Rozzonico, the cardinal bishop 
 of Padua, was elected to the holy see, the Gon- 
 
220 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 dolieri, as he was a Venetian by birth, were ac¬ 
 customed to say, “ We have long been without 
 hats; but now we have the hatter— abbiamo 
 adesso il cape Mere.” 
 
 The anniversary of the Festa di San Rocco 
 still continues to be the day on which the Vene¬ 
 tian artists exhibit their annual performances in 
 the Scuola di San Rocco. It is one of the first 
 academies in Venice, and is filled with the works 
 of Tintoretto, Titian, Paul Veronese, and other 
 eminent masters. I was amazingly struck with 
 Tintoretto’s picture of the Annunciation—as 
 well as with many others. 
 
 It has never been ascertained, whether the 
 President Montesquieu paid a visit to Venice as 
 an indifferent traveller, or as a mouchard of the 
 court of France—(which court was constantly 
 in the habit of giving those honourable com- 
 .missions to persons of all ranks and classes, not 
 excepting the fair sex)—or whether it was to 
 collect information, from the valuable political 
 manuscripts in which the Republic abounded, 
 and which might furnish matter for his cele¬ 
 brated work, “ VEsprit des Loix.” 
 
 Whatever might have been the President’s 
 motives, his conduct during his stay excited 
 considerable suspicion. He was observed run¬ 
 ning from one coffee-house to another; interro- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 221 
 
 gating every body who would listen to him; 
 and taking copies and drawings of every thing 
 he saw and heard. At length he received a 
 significant hint, that his longer stay at Venice 
 would neither be agreeable to the Government 
 nor to the French ambassador ; and at the same 
 time he was particularly cautioned, to be ex¬ 
 tremely careful with regard to his papers ; as, 
 in crossing the lakes from Venice to Fusina, it 
 was not improbable that he would be arrested 
 on his journey. 
 
 He therefore shortly after took his leave of 
 Venice, with his head full of the Canal Oi'fano* 
 The Baron was not arrested ; but, when he was 
 in the middle of the lakes, perceiving another 
 gondola making up to him, he fancied he w r as 
 going to be attacked, and, in his panic, had 
 recourse to the expedient of Castor, when pur¬ 
 sued by the hunters ; and, taking from his tra- 
 
 * The rumour runs, that the Venetian Government used 
 to cause their state prisoners to be privately strangled in 
 their cells, and then thrown into the above canal. Others 
 assert, that they were put into sacks alive, and thrown from 
 the windows of their prison into their watery grave. In the 
 life of Gustavus Vasa, who gloriously delivered the Swedes 
 from the tyrannical yoke of Christian the Second of Den¬ 
 mark, we are told, that that execrable monster amused him¬ 
 self in compelling his nobility of both sexes to sew the sacks 
 in which they were to be drowned. 
 
222 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 veiling bag all the memorandums and observa¬ 
 tions he had made during his stay at Venice, he 
 committed them to the watery deep. 
 
 The whole, however, was a manoeuvre played 
 off to frighten the author of the “ Spirit of 
 Laws.” If the Baron had had sufficient courage 
 to direct his gondolier to proceed, he would 
 have passed on unmolested ; as the individuals 
 employed to put the trick into execution were 
 ordered not to impede his departure by ex¬ 
 amining his baggage; but the fear of being- 
 pursued by the boats of the Sbirraglia , made 
 the author of “ l’Esprit” lose his spirits, and 
 every other consideration but personal safety. 
 
 The communications between Venice and 
 various parts of the Terra Firma are so nume¬ 
 rous, that, besides the different Duganas, or 
 custom-houses, the lakes were covered with 
 boats filled with Sbirri; and, if a foreigner hap¬ 
 pened not to be accompanied by an ambassa¬ 
 dor’s gondola, he was often subjected to repeated 
 unpleasant visits from this honourable class of 
 Venetian Bow Street runners. 
 
 They dared not, however, to approach the 
 gondolas of a foreign minister, a consul, or their 
 agents ; which were considered sacred. At that 
 time, every body wore silk stockings, and no 
 person of decent appearance would have thought 
 
VENICE. 
 
 223 
 
 of entering the theatre, or the casinos, in boots, 
 for fear of being suspected of having been con¬ 
 fined for felony, and of wearing them to hide 
 the marks of the chains on his legs. Such, 
 indeed, was the common observation of the 
 Venetians on persons who were discovered to 
 be thus habited. 
 
 Though the stocking weavers of Venice were 
 unable to furnish a tenth part of the quantity 
 necessary for the supply of the inhabitants, 
 those manufactured in France were strictly 
 prohibited. But, notwithstanding this prohi¬ 
 bition, every body wore them; and even the 
 sbirraglia would supply the dealers in contraband 
 goods with them, as well as private families. 
 The Republic therefore thought proper to take 
 off the prohibition, and allowed the stockings to 
 enter the Venetian states, on paying, at the rate 
 of a livre a pair, duty. The contraband traffic 
 still continuing, the duty was reduced first to 
 half a livre, and next to only twopence the 
 pair; after which, it was not worth the while, 
 for so small a sum, to run the risk of selling 
 them. Thus was the contraband traffic in 
 stockings put an end to, and the article made 
 a source of considerable revenue to the state; 
 and thus were many thousands produced to the 
 Government, which before were divided be- 
 
224 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 tween a few worthless wretches, who lived by 
 the perversion of that justice, which they were 
 paid liberal salaries to uphold. O, self-interest, 
 self-interest, how fatal is thy influence ! How 
 often dost thou change the noblest of God’s 
 works; men who, but for thy accursed seduc¬ 
 tion, would have lived honourable and virtuous, 
 and died spotless and revered to the latest 
 posterity ! 
 
 My reader may lay it down as a maxim, that 
 when a man cuts his throat, he has nobo¬ 
 dy’s interest at heart but his own. A painful 
 reflection this, for public responsibility! In 
 times of civil warfare and general commotion, 
 many a suicide has been committed; but, there 
 is no instance, in the whole history of am¬ 
 bition, of a mortal, in the flower of manhood, 
 and in the possession of every earthly enjoyment, 
 devoting himself to self-destruction, unless he 
 has been detected in the act of attempting to 
 usurp legal powder, illegally. When sovereigns are 
 merciful, and colleagues are discreet enough to 
 maintain a prudent silence, the unravelment of 
 the mystery becomes the business of history! 
 
( 22.5 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Venetian Amusements . Volo dal Campanile . Captain 
 
 Manby . The Niccolotti and Castellani . Good nexus 
 
 for Gourmands . List of Italian Delicacies . Glass 
 
 Mamfactory at Murano . Barano . Venice the parent 
 
 of other Maritime States . The Venetians once the models 
 
 of excellence, in dress, manners, and customs . A solemn 
 
 appeal to the Governments of Europe in behalf of the Jewish 
 Nation . With a Word to Mr. Hobhouse, the Representa¬ 
 tive for Westminster . And a Hint to Mr. Elliston of 
 
 Drury-Lane Theatre. 
 
 Giovedi grasso, Shrove Thursday, was a 
 remarkable day at Venice, for the exercise of 
 many popular amusements. The most attrac¬ 
 tive was, « II volo dal Campanile di San Marco.” 
 It was performed in the following manner. An 
 immense cable was fastened to the top of the 
 steeple, which was let down the whole of its 
 length, until it reached the pavement. Both of 
 its extremities being made secure, a man, who 
 was paid for the occasion, after a small cord 
 had been fastened round one of his wrists and 
 another round one of his ancles, would slide 
 down from the topmost extremity to the ground, 
 
 VOL. I. Q 
 
VENICE. 
 
 226 
 
 bearing a small flag in his hand ; to the great 
 delight and astonishment of the numerous spec¬ 
 tators. To the “ Volo dal Campanile,” Captain 
 Manby is indebted for his contrivance for 
 saving the lives of shipwrecked mariners; only 
 he has added thereto a basket, or cradle, in 
 which a man is placed, and propelled forward, 
 like the Venetian flyer of the Giovedi grasso. 
 
 The moveable pyramids and Moresco broad¬ 
 sword amusements were performed by the 
 Niccolotti and the Castellani, two parties who 
 took their names from the parishes in which 
 they were born. The inhabitants of the said 
 parishes were always, once a-year, opposed to 
 one another in the performance of sundry 
 feats of strength, on two different platforms, 
 erected at a certain distance opposite each other. 
 At the success or failure of any of their evolu¬ 
 tions, violent applauses or hissings were vocife¬ 
 rated by the friends of one party, to the annoy¬ 
 ance of the other. 
 
 The amusements, or games, consisted in 
 forming pyramids of twenty or thirty men, piled 
 one upon another, beginning with three or four, 
 and increasing the number, according to the 
 figure intended to be exhibited; sometimes 
 beginning with the greater number, and dimi¬ 
 nishing in size, to a considerable height, until 
 
VENICE. 
 
 227 
 
 the whole terminated with a child, who would 
 climb from one man’s shoulder to another, 
 until he had reached the top. When this 
 amusement was over, another would commence. 
 It was called “ il giuoco Moresco,” and was a 
 sort of attack between the parties with the 
 broadsword. 
 
 These diversions for the lower orders gene¬ 
 rally took place while the patricians were rusti¬ 
 cating at their delicious villas, on the banks of 
 the Brenta or elsewhere, in all the luxury of 
 eastern splendour. 
 
 In imitation of the Romans, it was the uni¬ 
 form policy of the Venetians to keep alive a 
 party-spirit between their subjects, and to ply 
 them with amusements, that they might have 
 no leisure for reflection. But in latter times, 
 Venice has, in fact, possessed a numerous popu¬ 
 lation, but no canaglia ; and divided bodies are 
 ever the most easy to govern, and the surest to 
 be conquered. Subtraction is a favourite rule in 
 the arithmetic of politicians, and all govern¬ 
 ments are tolerably perfect in their practice of 
 it. The policy that unfortunately is so preva¬ 
 lent on the Continent, appears to be a close 
 imitation of the doctrines of the Florentine 
 Secretary, Machiavelli, who says, “ With respect 
 to the means of holding in subjection states 
 
 q 2 
 
VENICE. 
 
 228 
 
 once accustomed to be governed by their own 
 laws—destroy them, especially the nobles and 
 the men of power; as they can never forget 
 what they have been, and seldom or ever for¬ 
 give those who have been the cause of their 
 privations.” 
 
 Though Venice produces nothing, no city in 
 Europe is more abundantly or more luxuriously 
 supplied with the necessaries as well as the 
 delicacies of life. People often come to Venice 
 from the Terra Firma, to enjoy fruit in the 
 highest perfection. As it is brought thither by 
 water carriage, it is not liable to be softened or 
 bruised, and the beautiful bloom is thereby pre¬ 
 served as if it were still on the tree. 
 
 The Venetian poultry, too, is generally of 
 excellent flavour. The fish also, which come 
 from the sea to fatten themselves in the rich 
 lakes that surround the city, are larger and 
 better flavoured than in any other sea-port. 
 The oysters of the Arsenal were an article of 
 considerable profit to the persons engaged in 
 raising them, and were the largest and best- 
 tasted in theworld. 
 
 As I have touched on the subject of eatables, 
 I shall, for the instruction as well as consolation 
 of our English gourmands, who may be thinking 
 of paying a visit to Italy, here give them a 
 
VENICE. 
 
 229 
 
 slight foretaste of the delicacies for which its 
 principal towns and cities are most celebrated. 
 
 Piedmont is famous for producing the best 
 rice in the peninsula, and for its truffles, which 
 are dug out of the earth by dogs trained for the 
 occasion, and of a peculiar breed. 
 
 Milan is the only place for the delicious 
 mascaron, made of fresh cream in little round 
 pats, about the size of half a pound of butter. 
 The Stracchin cheese is of a square form ; it 
 weighs about six or eight pounds, and is made 
 entirely of rich cream. 
 
 Lodi and Orio are the only parts of Italy that 
 produce the real Parmasan, though it is made 
 in many other provinces. It takes its name 
 from Parma being at one time the principal 
 deposit for the wholesale consumption of it; 
 but not one of these famous cheeses was ever 
 made in that town. 
 
 At Bergamo are manufactured the best sugar¬ 
 plums, and what is called la mustarda, which 
 consists of a variety of rich fruits preserved in 
 jars, with a mixture of clarified sugar and mus¬ 
 tard. At the time of the Carnival it produces 
 a considerable profit to the dealers therein, as 
 it is sent all over Italy; as well as a paste made 
 of almonds and sugar, called mandolata. 
 
 Brescia is famous for a kind of very fat small 
 
 Q. 3 
 
230 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 bird, called gl’uccelli dei Ronchi, and for its 
 polenta, or Indian corn. Verona, Este, and 
 Monselice are distinguished for the finest fruits 
 of all kinds, and the salame col aglio, which are 
 large sausages stuffed with garlick. Vicenza is 
 unrivalled for its grapes and sweet wines, which 
 are of a flavour different from that of the wines 
 of all the other parts of Italy. 
 
 At Padua are made the famous osso callo 
 and fuccacie, which resemble the buns that are 
 cut to make rusks of, but infinitely superior, 
 and especially at Easter. Genoa formerly de¬ 
 rived considerable advantage from the sale of 
 its excellent zucca Candida, its pumkins, its pre¬ 
 served citrons, its large and small pastry of all 
 descriptions, and its candied sweetmeats, dried 
 mushrooms, and vegetables. 
 
 Parma and Modena arc celebrated for their 
 small hams, of a most delicious flavour. They 
 are cut into slices almost as thin as wafers, and 
 packed in boxes; and, together with their zam- 
 pini, a pig’s leg with the bone taken out and 
 stuffed with exquisite sausages, once formed a 
 considerable portion of a not inactive com¬ 
 merce, and were sent by the Ducal family, as 
 presents to the several Continental courts. 
 
 Bologna is the only place in Italy for what 
 are called the bandola investita, and for all 
 
VENICE. 
 
 231 
 
 kinds of sausages ; Florence for its perfumery, 
 and, like Lucca, for its oils and rosoglias of 
 herbs, which are exported to all parts of Europe; 
 Rome for its wild and water towls, its vege¬ 
 tables, and in particular for its brocoli; Naples 
 for its incomparable mustacciuli, its maccaroni, 
 and its cascia cavallo, a famous cheese used 
 therewith, when not cooked with sughilio, the 
 extract of stewed beef in wine, with all kinds 
 of spices and herbs. The ices of Naples are 
 superior to those of any other part of Italy. 
 
 The pi ate-glass manufactory on the island of 
 Murano, at the distance of about a mile from 
 Venice, is perhaps one of the finest in all 
 Europe ; though, like every thing else on the 
 Venetian territory, excepting despotism, it is 
 greatly on the decline. Certain secrets with 
 respect to glass-making were confined to the 
 Venetians. The substance that is to form the 
 mirror, of a certain size, is taken out of the 
 furnace by means of a machine with a wooden 
 handle, and the workmen keep turning it round 
 with the greatest velocity, until it has attained 
 the desired length ; when, with an immense 
 pair of scissors, they cut asunder the fiery sub¬ 
 stance, and instantly roll it on stone, where it 
 congeals, and becomes the most perfect of its 
 kind. The Venetians were also the first who in- 
 
 q 4 
 
232 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 vented the several kinds of glass beads, of various 
 colours and shapes ; and those which they now 
 manufacture, and which are worked into purses, 
 bags, necklaces, and other ornaments, are still 
 the best in all Europe. 
 
 Burrano was famous for the Venetian point 
 lace; from which place Louis the Fourteenth 
 seduced a number of the workmen to France, 
 where he established the first lace manufactory. 
 In the same manner, Charles the Fifth esta¬ 
 blished a similar manufactory at Brussels and 
 elsewhere. 
 
 Was not the very first vessel of war that 
 carried a cannon, of Venetian origin? Venice 
 was the pat ent of other maritime states ; and, to 
 such a pitch of perfection had she arrived, that 
 the dresses, the manners, and the customs of 
 her inhabitants were adopted by the rest of 
 Europe, long before the reign of Queen Eliza¬ 
 beth. A slight reference to the plays of the 
 immortal Shakespeare, will convince the reader, 
 that that great master of the passions and pro¬ 
 found judge of human nature, was accustomed 
 to consider the Venetians, as they were repre¬ 
 sented in the portraits of Titian and others, to 
 be models of elegance in dress ; the men wear¬ 
 ing their beards, and the women their brocades, 
 bracelets, &c. He repeatedly compliments the 
 
VENICE. 
 
 233 
 
 Venetians j and, in “Love’s Labour Lost,” 
 makes one of his characters exclaim 
 
 “ Ah, good old Mantuan! 
 
 I may speak of thee as the traveller doth of Venice ; 
 
 Venegia, Venegia, 
 
 Chi non te vide, ei non te pregia.” 
 
 that is, “O Venice, Venice, he who has never 
 seen thee, lias thee not in esteem. ” 
 
 The circumstance of the corps diplomatique 
 being interdicted from every kind of intercourse 
 with the patricians and the Government, ex¬ 
 cept on public occasions, in consequence of the 
 conspiracy against the Republic formed by the 
 Marquis of Bedma r, ambassador from the 
 court of France, in conjunction with the Duke 
 d’Ossuno and the Spanish governor of the 
 Milanese, suggested the story of Otway’s Venice 
 Preserved. 
 
 An amazing number of merchants of all na¬ 
 tions settled themselves at Venice, and were 
 tolerated in the enjoyment of their different 
 religions, and protected in the free exercise of 
 them. There was a quarter for the Germans, 
 and another for the Turks, who were not per¬ 
 mitted to be seen out of their habitations after 
 sunset. The number of libraries, printing- 
 offices, and of booksellers’ shops at Venice ex- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 2 34 
 
 ceeded that of any other city of Italy. The 
 communication, by means of canals, with most 
 of the large rivers of the Terra Firma, gave the 
 greatest facilities to every kind of commerce. 
 In short, no foreigner possessing genius and 
 industry could leave Venice but with regret. 
 For years after he had quitted that city, Cardinal 
 de Bernis was accustomed to speak of the spot, 
 and of its inhabitants, with the greatest warmth 
 of delight. 
 
 * When the Lombards and the Jews ceased to 
 have the advantage of the Venetian navigation, 
 they emigrated, with their immense riches, to 
 England ; and, to the rich bankers who laid out 
 their vast capitals in building, is London in¬ 
 debted for the well known street which has 
 ever since born their name. 
 
 The Jews who remained at Venice set about 
 repairing their losses, bv becoming money¬ 
 lenders to all the sovereigns of Europe ; and, 
 from the enormous profits which they derived 
 from the interest they exacted, were they 
 enabled to build the Ghetto, a place of residence 
 exclusively appropriated for the Israelitish tribe, 
 situate near the canal Regio ; and the gates of 
 which, after sunset, were closed, and not a 
 soul was suffered to enter or go out. In this 
 part of the city they were compelled to 
 
V ENIC E. 
 
 335 
 
 reside, until the revolution took place in 1796. 
 It formed a little town of itself, and as the 
 Venetian nobility declined, commerce became 
 almost entirely confined to that quarter. The 
 Lombards were, to the full, as usuriously in¬ 
 clined as the sons of Israel were. The rate of 
 interest to be taken on their loans and money 
 transactions was regulated by the tribunal of 
 the Pioveggi. 
 
 Let me here digress for a moment, and offer 
 a word or two in behalf of the much vilified 
 and much despised Jewish nation. In an age 
 like the present, teeming with benevolent pro¬ 
 jects of all descriptions, and overflowing with 
 the milk and honey of universal philanthropy, 
 surely it behoves the several governments of 
 the civilized world to take the condition of 
 this most remarkable people into their serious 
 consideration, and, together with the other re¬ 
 strictions imposed on them, to do away with the 
 harsh, as well as impolitic law which prevents 
 a Hebrew from possessing landed property, by 
 which he becomes of course exempted from 
 certain contributions towards the expenses of 
 the state, paid by all other classes of his Ma¬ 
 jesty’s subjects. Many of these Jews, as we 
 all know, are excellent members of society, and 
 deserve to be set free from those disgraceful 
 
236 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 shackles, which were thought neccessary in the 
 early ages of Christianity. 
 
 I have been credibly informed, that all the 
 tribes feel the privations to which they are sub¬ 
 jected most poignantly. Ought we then to be 
 surprised, if we sometimes find them immo¬ 
 lating on the altar of avarice, those miserable 
 Christians who resort to them for loans in the 
 hour of distress, and exclaiming, in the lan¬ 
 guage of Shylock, with feelings partaking less 
 of remorse, than of fell revenge ? 
 
 “ I am a Jew: and, hath not a Jew eyes ? hath not a Jew 
 hands? organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? 
 fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject 
 to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed 
 and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian 
 is ? If you prick us, do we not bleed ? if you tickle us, do 
 we not laugh ? if you poison us, do we not die ? and if you 
 wrong us, shall we not revenge ? If we are like you in the 
 rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Chris¬ 
 tian, what is his humility ? revenge : If a Christian wrong a 
 Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example ? 
 why, revenge. The villainy you teach me, I will execute; 
 and it shall go hard, but I will better the instruction.” 
 
 Satisfied I am, that until a complete and 
 entire amalgamation of the two parties shall 
 have been effected, the mutual interest of 
 Christian and Jew will not have been placed 
 on its proper basis. 
 
VENICE. 
 
 237 
 
 Formerly, the kings of England were accus¬ 
 tomed to look upon the descendants of Abra¬ 
 ham as their property; indeed, they were 
 expressly called the king’s “ chattels.” So 
 strong did the popular tide run against them, 
 that in the year 1348, when a fatal endemic 
 distemper raged in a great portion of Europe, 
 it was given out that they had poisoned the 
 springs and wells : in consequence of which, a 
 million and a half of them were cruelly mas¬ 
 sacred. Again, in the year 1492, half a million 
 of them were driven out of Spain, and one hun¬ 
 dred and fifty thousand out of Portugal. In 
 short, they were every where persecuted, and 
 most rigorously treated. 
 
 In Spain, many of them were actually burnt 
 alive, and their sufferings became a source of 
 amusement to the people. The satirical Doctor 
 Swift, in his celebrated Drapier’s Letters, tells 
 a story of a Jew at Madrid, who being con¬ 
 demned to the fire on account of his religion, 
 a crowd of school-boys following him to the 
 stake, and apprehending they might lose their 
 sport if he should happen to recant, would, 
 from time to time, clap him on the back, and 
 cry, “ Sta Jimie, Moyse that is—“ Moses, 
 continue stedfast.” 
 
238 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 If my memory does not fail me, Mr. Hob- 
 house, one of the representatives for West¬ 
 minster, the most enlightened city in the empire, 
 signified, some time ago, his determination to 
 bring the case of this oppressed people fairly 
 before the British Parliament. Most earnestly 
 do I hope that this active senator will persevere 
 in his intention ; and happy, thrice happy shall 
 I be, if the present intimation should have a 
 tendency, however trifling, to spur him on to 
 a perseverance in his praiseworthy design. His 
 unwearied endeavours to procure for us the 
 light of heaven, untaxed, are duly appreciated 
 by his countrymen ; and I will add, by his coun¬ 
 trywomen also: and Mr. Hobhouse may rest 
 assured, that an endeavour to dispel the mental 
 darkness which has been engendered by that 
 “ sufferance,” which, for so many ages, has 
 been “the badge of all the tribe,” will be con¬ 
 sidered no less laudable. 
 
 That he will be seconded in his efforts by all 
 those members who uniformly advocate the 
 cause of free discussion and of universal tolera¬ 
 tion, I cannot, for one moment, doubt. Guess¬ 
 ing from their patronymics, several of our sena¬ 
 tors cannot be far removed in blood from the 
 oppressed race : to suppose, therefore, that they 
 would not joyfully step forward, and afford the 
 
VENICE. 
 
 239 
 
 representative for Westminster their cordial 
 support, would be to suppose them possessed 
 by the marble-hearted fiend, Ingratitude; which, 
 when it shows itself in a child, has been pro¬ 
 nounced “ more hideous than the sea-monster.” 
 
 But, while the Senate shall be thus actively 
 occupied in the cause of the sons of Israel, 
 ought not the Stage to step forward, and lend 
 its powerful aid towards the accomplishment of 
 the alta impresa? To this end, I beg leave, 
 strenuously to recommend to Mr. Elliston, the 
 spirited lessee of Drury Lane Theatre, a revival 
 of thelate Mr. Cumberland’sadmirablecomedyof 
 “ The Jew.” The play was eminently successful, 
 at a time by no means so favourable for the incul¬ 
 cation of the principles I am laying down as the 
 present. In the hands of that chastest of all 
 performers, Mr. Dowton, Sheva would find as 
 able a representative as Doctor Cantwell has 
 done. Liston, too —the laugh-inspiring Liston 
 —in the part of Jabal, the Jew’s servant, would 
 delight the town not less than he has done in 
 Mawworm. To heighten the attraction, songs, 
 according to the custom of the day, might be 
 introduced with considerable effect. The part 
 of Frederick might be allotted to Braham ; 
 while Eliza lladcliffe would find an interesting 
 representative in the sweet warbler Stephens. 
 
240 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Thus, instead of receiving our impressions of 
 the whole tribe, from “ the Jew whicli Shake¬ 
 speare drew,”—brutal, vindictive, uncharitable, 
 extortionate, his bags running over with the 
 spoils of usury, and his veins glutted with the 
 blood of prodigals, gamesters, and unfortunate 
 merchants, we should constantly have before our 
 eyes, the generous Hebrew of Cumberland,— 
 the widow’s friend, the orphan’s father, the 
 poor man’s protector, and the universal philan¬ 
 thropist; who “ neither buries his riches in a 
 synagogue or any other pile, nor wastes it upon 
 vanity or public works; but who leaves it to 
 a charitable heir, and builds his hospital in 
 the human heart.” Thus would the stray sheep 
 of the scattered flock of Abraham at length 
 have fair play ; and, that such an appeal to the 
 kind feelings, the good sense, and the strict 
 justice of Englishmen, would be made in vain, 
 is, I think, impossible— 
 
 “ In hearts like theirs’, there will be found a place, 
 
 For ev’ry victim of unjust disgrace.” 
 
( 241 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 State of Commerce and Manufactures during the Republic . 
 
 The Patricians indirectly engaged therein . Venetian 
 
 Festivals . Ceremony of the Marriage of the Doge with 
 
 the Adriatic . The Bucentoro . The Villegiatura . 
 
 Mode of Living of the Venetian Ladies of the Haut-ton 
 
 . Madame Benzona . Albrizzi Teutocchi . Cecilia 
 
 Tron . Eugenia Tron . Chiaretta Contarini . Gius- 
 
 tina Venier Micheli. 
 
 Many of the noble Venetians were accus¬ 
 tomed to advance money for carrying on the 
 commerce of the Republic, and were indirectly 
 connected with the merchants of the Terra Firma. 
 At Verona, Padua, and Vicenza, there were 
 considerable manufactories of silks, gauzes, 
 ribbons, artificial flowers, and whalebone : there 
 were also cloth manufactures at Schio, and 
 other places in the territories of the Republic. 
 At Venice, too, the same manufactures were 
 carried on, but in still greater variety ; such as 
 rich damasks, brocades, gold and silver tissues, 
 and velvets. The gold chains of Venice, with 
 its gold lace and trimmings, were the admiration 
 of all Europe. The city was also celebrated 
 
 VOL. i. 
 
 K 
 
242 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 for its wax, and cream of tartar ; for its glass 
 and pearl beads ; for its silk stockings and lace; 
 and particularly for its scarlet cloth and snuffs. 
 The triacca manufactured at Venice, is used as 
 a general medicine; it is composed of various 
 drugs, and is considered to be an antidote 
 against the sting of venomous reptiles. Many 
 of the above articles were at one time a source 
 of considerable profit to the ambassadors, con¬ 
 suls, and other agents of the Republic, at the 
 several foreign courts, on account of their great 
 superiority over those of other nations. 
 
 Its numerous festivals rendered Venice one 
 of the most interesting cities in the universe. 
 Amongst others, there were those of Santa 
 Marta, San llocco, il Redentore, la Saluta, San 
 Marco, Corpus Domine, and the Assenzione; 
 on the latter of which days the Doge used to go 
 to Lido, a small island two miles from Venice, 
 near the entrance of the Adriatic, for the pur¬ 
 pose of espousing that sea, in the Bucentoro, a 
 vessel somewhat resembling the ancient Greek 
 and Roman gallies. It was richly carved, and 
 covered with fine gold in basso-relievo, lined 
 with the richest crimson silk velvet, trimmed 
 with gold fringe and tassels, and furnished in 
 the most elegant and costly manner, with beau¬ 
 tiful Venetian mirrors, crystal cut ornaments, 
 
VENICE. 
 
 243 
 
 large pier glass windows, with Venetian blinds 
 and crimson silk curtains. It used to be towed 
 out by a number of the barcajuoli, richly dres¬ 
 sed in the ancient Venetian costume, with caps 
 and sashes of different colours, all bearing the 
 Doge’s livery. The Doge was habited in his 
 ducal robes, his coronet, and the other insignia 
 of his high office. The whole body of the 
 senators, with their wives and families, magni¬ 
 ficently attired, joined the procession in gon¬ 
 dolas, together with all the foreign ministers, and 
 often a hundred thousand persons, coming not 
 only from the Terra Firma, but from the extre¬ 
 mity of Italy, and even of Europe ; so that the 
 water, from the ducal palace of the Piazzetta to 
 Lido, was actually covered with boats, filled 
 with youth and beauty in all their most seduc¬ 
 tive shapes and appearances, forming an entire 
 carpet of boats of all descriptions; besides 
 peottis, in the shape of ancient temples and tri¬ 
 umphal cars, representing the courts of Jupiter, 
 Venus, Mars, Bacchus, Apollo, together with 
 Neptune, and the rest of the marine deities; so 
 that it was scarcely possible to discover a foot 
 of water. 
 
 The ceremony was called the marriage of the 
 sea. The Doge, on his arrival at the mouth of 
 the harbour, came on deck, and being suiv 
 
 n 2 
 
244 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 rounded by the senate, he took from his finger 
 & gold ring, and throwing it into the sea, he 
 pronounced these words, “ Disponsamus te, 
 Mare! in signum veri perpetuique dominii 
 that is, “ We espouse thee, O sea ! in token of 
 real and perpetual dominion.” 
 
 The Doge and senate then returned in the 
 same order to the ducal palace, where a sump¬ 
 tuous banquet was prepared, consisting of all 
 the delicacies of the season ; and at the close 
 of which each senator was presented with a large 
 tray, or basket, filled with the choicest fruits 
 and sweetmeats, to take home to his family. 
 This was indeed a day of festivity and triumph 
 for the Venetians, and turned out highly lucra¬ 
 tive to all classes of the inhabitants. 
 
 The famous ducal barge of which I have 
 spoken, the Bucentoro, which, as its name im¬ 
 plies, was capable of containing two hundred 
 persons, was destroyed by the French for the 
 sake of its gold, and chopped in pieces, together 
 with four-and-twenty ships of war in the arse¬ 
 nal. Nay, the very arsenal itself was nearly 
 demolished by those modern liberators. It w r as 
 wittily observed by one of the barcajuoli to his 
 comrades, “ I Francese non sono tutti ladri, 
 ma Buona-parte !” The French also destroyed 
 the famous beds of oysters which were formerly 
 
VENICE. 
 
 245 
 
 in the arsenal, and which were esteemed the 
 largest and finest flavoured in Europe. 
 
 After the festivities of the Ascension the 
 Venetians commenced their villegiatura, or rural 
 diversions, on both sides of the banks of the 
 Brenta ; which, for the space of one-and-twenty 
 miles, as far as Padua, are ornamented with 
 numerous beautiful palaces, built by Palladio 
 and Sansovino, and the fronts of many of which 
 were painted by Paul Veronese. These palaces 
 are the villas of the patricians and of the rich 
 merchants. 
 
 The country along the ~Brenta is really a 
 terrestrial paradise. In my opinion, there is no 
 spot of the globe that can be placed in compa¬ 
 rison with it. The meadows and gardens all 
 around are highly cultivated and fertile, and 
 terminate most agreeably. What is very extra¬ 
 ordinary, no two of the palaces are alike. Most * 
 of them have their fronts looking towards the 
 river. I did not, however, recognize in the 
 Brenta, so readily as Mr. Addison seems to have 
 done, the Timavus— 
 
 “ Unde per ora novem vasto cum murmure montis, 
 
 It mare proruptum, et pelago premit arva sonanti 
 
 though Virgil adds, 
 
 “ Hie tamen ille urbem Patavi sedesque locavit 
 Teucrorum." 
 
 R 3 
 
246 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 The mode of living during the villegiatura, 
 was exactly the same as at Venice. The ladies 
 never rose till the middle of the day. After 
 breakfast they put on their morning dress, and 
 either walked or rode out: they would then 
 come home, and after taking the bath, dress for 
 dinner; at five they would take coffee, sleep 
 till seven or eight, prepare for the evening par¬ 
 ties, which continued till about midnight, and 
 then go to the casinos to play at cards, or for 
 the sake of the conversazione ; and at about 
 two or three in the morning, and sometimes 
 later, they would return home to rest. 
 
 The opera at Venice did not commence till 
 between nine and ten, and was seldom over 
 before two or three in the morning ; but no lady 
 of rank would even then think of going home, 
 before she had taken a few hands at the casino. 
 On some mornings they would visit the Erberia, 
 to see the delightful fruits and flowers brought 
 to the market from the Terra Firma, and then 
 they would go home to bed. 
 
 The Benzona, the Albrizzi Teutocchi, the 
 Giustina Micheli, the Tron, the Cavaliera Con- 
 tarini, the Labbia, the Pesaro, and in short all 
 the ladies of the haut-ton, would not, when 
 young, have thought of shewing themselves in 
 society before midnight. But now, alas! they 
 
VENICE. 
 
 ‘247 
 
 are all the worse for the wear ; and though they 
 still adhere to the old proverb, that “ women 
 and linen look to the greatest advantage by 
 candle-light,” and though tight lacing and long 
 waisted stays will go a good way towards hiding 
 much superabundant substance, the ill-natured 
 old gentleman with his scythe, however much 
 the diurnal supply of blooming roses and of 
 fresh lilies may put new faces on old bodies, is 
 constantly holding up his hour-glass, and intimat¬ 
 ing that he has little or no respect for a figure 
 of 6 with an 0 after it. 
 
 It may, however, be laid down as a maxim, 
 that women are as old as they look, and men 
 as old as they feel. Old women, like old gui¬ 
 neas, are worth their weight in gold. Madame 
 Tron was once very much offended with a gen¬ 
 tleman who asked her how old she was ? “ I 
 
 tjij- i\7 i Jftrz* (UUt& < -. Jn fit l.tv! J / ' CCAJ '' 
 
 never give myself the trouble,” replied she, “ to 
 think about my enemies.”—“ Well,” said the 
 gentleman, “ we were children together, and I 
 am seventy.”—“ What’s that to me ?” rejoined 
 Madame Tron.—“ Yes, but you have a daugh¬ 
 ter who is between forty and fifty.”—“ And 
 pray, Mr. Busybody, what has the age of my 
 daughter to do with mine ? Thank God,” said 
 she, “ the Libro d’Oro is destroyed,” (which 
 was the register of the ages of all the patri- 
 
 r 4 
 
248 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 cians); “ at least we have gained that by the 
 revolution; there is no more prying into the 
 secret of a woman’s age, Mr. Inquisitive !” 
 
 The palace of Madame Benzona, on the 
 grand canal, near San Benedetto, together with 
 the distinguished beauty and the great merits 
 of this Venetian matron, though so often sung 
 and so universally admired, ought not to be 
 passed over in silence, in a work professing to 
 contain anecdotes of a city, in which, from her 
 amiable and polished manners, she has shone 
 forth so pre-eminently. 
 
 The mansion of this celebrated lady, though 
 she is now in very slender circumstances, con¬ 
 tinues to be visited by the natives, as well as by 
 foreigners of the first distinction. Her name 
 stands high on the annals of gallantry, both for 
 her extraordinary condescension, and for her 
 easy and indiscriminate compliance, from the 
 prince down to the barcajuolo. The prop of 
 her house is said to be the Cavalier Giuseppe 
 Trevis, a rich Jew merchant. Being of a 
 very tolerant disposition, persons of all religions 
 as well as nations, are received by her on terms ^ 
 of equal hospitality and good breeding. Her 
 house is also visited by Pindemonte Lamberti, 
 the translator of Homer, and by other men of 
 genius ; though she has recently been excluded 
 
VENICE. 
 
 m 
 
 the society of the court converzatione , in con¬ 
 sequence of German etiquette, whereby blood 
 only constitutes merit, and merit without blood 
 is considered, like a race-horse, as having no 
 merit at all. 
 
 Madame Abrizzi Tuetocchi was first married 
 to the poor Bernabotti Marini. Finding it more 
 convenient, after having had a son by her rich 
 cavalier servante, to become the wife of Al- 
 brizzi, the father of this lady, in furtherance of 
 her views (though she had been married nearly 
 twenty years, and had had a son by her hus¬ 
 band, who is a father of a family), came forward 
 to declare that he had violated his daughter’s 
 inclinations ; by which declaration alone a ca¬ 
 tholic marriage can be dissolved. The father 
 was nearly eighty years of age when his scru¬ 
 ples of conscience induced him to be the osten¬ 
 sible person thus to administer to his daughter’s 
 good fortune. The husband Marini, the hus¬ 
 band Albrizzi, the two sons, and the good lady, 
 all live together in a state of the most profound 
 miscellaneous harmony. She is a Greek ; is 
 ambitious in her friendships ; a profound calcu¬ 
 lator ; and in every thing an extraordinary 
 woman. 
 
 Zorzetto Ricchi, the husband of the well- 
 known Cecilia Tron, is a native of Corfu. He 
 
250 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 is an able politician ; has been an advocate for 
 democracy as well as for imperialism; and would 
 become the meanest slave of Ali Pacha, for the 
 sake of promotion and personal interest. No 
 man sympathizes more in the successes of the 
 weather-cock politicians of the day than Zorzetto 
 does: for he runs no risk, and is sure to find 
 that which he has not lost! Whenever he 
 happens to be pushed for the needful, the Greek 
 artfully invents some story of illness, or of hair¬ 
 breadth scapes from jeopardy, to soften the 
 feelings of his better half. Promises of certain 
 domestic duties towards her, and better beha¬ 
 viour for the future, generally end in softening 
 the heart of the old lady. He does not live 
 with her, but occupies the magnificent Palazzo- 
 Tron, on the grand canal. The lady lives in 
 private lodgings at Padua, where she is visited 
 by her husband as often as his pecuniary neces¬ 
 sities call him thither. 
 
 Eugenia Tron, the wife of the Bernabotti 
 Giovanni Veronese, better known by the nick¬ 
 name of bocca storta, crook-mouthed, is a lady 
 of some vivacity in repartee. Though disgust¬ 
 ingly ugly in the face, she possesses a remark¬ 
 ably fine figure. Being at a masked ball during 
 carnival time, she was one night much followed, 
 and particularly by a gentleman who was then 
 
VENICE. 
 
 251 
 
 paying his addresses to the beautiful Cavaliera 
 Donado, known by the name of “ la bella 
 Veneziana.” Having discovered whom he was 
 following, she cried out to him, “ Lasciatela, e 
 la bocca storta “ leave her, it is the crook¬ 
 mouthed lady.” Hearing this, Eugenia Tron 
 instantly replied, “ e vero che son brutta di viso 
 ma egli sa che tengo un paradiso.” And most 
 assuredly she must have had some very powerful 
 hidden charms; for some of the handsomest 
 young men in all Venice paid their assiduous 
 court to her. Ludovico Priuli, M. A. Giustin- 
 gan, Tommassini, and many other elegant and 
 fashionable men of rank, were constantly amongst 
 the number of her admirers. She possessed a 
 liberal, a generous, and a noble soul: even 
 when reduced in her circumstances, she pre¬ 
 ferred living in a miserably obscure retirement, 
 rather than become chargeable to her friends 
 and former admirers. She has since retired to 
 Corfu, where she possesses a baronia. 
 
 Chiaretta Contarini was a perfect beauty, but 
 a thorough-paced dunce. Though illiterate to 
 a degree, she had a furious craving after the 
 treasures of science. When at the public as¬ 
 semblies, or at the coffee-shops, she would call 
 for “ un bicchier d’acqua corrotta,” which means 
 
252 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 a glass of water in mourning; instead of “ un 
 bicchier d’acqua corretta,” a glass of water cor¬ 
 rected, by having a little aniseed put into it ; 
 which is a common beverage at Venice, simple 
 water being in that country considered very 
 unwholesome. She would also say she was 
 going to the “ vigillatura,” instead of “ ville- 
 giatura ,” and make a thousand blunders of the 
 same kind. On one of her favourites, a French 
 officer, being taken ill, she asked him to let her 
 feel his pulse; but, unfortunately, instead of 
 saying “ laissez moi tater votre pouls,” she said, 
 “ laissez moi tater votre qu —.” The officer said, 
 it was not the custom in France, and politely 
 begged to decline the proffered civility. Her 
 little casino resembled a large sea-port town, 
 and was open to bales of all descriptions, on 
 payment of the transit duties. In the list of 
 her numerous admirers, some of them men of 
 talent, were Bianchi, and Carlo Pino, a Milanese, 
 and brother of the general of that name. He 
 was appointed by the Austrian Government at 
 Venice, to be one of the justices; as if there 
 were not among the Venetians men capable of 
 filling the situation ! Family intrigue procured 
 him the place, and petticoat interest supported 
 it. His brother, the general, being of the French 
 
VENICE. 
 
 253 
 
 party, each of them took different sides, resolved 
 to adhere to the one which should be the most 
 successful. 
 
 Both Bianchi and Carlo Pino lived with 
 Chiaretta in the same house. No ridiculous 
 jealousies interrupted the harmony which sub¬ 
 sisted between the lawyer and the justice ; pro¬ 
 vided they shared in the spoils, they cared not 
 “ if the general camp, pioneers and all, had 
 tasted her sweet body.” They were too liberal- 
 minded to think of monopolizing so much beauty 
 and virtue ; and therefore left the lady to in¬ 
 crease an influence, which, in the end, turned 
 out to the profit of the trio. 
 
 Chiaretta Contarini had three husbands, all 
 living at the same time. The first was Dofiln, 
 who, being poor, was either expelled or bought 
 off by Grimani, a younger son of the family of 
 that name. He was succeeded by the potent 
 Contarini; whom, however, Chiaretta survived, 
 and she now resides at Milan. Being by nature 
 yielding, liberal of her favours, and tolerant in 
 her principles, men of all nations and religions 
 are received by her with open arms. No woman 
 was ever more calculated to shine in a revolution 
 than Chiaretta Contarini. She was a Turk with 
 the Musselmen, a Jewess with the sons of Israel, 
 a Protestant with the Reformists, and a Catholic 
 
254 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 from hypocrisy, convenience, and interest. She 
 strived hard to get hold of some rich Jew of 
 the Ghetto, and endeavoured to rival Marina 
 Benzona in the good graces of the Cavalier 
 Trevis ; but the fidelity of the Israelite remained 
 unshaken. 
 
 As soon as the above-mentioned Carlo Pino 
 found the power of Buonaparte in Italy firmly 
 established, he quitted the Austrian service at 
 Venice, and repaired to his native home, to live 
 with his long neglected wife and family. His 
 brother, the general, being the war-minister, 
 soon got him employed at Milan; but having 
 taken French leave of Chiaretta, and having 
 given her, in an unguarded moment, a personal 
 security of some magnitude, she soon followed 
 him to enforce the payment of it. Not being 
 able to comply therewith, and Chiaretta having, 
 besides her pension of two livres a-day, collected 
 together a small annuity, he persuaded her to 
 take up her abode at Milan ; where, though 
 advanced in years, she still continues to receive 
 •company ; and where her conversation continues 
 to be the same strange melange of blunder, wit, 
 and detraction, that it was wont to be in her 
 youthful days. 
 
 Madame Giustina Venier, the wife of Mark 
 Anthony Micheli, is a lady who has, with the 
 
VENICE. 
 
 255 
 
 assistance of her English friends, translated 
 some of Shakespeare’s plays. She has also 
 lately written a little book, called “ Feste Vene- 
 ziane,” in the composition of which she has 
 resorted too much to her inventive faculties, 
 and has trusted more to the brilliancy of her 
 imagination than to the truth of history. She 
 is a gay and lovely dame, and was, for a long 
 time, the chere amie of an English gentleman of 
 the name of Parr. She was formerly a very 
 interesting little figure, and had a most engaging 
 countenance; but so negligent was she of her 
 person, and so filthy in her dress, that she 
 was more fitted to be the companion of Diogenes 
 than of a well-bred Englishman. To her unpar¬ 
 donable neglect in these matters was this lively 
 little creature indebted for the loss of her 
 paramour; who parted with her for one who 
 was as ugly as sin, and who had no earthly 
 virtue but the one in which his former Dulcinea 
 was so deficient. This circumstance, added to 
 the loss of hearing, have so changed her former 
 character, that most of her intimate friends and 
 acquaintances have forsaken her; and, in con¬ 
 sequence thereof, she has followed the wise 
 conduct of many a female, who, finding herself 
 neglected by her lovers, returns to the embraces 
 of her husband. From the very habit of attach- 
 
256 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 ment, some of these southern ladies, when they 
 can find no one to love or be loved by, turn 
 religious bigots, and, for the mere want of 
 earthly objects of enjoyment, transfer their affec¬ 
 tions to God and the Church, make a merit of 
 necessity, and die with the reputation of being 
 Saints! To such elderly dames may be applied 
 what Pope says of Narcissa:— 
 
 “ A very heathen in the carnal part, 
 
 Yet still a sad, good Christian at her heart.” 
 
 Marina Benzona was the only Venetian lady 
 who had the honour of being visited by the late 
 Queen Caroline of England ; to whom, and to 
 her suite, Marina gave an evening’s entertain¬ 
 ment. She is now married to her long attached 
 cavalier servante, Giuseppe Rangoni, created 
 by Buonaparte a knight of the Corona di Ferro 
 and Legion d’Onore. He is a gentleman of 
 merit and talent, and was ami de la maison, 
 during the life-time of the husband. 
 
( 257 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Venice once the Seat of Music . Pacchierotti . Marchesi 
 
 . Hints for the Preservation of the Voice . RubineUi 
 
 . Madame Mara . Conduct of the Proprietors of the 
 
 Fenice towards a certain “Great Lady in the Little Par¬ 
 lour." . Anecdotes (f Mrs. Billington. 
 
 Venice was, at one time, the seat of music, 
 and had established her conservatoires long - be¬ 
 fore any other country had done so. The Men- 
 dicanti, and the Zitelle, and the Ospidaletto, 
 were as famous for vocal as for instrumental 
 performers. Their masters were the celebrated 
 Bertoni, Bianchi, and Mayer; and, in the Lent 
 season, the oratorios were as well executed and 
 as numerously attended, as those of any other 
 city in Europe. 
 
 None of the natives of Italy have a more 
 refined musical taste than the Venetians. Pac¬ 
 chierotti, with all his defects, was enchanting, 
 wdienever he happened to sing in tune, as he 
 always addressed himself to the heart; while 
 Marchesi, with ten times his ability and natural 
 gifts, often disgusted, in consequence of his 
 
 VOL. i. 
 
 s 
 
274 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 deviations from that nature, the want of which 
 Pacchierotti contrived to supply, by a re¬ 
 finement of art, which no other singer, male 
 or female, has hitherto been able to attain. 
 
 His habit of singing below pitch did not 
 arise from want of ear, or of musical science, 
 but from excessive sensibility, whereby his me¬ 
 taphysical powers often got the better of his 
 physical—a circumstance which is rarely or 
 never the case with the musical professors of 
 the north, who, in general, sing in too sharp a 
 key, from their want of ear as well as of feeling. 
 It is certainly most desirable to be perfectly in 
 tune ; but the singing in too flat a key depends 
 on numerous physical causes, which produce 
 the effect of imperfect intonation, and proceeds 
 not uncommonly from weakness of the lungs or 
 chest. In short, the human voice is of so deli¬ 
 cate a nature, that every trifling thing that mili¬ 
 tates against the health is prejudicial to it. It 
 is the height of folly in singers to fancy that the 
 use of one particular liquid can be more ser¬ 
 viceable than the use of another. Nothing on 
 earth will preserve the voice; though the abuse 
 of any thing may tend greatly to destroy it. A 
 regular course of diet, accompanied with mode¬ 
 rate exercise, is all that is required. It is, how¬ 
 ever, what few persons who have attained any 
 
VENICE. 
 
 275 
 
 celebrity in that elegant and most fascinating 
 science, sufficiently attend to. 
 
 It seems, indeed, as if nature had bestowed 
 this valuable gift on the most abject of her 
 creatures. The moment those miserable beings, 
 who may be said to belong to neither gender, 
 and whom I know not under what description 
 of animals to classify—the moment they are 
 pronounced duly qualified, they are taught mu¬ 
 sic, though ignorant of every other social accom¬ 
 plishment. In that science they become pro¬ 
 ficients ; but, in every thing else these caslrati 
 gentlemen are little better than brutes. It is, 
 however, a well attested fact, that Mrs. Conway, 
 the Princess Albani, Annetta Brignole, Chia- 
 retta Contarini, the Grassini, and many other 
 females, were prodigiously attached to Mar- 
 chesi. The crime, however, carries its own 
 punishment along with it! 
 
 Deprived, in early life, of the advantages of 
 a liberal education, the animals of which I 
 have been speaking, the moment good fortune 
 calls them into public notice, puffed up by 
 the applauses lavished on their superficial 
 capacities, are found deficient of those prin¬ 
 ciples and those virtues, by which every other 
 class of human beings is distinguished. There 
 is, however, no rule without an exception. Some 
 
 t 2 
 
260 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 few ot them have been found who were capable 
 of reading their parts; especially the children 
 of professional parents, who had taught them at 
 least the science of music, whereby they have 
 been enabled to secure to themselves a com¬ 
 fortable subsistence in their old age. 
 
 Pacchierotti was one of the best educated 
 singers in all Italy, and had associated in early 
 life with men of letters. Rubinelli had good 
 natural abilities, and was very grateful to the 
 English, for the encouragement he met with 
 while in this country. Aprilli was quite the 
 gentleman in public society, except when he 
 spoke on music, and thereby instantly dis¬ 
 covered himself to be of the neuter gender. 
 Crescentini, who was a close imitator of Pac¬ 
 chierotti, was also an excellent musico. Sene- 
 sino and Damiani, who ranked amongst the 
 second class of these beings, always sang in 
 tune, and with infinitely more judgment than 
 Marchesi; who, for the sake of a roulade , would 
 sacrifice the finest poetical sentiment of the 
 great Metastasio. Crescentini is also said to 
 have been very liberal. He made the Grassini 
 a present of a valuable diamond ring, when she 
 sang with him at Venice, in the opera of the 
 Orazii and Curiazzii; and it is reported that it 
 was in consequence of some such weighty rea- 
 
V E NICE. 
 
 261 
 
 son, that she was induced to interest herself 
 with Napoleon, to give him the order of the 
 Iron Cross. 
 
 In one style of singing Madame Mara, and 
 in another Mrs. Billington, not only excelled 
 all who had gone before them, but every one of 
 their contemporaries, as well as every one who 
 has come after them. As our English favourite, 
 poor Mrs. Bland, once justly observed, “they 
 are all mere school-girls to them.” 
 
 Being one night a^ Mr. Bochsa’s oratorios, 
 and hearing one of the present race of singers 
 execute some of her favourite songs, Madame 
 Mara was asked by a friend who was sitting 
 with her in the same box, what she thought of 
 her? “ She dances a tolerably good fandango,” 
 was her answer; and it was, I think, as severe 
 a slap at the judgment of the audience, and 
 at the mediocrity of the singer, as can be well 
 conceived. 
 
 There is a certain Italian female, possessing, un¬ 
 doubtedly, some pretensions to natural abilities, 
 who had the good fortune to come to England 
 when the two great singers I have just men¬ 
 tioned, were on the decline, and when the war 
 left her field-marshal of the musical forces. The 
 French say, that “ Madame bat les ceufs, et 
 Monsieur son epoux fait Pomelette:” and this is 
 
 s 3 
 
278 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 certainly true; for no pastry-cook ever made more 
 puffs, or paid more for newspaper panegyrics 
 than this “ great lady in the little parlour” has 
 done. When last in Italy, she used to make a 
 boast, that his present Majesty, when Prince 
 Regent, would take her under his arm, and 
 conduct her to the tea-parties of his mother, 
 the late Queen Charlotte, and those of his 
 sisters, the Princesses. The royal family of 
 Bavaria were not, however, quite so conde¬ 
 scending to this companion of English royalty; 
 for they gave directions that the lady, bedizened 
 with diamonds, as well as her husband, Signor 
 Bragone, should be turned out of a box, which, 
 in her presumption, she had taken possession of, 
 a little too near to the one occupied by the royal 
 family. For this mortification of her vanity 
 she has only herself to blame ; since, both the 
 King and Queen of Bavaria are distinguished 
 for their affability and kindness towards all 
 professional persons—provided those persons 
 keep their proper places. 
 
 This singer lost an engagement at the theatre 
 of the Fenice at Venice for the preseqt Carnival, 
 in consequence of a trifling mistake which her 
 French husband made in his calculations. Fan¬ 
 cying that if his spouse was engaged to sing at 
 Venice, all the post horses on the high-roads 
 
VENICE. 
 
 279 
 
 leading to that city would be in a state of re¬ 
 quisition, for the purpose of conveying the 
 different sovereigns of Europe, and the treasures 
 that would be expended at the theatre on the 
 occasion, modestly proposed to the managers, 
 that they should share the same with his wife, 
 half and half. The question was put to the 
 vote ; when, out of the fifty proprietors of the 
 theatre at Venice, eight-and-forty black-balled 
 the Frenchman’s impudent proposition—there¬ 
 by inflicting a just punishment on inordinate 
 presumption ! 
 
 I have too great a reverence for the works of 
 the Supreme Being not to esteem merit, in 
 whatever shape it presents itself; but I must 
 say, that I think that that merit loses much of 
 its charm, when it is found united to vanity 
 and avarice. 
 
 Justice, however, compels me to declare, that 
 this singer, like some of our own admired ac¬ 
 tresses, is untainted in her private character. But, 
 the pride of some of the musical foreigners, who 
 pay their visits to John Bull, ought to be hum¬ 
 bled ; and especially the pride of this lady, 
 whose star has certainly shone more propi¬ 
 tiously in this our northern climate, than it ever 
 did in her own, or in any other country. 
 
 t 4 
 
264 
 
 V E XI C E. 
 
 How different in disposition, and, alas, in con¬ 
 duct, was our incomparable warbler Mrs. Bil- 
 lington! As the following anecdotes of this 
 celebrated singer convey, to my mind, a not 
 uninstructive lesson to such of my fair country¬ 
 women as may be in possession of this most 
 fascinating, as well as most dangerous, of all 
 God’s gifts, when unaccompanied by good con¬ 
 duct, I shall introduce them into the present 
 chapter. 
 
 Mrs. Billington came to Naples in the year 
 1794, accompanied by her husband, a double- 
 bass player, and her brother Charles Weischell, 
 the famous performer on the violin. She was 
 soon engaged to sing at the theatre San Carlo ; 
 andon her account Signor Bianchi was instructed 
 to set to music the opera of Ines di Castro ; into 
 which, in consequence of her defective memory, 
 she instructed him to introduce a favourite song, 
 which she had for years been giving in London, 
 composed by Salieri. Bianchi complied with her 
 request, but added thereto a few bars and three 
 cadenzas, in order that she might change them 
 in the course of the opera ; Cimarosa also wrote 
 three ; the German composer, Hermil, added 
 three more; while Marescalche, one of the 
 orchestra, and a music seller, likewise contri- 
 
V E N I C Is. 
 
 265 
 
 bated three ; making up amongst them a round 
 dozen, all of them obligatos, which she was to 
 sing, accompanied by her brother the violinist. 
 
 It will scarcely be credited, that this most 
 skilful singer possessed so little nature and so 
 much science, that she actually began the Car¬ 
 nival with the first cadenza, and ended it, with¬ 
 out varying a note during the whole time. 
 Whatever she had determined on doing, she 
 executed to the greatest perfection; but in 
 point of genius, and at variations, or at an im¬ 
 promptu, she was a mere dunce, and, in every 
 respect, what the Italians call una testa dura. 
 
 Mrs. Billington had not been long at Naples 
 before she attracted the attention of princes, 
 dukes, barons, counts, and commoners. Her 
 amazing musical powers, with her great per¬ 
 sonal charms, and the facility with which those 
 charms were yielded up, and perhaps for the 
 first time opposed by her hitherto complaisant 
 husband, gave birth to a rumour of his having 
 been carried off by poison. The occasion of it 
 was this. 
 
 On the second day of her first engagement at 
 the theatre San Carlo, after she and Mr. Bil¬ 
 lington had been dining with an English family 
 who were lodging in the same hotel, he went 
 up stairs to fetch the cloak in which she was 
 
28 2 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 about to go to the theatre, when, while in the act 
 of putting it on her shoulders, without uttering 
 a syllable, he dropped down at her feet, and 
 expired ! 
 
 Great suspicions were entertained that this 
 sudden event had been occasioned by poison ; 
 but, the characters both of Mr. and Mrs. Bil- 
 lington were too well established in the world 
 of gallantry, to render the supposition that the 
 husband, through jealousy, had taken poison, 
 credible, or that the wife had administered the 
 potion for the sake of gratifying her passions 
 cul libitum. No, no ! Mr. and Mrs. Billington 
 understood each other’s necessities far better! 
 The easy compliances of the lady were too pro¬ 
 fitable to the fiddler, to render such a result 
 probable. 
 
 Mrs. Billington, however, soon consoled her¬ 
 self for the loss of her double-bass husband, in 
 the arms of those who performed more to her 
 satisfaction on the strings of her heart, not only 
 during the remainder of her stay at Naples, but 
 in every town which she visited. Her vast 
 musical talents, added to her nightly personal 
 fame, never failed to furnish her with what the 
 French call de grande pratique. Lovers, ad¬ 
 mirers, cavalieri servanti, were accepted by her 
 and dismissed, as easily as fashions are taken up 
 
VENICE. 
 
 283 
 
 and laid down, according as inclination, or rea¬ 
 sons of a more solid nature, happened to pre¬ 
 dominate. Happily for the public at large, 
 no individual occupied her undivided attention, 
 until, by a turn of the wheel of fortune, she 
 found herself engaged at the theatre della 
 Seal a at Milan. Here it was that Mrs. Bil- 
 lington got acquainted with a fellow of the 
 name of Filisan, a native of Lyons, who had, 
 it is said, been one of the active murderous 
 agents, employed against the unfortunate nobi¬ 
 lity, who fell by wholesale in the Place du bel 
 Coarse of that city, by cannon a la mitraille; it 
 being then thought more expeditious, as itwas at 
 a time of the year when the days were getting 
 short, and at a period when the blood-hounds had 
 a deal of business on their hands, to fire on the 
 wretched victims of revolutionary phrenzy in 
 groups, than to dispatch them separately by 
 the sainte guillotine. 
 
 The work of slaughter being at length ac¬ 
 complished, Filisan followed the army of cut¬ 
 throats to Italy, and arrived with it at Milan, 
 in the capacity of a garde-magasin. Being in 
 the prime of youth, possessing a fine athletic 
 figure and other personal advantages, he soon 
 got introduced to the company of the Jilles des 
 menus plaisirs , who formed the corps de ballet; 
 
268 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 and, step by step, he ingratiated himself into 
 the society of the principal dancers at the 
 theatre della Scala, and amongst the rest into 
 the society of the Zerbi, a lady who was at that 
 time as celebrated for her feats on the “ light 
 fantastic toe,” as she was for the liberality with 
 which she dispensed her personal favours; 
 and who afterwards, though a woman of the 
 lowest extraction, and the sister of a sbirro, 
 became the wife of Alvise Manin, nephew to 
 the last Doge of Venice : whom, by the bye, 
 she has ruined by her extravagance. 
 
 Finding, however, that her connection with 
 Filisan was unfavourable to her private specu¬ 
 lations, and having also, on sundry occasions, 
 felt the weight of his massy fist on her slender 
 and elegant shoulders, and the nimbleness of his 
 fingers in her pockets, whenever she brought 
 home her earnings from the theatre, she thought 
 proper to discard from her favour a man, whom 
 she found intent on gratifying his amour propre 
 at the expense of her professional labours. 
 
 In this unsatisfactory state of his affairs Filisan 
 cast his eyes about, and at last fixed them on 
 Mrs. Billington, who was then singing at the 
 same theatre ; and, so well did the wary French¬ 
 man play his part, that in a very short time the 
 lady became Madame Filisan, to the great as- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 209 
 
 tonishment as well as regret of all her real 
 
 friends; for the fellow’s finances were at that 
 
 « 
 
 time in so deplorable a state, notwithstanding 
 his filchings from the Zerbi, and his gambling 
 speculations, that, on tiie day of his wedding, 
 he was scarcely possessed of a second shirt: 
 at least, such is the story which Mrs. Billington 
 herself told to Sarah, her cousin, who lived 
 with her from the time she left England, in the 
 capacity of a menial servant. 
 
 Being thus raised from a state of misery and 
 wretchedness to one of comparative affluence, 
 Filisan now dressed himself out in an elegant 
 French uniform, and Mrs. Billington caused it 
 to be reported, that she had purchased him a 
 commission, which entitled him to wear it. This, 
 however, was not the case. 
 
 In a short time after her marriage, the poor 
 lady had bitter cause to lament the step she had 
 taken. Her face and arms exhibited constant 
 proofs of the Frenchman’s pugnacious powers ; 
 even before the honey-moon had expired. Jus¬ 
 tice, however, speedily overtook him. For his 
 impudence in wearing the French uniform, and 
 for his other fourberies , he was publicly flogged, 
 in St. Mark’s Place, at Venice, by order of 
 General Serrurier ; and banishment would have 
 followed, had it not been for the interference 
 
286 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 of Giuseppe Alcaini, the gentleman at whose 
 house Mrs. Billington lodged. This Signor 
 Alcaini was father to the bishop and general of 
 that name, and had been a famous man at the 
 bar; probably the only one who shone unrivalled 
 at the forum Veneta for so long a period. It 
 was his greatest ambition to entertain at his 
 splendid house and sumptuous table, the prime 
 donne of any celebrity, during the time of their 
 performing at Venice. Mrs. Billington being 
 a lively, pleasant woman, might have remained 
 there as long as she chose; but, as her French 
 maitre de magasin was obliged to leave it, she 
 thought proper to go with him to Treviso, 
 where she purchased a country-house of the 
 patrician Giovanni Veronese, at San Artien. 
 
 No sooner was she settled in it, than Filisan 
 began repairing the old house, from top to bot¬ 
 tom ; and, for fear his spouse should decamp, 
 as her brother and her cousin Sarah had done, 
 he always forced her to accompany him, in an 
 open cart, to buy planks, and bricks, and mortar, 
 and sand, and every other material necessary 
 for building. He obliged her to wear the coarsest 
 garments, and never suffered her to put on a 
 gown that cost more than two or three Venetian 
 livres a yard. At their meals no cloth was ever 
 put on the table ; and, instead of using a knife 
 
VENICE. 
 
 287 
 
 and fork, he would tear a fowl or a duck in 
 pieces with his filthy fingers. The house in 
 which they lived adjoined that of the patrician 
 Cornaro, which, by means of an hydraulic 
 machine, is surrounded with water as pure as 
 crystal. One day, in his passion, the savage 
 got hold of his wife, and swore he would drown 
 her, unless she surrendered to him her jewels. 
 To save her life, the unfortunate songstress com¬ 
 plied ; but never after were they returned to 
 her. At last, beholding the horrible condition 
 to which she was reduced by the brutal conduct 
 of her husband, she one evening took French 
 leave, almost en chemise , joined her brother at 
 Venice, and set off with him for England. 
 
 Here she met with that reception as a singer 
 which her great talents entitled her to; and 
 hither her wretch of a husband had the audacity 
 to follow her: but, as she was constantly under 
 the protection of some c/ier ami or other, the 
 
 first on the list being then the Duke of P-, 
 
 a minister of state ; as soon as Filisan presented 
 himself at the theatre, as the husband of Mrs. 
 Billington, for the purpose of receiving her 
 salary, which was all he wanted, she had him 
 instantly arrested ; and he was afterwards, by 
 order, as it is said, of the above-mentioned 
 
VENICE. 
 
 9Tj c l 
 
 Duke, justly sent out of the country, by virtue 
 of the alien act, 
 
 Filisan returned to San Artien, vowing ven¬ 
 geance against England, and the whole English 
 nation. Notwithstanding, however, all that 
 Mrs. Billington had been made to suffer from 
 this ruffian, and her knowledge that he was 
 living with women of his own stamp, she often 
 sent him money and presents from England ; 
 and, after a separation of fifteen years, actually 
 went back to him ! 
 
 “ Frailty, thy name is woman!” The ex¬ 
 cuse which she gave to an English lady, for her 
 folly in returning to such a monster, was her 
 fear, that she might become the victim of her 
 princely paramour, as a great comic actress of 
 the day was reported to have been. To save 
 what she had collected together from the grasp 
 of her regal favourite, she wrote to her husband 
 to come to England to fetch her. He assented ; 
 on condition that she made over to him every 
 thing she possessed. This being complied with, 
 Filisan re-visited this country under more fa¬ 
 vourable auspices than he had before done, and 
 Mrs.Billington returned with him to Italy, taking 
 with her a natural daughter, whom it is said she 
 had had by an Englishman of the name of Mad- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 27S 
 
 docks. She had not been long at San Artien 
 before her ruffian of a husband began his fistic 
 operations upon her, and, on one of these oc¬ 
 casions, so severe were the bruises she re¬ 
 ceived, that from that day she took to her bed, 
 and never rose from it alive ! 
 
 Having thus got rid of his wife, Filisan’s next 
 step was to send the girl who went by the name 
 of Maddocks to a convent, from a notion which 
 had got into his head, that she was a child that 
 Mrs. Billington had had by the philanthropic 
 Duke of Sussex, and that if he could contrive 
 to marry her himself, he stood a chance of get- 
 ting a good fortune with her. In which golden 
 dreams, however, he was, luckily for the object 
 of them, foiled, by some individuals in Eng¬ 
 land writing to the government, and getting 
 the young lady, through the agency of the 
 physician Aglietti, released from the convent 
 and sent over to this country. 
 
 vol. 1. 
 
 T 
 
( 274 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 THE BUONAPARTE FAMILY IN THE VENETIAN 
 TERRITORIES. 
 
 Buonaparte plans the Destruction of the Venetian Republic 
 
 . Marriage of his sister Paulina . Violation of the 
 
 Venetian Territory . Mission of Alvise Quirini to Paris 
 
 . Massacre at Verona . Peace of Campo Formio . 
 
 Sale of the Venetian States to Austria . The new Mock- 
 
 Government described . Heavy Contributions levied by 
 
 Buonaparte at Venice . Plunder of the Works of Art 
 
 . Josephine's visit to Venice. 
 
 By this time, my reader must, I think, have 
 formed a tolerably correct judgment, both of 
 the past state of the Venetian territories, and 
 of their present deplorable condition under 
 the yoke of Austria. The outline which I have 
 drawn of that condition is a correct one; but, 
 the picture will not be complete, without the 
 introduction of a few additional traits, in which 
 will be exhibited in their true light, the con¬ 
 duct of Buonaparte towards the Venetians, and 
 the spirit, the tone, the temper, and the intent, 
 with which the overthrow of their venerable 
 republic was effected by the son of the attor¬ 
 ney of Ajaccio, preparatory to its being finally 
 
V K X I C K. 
 
 *75 
 
 handed over by him to Francis of Austria— 
 the descendant of the immortal Maria Theresa ! 
 
 Some highly interesting anecdotes of the 
 exploits of The Iluonaparte Family in Italy — 
 mother as well as son, brothers as well as 
 sisters—I reserve for my second volume, under 
 the head “ Milan,” and shall only insert in 
 this place such as either took place in, or have 
 reference to, the hard fate of the once “ Ve¬ 
 nezia la Ricca.” 
 
 \\ hen the Cisalpines had literally become 
 the humbled and degraded slaves of the 
 “ Gran Madre Re public a, 5 ’ the plan was next 
 formed for the ruin of that once happy people, 
 the Venetians; a ruin which, no doubt, was 
 hastened by the imbecillity and the treachery of 
 the then powerful Francesco Pesaro, of whom 
 1 have already spoken, by his persuading the 
 Venetian government to maintain an unarmed 
 neutrality; which, as Mallet du Pan justly 
 observed, was “ una parola nuova nel voca- 
 bulario for, surely, if any one power wishes 
 to be respected, it can only become so, from 
 the force which it is able to oppose, in case of 
 its being threatened with violence by another. 
 For the logic of sovereigns is generally com¬ 
 prised in the short and pithy argument which 
 Frederick the First caused to be engraved on his 
 
 t 2 
 
 
276 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 cannon, “ Voila mon droitand Frederick 
 might, with some shew of propriety, enforce 
 it; for he possessed both men and money, 
 and was unlike Buonaparte, who, when com¬ 
 plaints were made to him against the pecula¬ 
 tions of his numerous civil and military em¬ 
 ployes would answer, “ Neho bisogna di uomini 
 e dinari, per far la guerra: cio mi basta.” 
 
 Being on a visit to the Duke di Serbelloni, 
 at Castel Gomberto, one of his country seats, 
 
 I was requested to accompany him to Milan, 
 as he had been invited to a grand dejedne given 
 at the Palazzo Serbelloni, in consequence of the 
 marriage of Paulina Buonaparte with General 
 Le Clerc ; which said dejeune was assuredly not 
 served up in a homely, democratical style; since 
 it would scarcely be possible for pen to describe 
 the magnificence that was displayed upon the 
 occasion. 
 
 From that time, I never saw Madame Le 
 Clerc, except accidentally on my return from 
 Spain, in my way to Italy, when I again met 
 her at Marseilles, where she had just arrived, 
 with the body of her husband, who had died 
 at St. Domingo ; and sometime afterwards at 
 Rome, when she had become the Princess 
 Borghese. But she was then so much altered, 
 as scarcely to be recognized; for, at the time of 
 
V E N I C E. 
 
 277 
 
 her marriage to her first husband, she was 
 really a most beautiful woman. 
 
 As I have mentioned the sumptuous dejeune 
 given by Buonaparte at the palace Serbelloni, 
 on the marriage of his sister, I shall here take 
 occasion to express the astonishment I have 
 often felt, that this Corsican family should have 
 been so uncommonly extravagant, seeing that 
 not a soul of them had ever before been in 
 affluent circumstances. 
 
 At the Hotel di Belvidere, where I resided, 
 I found that one of the waiters had been ser¬ 
 vant to Buonaparte, during the siege of Tou¬ 
 lon, when his propitious star first shone upon his 
 early exploits. At that time, he was so exces¬ 
 sively poor and friendless, that he and his man 
 often could not scrape together a sum suffi¬ 
 ciently large to allow them to engage any 
 other conveyance, from Marseilles to Toulon, 
 than a single horse between them, and fre¬ 
 quently they were obliged to go on foot, for 
 want of that useful commodity which is said 
 to “ make the mare to go.” 
 
 This man also accompanied Buonaparte to 
 Paris, and continued in his service until he 
 embarked for Egypt. He declared to me, that 
 he had often heard his master say, “ 1 must 
 positively quit Paris and France lor some little 
 
 t 3 
 
2? 8 
 
 V E N 1 C E. 
 
 time, or I shall meet with the fate that befel 
 the Scipios: those two warriors were the 
 greatest men Rome ever possessed: their sta¬ 
 tues were worshipped, and placed amongst 
 those of their gods in the Pantheon, upon 
 cushions; but they lost all their popularity 
 with the Romans, by appearing too often be 
 fore them.” To this policy it may be attri¬ 
 buted, that Buonaparte was induced to under¬ 
 take the command of that most extraordinary 
 expedition. 
 
 It was at the sumptuous dejeAne , given at 
 the palazzo Serbelloni, on the occasion of the 
 marriage of his sister Paulina to General Le 
 Clerc, that the violation of the Venetian ter¬ 
 ritory was determined on by Buonaparte. It 
 was, however, necessary for him to proceed 
 with every possible degree of caution, so as 
 not openly to insult the hospitality of the Ve¬ 
 netians; as the French army, at that time, 
 were actually maintained by the very govern¬ 
 ment, whose destruction had been irrevocably 
 fixed. 
 
 To accomplish this destruction, Salicetti was 
 directed to prepare some hundreds of peasants’ 
 dresses ; which dresses were distributed amongst 
 the men and officers; and under this disguise were 
 Bergamo and Brescia invaded, in concert with 
 
VENICE. 
 
 2?9 
 
 the Lecchis and a few turbulent and disaffected 
 characters, so as to make it appear to the go¬ 
 vernment at Venice, that the dismemberment 
 of these two rich provinces had been the effect 
 of a general and voluntary effort, on the part 
 of the people, to get rid of their former mild 
 government, and unite themselves with that of 
 the Cisalpine. 
 
 Remonstrance, on the part of the Venetian 
 government, was useless, and of no weight in 
 the scale of republican equity and justice. The 
 die had been cast by Buonaparte. Those 
 places were now to be separated for ever from 
 the Venetian territory. 
 
 On this occasion, the noble Alvise Quirini 
 was sent ambassador extraordinary to Paris, to 
 complain of this violation of their well-known 
 neutrality and continued hospitality; notwith¬ 
 standing the large sum advanced for the me¬ 
 diation of Barras with the other directors, 
 for a further continuance of the Venetian neu¬ 
 trality and independence. On his arrival at 
 his hotel, he found an order for him instantly 
 to quit Paris, as Venice had, in the interim, 
 been revolutionized ; though the sum of money 
 to be paid, had been actually anticipated ; and 
 the contributions levied by Buonaparte had 
 been generally agreed to. 
 
 t 4 
 
 V 
 
280 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 In this state were the negociations, when 
 Buonaparte took possession of Verona, in open 
 violation of all law, human and divine. And, 
 what merit, I ask, could attach to a general, 
 or to his army, for acting thus towards a 
 friendly power, unprepared for resistance, ex¬ 
 cept in the affections of its subjects, in an 
 open country, against an unarmed population, 
 and an unfortified city; whose inhabitants 
 were cruelly plundered and massacred ? Many 
 of the poor defenceless people of Verona 
 were barbarously executed by the dastardly 
 French, on their becoming masters of the Ve¬ 
 netian states ; but, the noble resistance which 
 they made sufficiently demonstrates, that their 
 affection and love for their legitimate govern¬ 
 ment, would have proved a powerful barrier 
 against French aggression, had they been sup¬ 
 plied with arms. But, from the fatal want of 
 them, they were brutally butchered and treated 
 as rebels, for having defended themselves, to the 
 best of their power, against the invasion of a 
 foreign enemy, who was indebted millions to 
 the Venetian government, and whose armies 
 must have perished, but for the supplies which 
 that government had generously afforded them ! 
 
 Such members of the Venetian government 
 as had not time, or were not disposed, to aban- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 281 
 
 don their situations and the trust reposed in 
 them, by quitting Verona for Venice, were 
 seized as hostages for the due fulfilment of the 
 contract negociated at Paris; though the go¬ 
 vernment no longer existed. Many persons at 
 Verona were tried by a military court martial 
 and shot. Amongst others, was my most par¬ 
 ticular friend Count Augustin Verita, who left 
 behind him a young and beloved wife and child 
 to deplore his melancholy fate. Ambassadors, 
 commissioners, nobles, persons of all ranks and 
 stations, were sent from Venice to Verona, and, 
 vice versd, form Verona to Venice : but the 
 Pacha Buonaparte was inexorable, and not to be 
 diverted from his plan of general devastation; 
 and Venice, like the rest of Italy, was not to 
 be exempt from the despotism of this unfeeling 
 dictator! And, for all this accumulated affliction 
 were the Venetians indebted to their own cre¬ 
 dulity, and to the hypocritical projects of the 
 Corsican upstart! 
 
 The base pretence set up by Buonaparte for his 
 hostility towards the Venetians, and for sacrile¬ 
 giously entering their territories, was, that the 
 Veronese, headed by Count Augustin Verita, 
 had inhumanly forced their way into the French 
 hospitals, and had there massacred the sick and 
 wounded of his army ! 
 
282 
 
 V E N I C K. 
 
 Now, had this even been the case, what right had 
 he to make the whole nation, or its government, 
 responsible for the act of an individual ? This, 
 however, was not the case ; as has been proved, 
 beyond the shadow of a doubt: it is, however, 
 of a piece with all the foul deeds of treachery 
 performed by Buonaparte for the overthrow of 
 the Venetian government. The above-men¬ 
 tioned unheard-of calumny was the sheer in¬ 
 vention of his own brain. Not being able to 
 discover traitors among the Venetians, he had 
 recourse to this low and infamous subterfuge, 
 in order to palliate his want of feeling for his 
 own sick and wounded, who were dying every 
 where like rotten sheep, for the want of medical 
 assistance, and for lack of the common neces¬ 
 saries of life. For Buonaparte had little or no 
 care for any of his men, when they could no 
 longer be of service to him in the field of bat¬ 
 tle. He then most philosophically considered 
 them an incumbrance, which it was desirable to 
 get rid of. As “ dead men tell no tales,” many 
 a vile perpetrator of his foul orders has fallen a 
 victim to his own misdeeds, to avoid discovery. 
 By some of them, however, who were lucky 
 enough to escape the just reward that awaited 
 their bloody deeds, the real facts have been 
 brought to light *, and those facts completely 
 
/ 
 
 VENICE. 28 S' 
 
 exonerate the Venetian government of the foul 
 crime laid to their charge by the unprincipled 
 invader. 
 
 Besides, if the Venetian government had really 
 wished to destroy the French army, it would 
 never, from mere motives of humanity, have 
 maintained that army, for a considerable time, 
 in the Terra Firm a; since, by doing so, it ac¬ 
 tually committed a violation of its neutrality, as 
 it regarded Austria. For at that time, from the 
 depredations and plunderings of the French 
 army, the people of the different provinces 
 were so incensed against them, that they 
 only wanted the word of command, for every 
 man of them to have risen en masse. 
 
 This I well remember, that in accompany¬ 
 ing some persons who were going to Milan, 
 for the purpose of regulating the excise and 
 customs duties, on passing through Bergamo 
 and Brescia, we were surrounded by the whole 
 population, who exclaimed to one of the pa¬ 
 tricians, who was with us in the carriage, 
 “ What is the republic about ? what does the 
 sluggish senate mean by all this inactivity ? are 
 we to be sacrificed like sheep, and slaughtered 
 by the French butchers ?” 
 
 But, alas, alas, instead of putting arms into 
 their hands, and animating them to a general 
 
584 
 
 VENIC E. 
 
 defence of the state, they were exhorted to act 
 with the greatest prudence—least, forsooth, they 
 should give General Buonaparte and his army 
 cause to complain ! 
 
 O, fallacious policy! O, unwise forbearance ! 
 Thus were the poor people lulled into a state of 
 apathy, until the Corsican invader, discovering 
 their inviolable attachment to their government, 
 and tired of acting the hypocrite any longer, 
 revolutionized both Bergamo and Brescia ! 
 
 While these things were going on, the Ge¬ 
 noese were secretly enjoying the destruction 
 of their ancient rivals, the Venetians ; never 
 once recollecting the good old proverb — “ Ho- 
 die mihi, eras tibi.” And here I must be al¬ 
 lowed to repeat, what I have before so strenu¬ 
 ously urged ; namely, that Italy would never 
 have been conquered by the French or by the 
 Austrians, if the whole of that country had 
 been opposed to the enemy. The policy which 
 has fatally prevailed, has been to keep the Ita¬ 
 lians constantly at variance amongst them¬ 
 selves ; and we well know, from the highest 
 authority, that “ a house divided against itself 
 cannot standbut Buonaparte, by disguising 
 his real intentions, and by professing the oppo¬ 
 site of that which he intended to perform, con¬ 
 trived to make them individually hate each 
 
V E N I C E. 
 
 285 
 
 other; and by so doing did he more completely 
 throw Italy into a state of division, than any 
 other conqueror had done. 
 
 Alvise Quirini being returned from his em¬ 
 bassy to Paris, Buonaparte, in the month of 
 June 1796, at a small hovel in the town of 
 Mestre, directed, nay commanded, the im¬ 
 prisonment of the three Inquisitors of State ; 
 and, as soon as his fiat had been obeyed, the 
 sham democratic republic was installed in their 
 room. The respected names of Pisani, of 
 Dolfin, of Cornaro, of Ferro, and of Mocenego, 
 were dishonoured, degraded, polluted, by the 
 infamous wretches with whom they were now 
 associated ! But, all the men of birth, of rank, 
 and of probity, who, from their bond Jide love 
 of reform, had unfortunately been led astray 
 from the path of duty, were soon convinced, 
 that such an olio spagnuolo could not long con¬ 
 tinue ; and many of them declined the honour 
 of serving their country, in company with the 
 rebels who had been chosen by Buonaparte. 
 
 But, here follows another Corsican stratagem, 
 more atrocious, if possible, than all the rest. 
 Will it be credited, that, during the whole of 
 this time, Buonaparte had been negociating the 
 sale of the Venetian States to Austria? for 
 whilst the manoeuvres, and the murders, and 
 
'286 
 
 V K .V I C K. 
 
 fthe butcherings, were committing at Vero¬ 
 na, that ginger-bread compact, the peace of 
 Campo Formio took place, in the course of 
 which the above states were actually bargained 
 away! The comedy of errors was, however, 
 still kept up in all its scenes; until at last the 
 curtain dropped, and convinced the Venetians, 
 as well as all Italy, that they had been perform¬ 
 ing the prominent parts of folly and of imbe¬ 
 cility, which distinguished the sad tragedy. 
 
 Though Buonaparte at first insisted, that per¬ 
 sons taken out of the lowest class should form 
 the major portion in the new mock-government, 
 he, nevertheless, when it was proposed that 
 some of these mushroom members of his own 
 creation should be sent to him at Campo For¬ 
 mio—(for he still kept up the farce of making 
 the Venetian democrats believe that he was 
 treating for their independence, though Austria 
 had concluded the contract, whereby she was 
 to receive the Venetian States as a compensa¬ 
 tion for the Low Countries) —he rejected the 
 rebel deputies with disdain, as he no longer 
 stood in need of their assistance, and insisted, 
 that two noble Venetians, as had been the cus¬ 
 tom, thould be sent thither, with Lavezzari, 
 the secretary of the late senate, at their head ; 
 who had, for many years, been the resident 
 
V E N ICE. 287 
 
 minister of the republic, at the Court of 
 London. 
 
 It is to the said Lavezzari, between whom 
 and myself there existed a long and uninter¬ 
 rupted friendship, that I am indebted for many 
 of the anecdotes recorded in the present work. 
 My friend had strongly disapproved of the 
 impolitic conduct of his government, in re¬ 
 fusing the generous offer of England, made 
 in the year 1793, and repeated on the first 
 invasion of the Italian territory by the French, 
 of supplying the republic with men, with 
 money, and with ships, for the purpose of 
 protecting the Adriatic. But, all the argu¬ 
 ments he could make use of, founded on deep 
 knowledge acquired by a long and skilful diplo¬ 
 matic career, were over-ruled by Bataja and 
 Francesco Pesaro. 
 
 Buonaparte, however, never had the courage 
 to come to Venice, until after he had been 
 dubbed “ Imperatore” Shortly after he as¬ 
 sumed that title, he added thereto that of 
 “ Altissimo,” which gave rise to the following 
 jeu d’esprit on the two emperors— 
 
 “ L’Altissimo di su ci manda la tempesta, 
 
 L' Altissimo digiu ci matigia qual che resta : 
 
 Fra questi due Altissimi 
 Noi restiamo poverissimi!” 
 
288 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 The contributions levied by Buonaparte at 
 Venice, on his newly bought and newly sold 
 slaves, were enormous. The statues, the ma¬ 
 nuscripts, the public library, the paintings, the 
 shipping, were seized. The vessels in the 
 arsenal, and a great part of the buildings, were 
 destroyed; together with the famous Bucen- 
 toro, or galley, in which the Doge, on the 
 feast of the Ascension, used to go, accompa¬ 
 nied by a great number of the patricians, to 
 marry the Adriatic ; and a description of which 
 vessel I have already given. 
 
 As soon as the government had been suffi¬ 
 ciently democratized, Madame Josephine Buo¬ 
 naparte made her appearance at Venice, in the 
 place of her lord and master, attended by all 
 the revolutionary demireps of her party. The 
 only Venetian noble lady who paid her any 
 particular attention was Cecilia Tron, at¬ 
 tended by her friend Annetta Vadori, and her 
 democratical husband Zorzi Richi. 
 
( 289 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 THE BUONAPARTE FAMILY IN THE VENETIAN 
 TERRITORIES. 
 
 Removal of the It or Its of Art to Paris . Josephine leaves 
 
 Venice for the Terra Firina . Her visit to the Bishop of 
 
 Treviso . Buonaparte and Mrs. Billington at Bologna 
 
 . Cecilia Tron and Zorzi Richi Buonaparte's “ inde¬ 
 pendent" Cisalpin Republic described . Fatal effects of 
 
 domestic division exemplified in the case of the Royal Family 
 if Sp a in Brief Sketch of the Spanish Court and Nation. 
 
 The populace of Venice supported the loss 
 of all the beautiful works of art with a most 
 philosophical indifference, until they saw the 
 preparations which were making, at the door 
 of St. Mark’s Church, to take down the four 
 famous horses, brought from Constantinople 
 by the Venetians, when they conquered that 
 city, and of which I have elsewhere spoken. 
 The sight of what was going on occasioned a 
 deep national sensation; and, if there had been 
 at that precise moment, any manly spirit ready 
 vor.. i. u 
 
-290 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 to head the populace, a revolt would inevitably 
 have taken place. But their once leading 
 men had been deprived of their property; and 
 with that property had fled their former manly 
 spirit of resistance. So true is it, that “ L’uomo 
 senzapecunia e l’immagine della morte.” The 
 people, therefore, made a merit of necessity, 
 and suffered the French to proceed unmolested 
 in the work of taking down these invaluable 
 ornaments of their once famous city. No Ve¬ 
 netian labourer could, however, be found to 
 assist them in the work of national robbery; 
 and the whole populace attended the embarka¬ 
 tion of the four steeds, as they would have at¬ 
 tended the body of a revered friend to the 
 grave. 
 
 Had St. Mark’s Place and the great tower 
 been moveable, the French would have carried 
 them off, amidst the cries of “ Viva la liberta 
 et l’egualianza ; chi non ruba non impiegnisce 
 la panza.” In the Terra Firma, they plun¬ 
 dered the several Monte di Pieta; which were 
 establishments similar to our pawnbrokers’ 
 shops ; and thereby was occasioned the ruin 
 of thousands of honest and respectable fa¬ 
 milies. 
 
 From Venice Madame Josephine and her 
 precious train of democratical trollops passed 
 
VENICE. 
 
 to the Terra Firma, where they made it a con¬ 
 stant practice, as they had before done at Ve¬ 
 nice, to take every thing they had an inclina¬ 
 tion to, without paying for it. They never 
 waited for an invitation, but visited wherever 
 they pleased. Amongst the rest, Merini, the 
 Bishop of Treviso, was obliged to entertain 
 them at dinner; in the course of which the old 
 man caught a horrid fit of the gout in his hand, 
 from a cold occasioned by the loss of a large, 
 beautiful, and valuable ring, which Josephine 
 had thought proper to take from his fingers; 
 but which, unfortunately, she forgot to return. 
 The poor bishop had but slender hopes of 
 being made a cardinal; for at that time the 
 title was out of fashion, and he died before 
 the religious farce was brought upon the political 
 boards. Upon the above occasion, the Vene¬ 
 tians were accustomed to observe, “ I Fran¬ 
 ces! fanni molto uso del verbo avere , ma quello 
 del verbo dare non hanno nel loro vocabu- 
 lario.” 
 
 When Buonaparte and the French army en¬ 
 tered Bologna, Mrs. Billington happened to 
 be singing at the opera ; and, so terrified was 
 she, that she refused to perform. Upon hear¬ 
 ing this, the Hero of Italy ordered her to 
 come to him in his box, and he there assured 
 
 v 2 
 
VENICE. 
 
 2^2 
 
 her, she had nothing to fear from liim, as he 
 “ never was at war with the fair sex.” He 
 nevertheless thought proper to arrest Mrs. 
 Watson, the English Consul’s wife, and had 
 her dragged about, from place to place, for 
 eight years, as a prisoner of war. He treated 
 Mrs. Spencer Smith in the same manner, as 
 well as another English lady at Venice. The 
 former was arrested, by Buonaparte’s order, 
 immediately on the French coming to Venice ; 
 the other two, while he was in Russia. One of 
 them had resided in Venice twenty years, and 
 was married to a Venetian. In short, the 
 whole life of this man was a continued series 
 of contradictions ; but the greatest of all was, 
 perhaps, the surrendering himself up to the 
 English, whom he absolutely detested, and 
 whom he had always described as a nation 
 of pirates—“ Cette nation doit etre ecrasee,” 
 was an expression he was accustomed to make 
 use of, whenever the great man happened to 
 be thwarted by the British government, in any 
 of his “ grandes pensees.” 
 
 I have mentioned Madame Cecilia Tron, as 
 being the only Venetian noble lady, who paid 
 Josephine any particular attention. Her reason 
 for so doing was briefly this: she had at the 
 time a lover of the name of Zorzi Richi, a 
 
VENICE. 
 
 293 
 
 Greek and a native of Corfu, whom she after¬ 
 wards married. For this animal, who was the 
 ne plus ultra of a Jacobin, Cecilia was extremely 
 anxious to procure some appointment under the 
 new government, and on this account was she 
 induced to pay court to this female fox under 
 the gaib of a lamb. Nor was Cecilia unsuc¬ 
 cessful in her application to the C'isalpin rege- 
 neratrice, for Zorzi, sure enough, became one 
 of the nomeaux employes; and, rather than have 
 his name left out of the list, the brute would 
 submit to have been made a night-man; for 
 “ charity begins at home,” was Zorzi’s favourite 
 motto; and he had moreover a prodigious attach¬ 
 ment to the Agrarian law with regard to pro¬ 
 perty, in the expectation of securing a few acres 
 for himself. 
 
 But, in the midst of the democratical exhibi¬ 
 tions which Cecilia Tron gave at her palace on 
 the Grand Canal, she could not, I think, help 
 sometimes comparing her then situation, with 
 the honours which she had once received from 
 the hands of the Emperor, Joseph the Second, 
 and contrasting the manners and habits of her 
 then raggamuffin guests, with those of the 
 distinguished individuals who formerly attended 
 her delightful parties, at the times when that 
 * * . u 3 « 
 
294 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 monarch, whose letters she was accustomed so 
 highly to extol, visited her, during his stay at 
 Venice. 
 
 And never, surely, was there such an “ in¬ 
 dependent ” government, as the republican 
 one, which Buonaparte, in his loving kindness, 
 had carved out for the poor Cisalpins! At the 
 head of all their public decrees, in large letters, 
 stood these words: “ For the honour and inde¬ 
 pendence of the infant Cisalpin Republic, the 
 affectionate and loving Republic of France, 
 orders and commands,” &c. &c. 
 
 I can never think of the conduct of Buona¬ 
 parte towards the people of Italy, but it re¬ 
 minds me of the sort of “ independence” which 
 he promised to father and son, when the un¬ 
 happy differences broke out between Charles the 
 Fourth and his hopeful boy, the present right 
 dearly “ beloved ” Ferdinand of Spain. Woe 
 to that sovereign, to that family, or to that 
 nation, who shall submit to have their private, 
 or their public, differences settled by a foreigner! 
 By so doing, they forfeit every claim to domes¬ 
 tic tranquillity, and bid a lasting adieu to that 
 mutual confidence, which, when once destroyed, 
 can never be restored; and produce that precise 
 state of things, which must either terminate in 
 
VENICE. 
 
 295 
 
 the triumph of one of the parties, or in both of 
 them becoming the slaves of a foreign inter¬ 
 ference. 
 
 Thus was it with the above individuals, when 
 Buonaparte seduced father and son to quit their 
 own dominions. Finding both of them to be in 
 the wrong, from their inability to do that 
 which was right, he cunningly contrived to 
 make them both equally culpable, and both 
 equally unworthy of reigning, when those wise¬ 
 acres of princes called him in to be the umpire 
 in their disputes; and when, for the “honourand 
 the independence ” of Spain, as he had before 
 done for the “ honour and the independence ” 
 of the Cisalpins, he had “ ordered” and “ com¬ 
 manded ” father, mother, son, brother, and 
 lover to relinquish their authority—a command, 
 which they never would have been forced to 
 obey, had they been as much united for the 
 public good, as they were divided in their se¬ 
 veral views. By an overwhelming stretch of 
 power, a nation may, for a while, be conquered; 
 but never can it be subdued, without the entire 
 extermination of its inhabitants—in which case, 
 it would not be worth possessing. 
 
 But the people of Spain, I venture to assert— 
 and I do it after much reflection and considera¬ 
 tion—are at least a century behind the rest of 
 
 u- 4 
 
296 
 
 V E NICE. 
 
 the natives of Europe, in point of civilization. 
 They are neither so rich, nor so valiant, nor so 
 generous, as people have imagined them to be. 
 
 A bigotry which borders more on idolatry 
 than it does on religion; and a superstition 
 which is the offspring of gross, and palpable, 
 and almost tangible ignorance, must, and ever 
 will, have the inevitable effect of retarding the 
 general improvement of the human species. 
 
 To apply this to the present state of Spain. 
 It we take a sober and impartial review of their 
 recent conduct, we shall find them to be a race 
 of mortals, differing from every other nation ; 
 and especially that portion of them which be¬ 
 long to the old stock of Grandees. To me 
 they appear to be the very outcasts of human 
 manufactory : they seem to have been formed in 
 a different mould from that of the rest of their 
 fellow creatures. I scarcely ever recollect see¬ 
 ing one of them, who was not marked in the 
 countenance like the Pharisee who gave our 
 Saviour the sacrilegious slap ; who was not 
 hunch-backed, or had crooked or ricketty legs ; 
 or who had not an immensely large squat body, 
 with a little round head tottering on a short 
 neck ; like the Chinese figures which one sees at 
 all the tea-shops nodding for customers, or the 
 figure of punch running upon rollers. 
 
VENICE. 
 
 297 
 
 Of all people on earth, the Spaniards are 
 the most lazy, the most lousy, the most filthy, 
 the most ignorant, the most savage, the most 
 cruel, and the most implacable in their hatred 
 towards all other nations; but especially towards 
 the French, for whom they have an unconquer¬ 
 able, a deadly, aversion, and whose language is 
 even less known amongst them, than it is in any 
 village in Russia. 
 
 On the arrival in Spain of the Crown Prince 
 of Naples, with the princess his sister—who 
 was the first wife of the present king, and whose 
 sister was destined to be the wife of the said 
 prince of Naples—when they alighted at Barce¬ 
 lona, at the palace prepared for their reception, 
 they had more than half an hour to wait, before 
 they could procure a glass of water; for there 
 was not a servant who understood French, 
 Italian, German, or English. 
 
 Nearly the same thing took place with the 
 ladies who were about to be presented to the 
 Queen of Charles the Fourth. They were intro¬ 
 duced to an old, squat, punchy figure, with her 
 head nodding backwards and forwards, dressed 
 in a hoop-petticoat, much wider than the little 
 body was long, with ruffles at her elbows reach¬ 
 ing down to her high-heeled shoes ; on her head 
 was a wide cap, covered with lace, a foot and 
 
298 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 a half higher than her toupee, which was 
 combed smooth over a black roller; and, added 
 to the whole, was a complexion more resembling 
 a rotten olive, or fried oil, than the human skin. 
 All we could get out of this “ model of divine 
 perfection,” was “ Nada, nada; non intendo 
 austeand, if it had not been for one of the 
 foreign ambassadors, who conducted us to the 
 ambassador of the country to which we respec¬ 
 tively belonged, old “ Nada ” would have 
 “ nada’d ” us till the day of resurrection; and 
 when the Queen told her our business for the 
 next presentation to the princess, she turned 
 round like a whipping top, laughed like a Che¬ 
 rokee, and shewed her teeth like a monkey; 
 which said teeth, one in and one out, resembled, 
 for all the world, the old rusty bars of a prison. 
 
 There was not a single carriage belonging to 
 the royal family, that had any other harness 
 than ropes; excepting one, which belonged 
 to the Queen, and a chariot, which was the pro¬ 
 perty of the then all-powerful and infamous 
 Godoi, the Prince of Peace ; whose anti-chamber 
 for reception of the Grandees was at the head 
 of the stair-case; and when he saw me he 
 politely conducted me by the hand to the pre¬ 
 sence chamber of his levee; and as politely 
 shut the door in their faces. He neither spoke, 
 
VENI C E. 
 
 299 
 
 nor understood, any tongue except Spanish, 
 Ot course, my conversation with him was of a 
 very limited nature, as I was but scantily ac- 
 cpiainted with the idiom of that language; but 
 Massaredo and Gravina were kind enough to 
 explain to me the Prince’s civilities. 
 
 In short, I quitted Spain with less regret than 
 I ever quitted any country in Europe ; since it 
 had no post, but on horseback; no high roads 
 but from one part of France. The arts and 
 sciences were neglected ; very little trade was 
 going on ; no agriculture but of the most ordi¬ 
 nary kind was encouraged ; few manufactories; 
 and the whole country had nothing to recom¬ 
 mend it, but its fine sky and its fruitful but 
 scandalously-neglected soil. 
 
 In Spain, there are no public inns but such as 
 are fit for Spaniards to enter ; and no provisions 
 are to be procured in any of them, except those 
 on the road from Perpignan to Barcelona, and on 
 the roads towards Madrid, and the Estremadu- 
 ras. When a traveller arrives at one of these 
 inns, and asks the landlord what he has to give 
 his visitors for dinner, the fellow will answer, 
 laconically, “ nadathat is to say, nothing. 
 If, therefore, you happen to be on a road, at a 
 distance from any town or village, and have not 
 had the precaution to take a supply with you, 
 
300 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 you must go without. To be sure, if the inn 
 happen to be situated in a village or town, the 
 landlord—standing at the door of his pig-stie, 
 with a segar in his mouth, and his knowledge- 
 box covered with an immensely large slouched, 
 broad-brimmed hat, and a dirty long cloak, 
 even in the month of July or August—will some¬ 
 times condescend to point out to you the dif¬ 
 ferent shops or stalls, at which are sold beef, 
 mutton, bread, butter, and the other things ne¬ 
 cessary for your dinner; but, not a peg will he 
 stir, either to procure them for you, or to dress 
 them after you shall have purchased them. 
 
 And then, again, at night! if you are fortu¬ 
 nate enough to obtain a little clean straw to 
 sleep upon, to prevent your being covered with 
 vermin, you will have procured a treasure, which 
 few, very few, enjoy. But, notwithstanding all 
 this, the unconscionable landlord will, in the 
 morning, send you in a bill, which is often as 
 exorbitant as that of an English hotel-keeper, on 
 the Bath road, at the height of the season. 
 
 I 
 
 * > 
 
V E N I C E, 
 
 301 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 f- r 
 
 THE BUONAPARTE FAMILY IN THE VENETIAN 
 TERRITORY. 
 
 Napoleon notv visits Venice for the frst time . Meets the 
 
 Prefects at Vicenza . Ilis conversation xvith the Marquis 
 
 Solari respecting the Sette Comrnuni . Napoleon at the 
 
 Venetian Casinos . Appoints sundry Ladies dames d'hon- 
 
 neur to the Empress . Account of the Vice Queen of Italy 
 
 . My interview with Barras . Napoleons Character 
 
 by Barras . And by Augereau. 
 
 Some idea of the naturally quiet and peaceable 
 disposition of the Venetians, may be formed 
 from the reply which General Miolis, when 
 governor of Venice, made to Buonaparte, on 
 being reprimanded for so frequently absenting 
 himself from the city, and going to Mestre and 
 Treviso—“ General,” said Miolis, “ the Ve¬ 
 netians are just as well governed in my absence, 
 as they would be in my presence : they are by 
 nature quiet, and want no force to controul 
 them ; for there is at Venice a considerable 
 population, but no mob.” 
 
302 
 
 V F. N I C E. 
 
 Napoleon, after his coronation, thought for 
 the first time, of visiting his Italian slaves, and 
 determined to include Venice in the general 
 tour. Orders were accordingly sent round to 
 all the civil magistrates, to meet him within the 
 limits of their several governments. 
 
 The prefects, as the heads of the different 
 departments, with the sub-prefects, and their 
 ladies, were all directed to appear en grand 
 train. Milan was no longer the fashion, and 
 Venice was become “ ma bonne ville.” 
 
 Vicenza was to be the rendezvous of the pre¬ 
 fects and sub-prefects. The famous Olympic 
 Theatre, built by the immortal Palladio, and 
 to light up which requires no less than a but of 
 oil, attracted the notice of the “ altissimo impe- 
 ratore.” Observing which, the magistrate took 
 the liberty of informing the mighty man, that 
 from its dilapidated and neglected state, they 
 were fearful they should shortly be deprived of 
 this grand national monument. No sooner did 
 he hear this, than, turning round and calling to 
 his adopted son—for no mortal was allowed to 
 approach the person of the “ altissimo ” un¬ 
 called for—he said, “ I authorize you, Eugene, 
 to present the commissioners of the Olympic 
 with a hundred thousand livres.” And, that the 
 admiring spectators might be struck with his 
 
VENIC E. 
 
 303 
 
 munificence, this direction was given in an 
 audible tone of voice. The prince bowed as¬ 
 sent ; but the money for the repairs was never 
 forthcoming; and this beautiful specimen of ar¬ 
 chitectural skill continues in the same dilapi¬ 
 dated condition to this day. 
 
 As Buonaparte had always a list of the pre¬ 
 fects and sub-prefects of the departments he 
 was about to visit, he singled out such to con¬ 
 verse with as were of noble birth. Seeing; 
 amongst them the name of the Marquis Anto¬ 
 nio Solari—who was then governor of the Sibe¬ 
 rians of Italy, in the mountains called the Sette 
 Communi, and in a small village of which, called 
 La Mara, some of the inhabitants had oppo¬ 
 sed themselves to the unusual taxation, and 
 had shot several excise officers who had come 
 to enforce the payment of the same—Buona¬ 
 parte said to him, “ Marquis Solari, when you 
 return to Asiago—” (the name of the capital 
 of the Sette Communi)—“ tell the people they 
 must submit to be placed on the same footing 
 with the rest of my subjects, and that if they 
 again rebel, I will certainly exterminate them.” 
 
 The Marquis replied—“ I hope your Majesty 
 will not confound a populace of nearly forty 
 thousand peaceable souls, with a few misguided 
 individuals.” 
 
304 VENICE. 
 
 “ But I will be obeyed,” continued Buo¬ 
 naparte ; “ my laws shall be executed, and my 
 officers shall remain unmolested. Tell them, 
 Sir, that I have long arms, and can at any time 
 reach them.” 
 
 The Marquis Solari replied, “ I hope your 
 Majesty will dispense with my so doing, since 
 all Europe, I believe, is well convinced of the 
 length of those arms.” 
 
 Buonaparte being rather pleased with this 
 reply, began to take snuff by wholesale; and 
 then, addressing the Marquis, he said, “ I 
 think I have seen you before?”—“ Yes, please 
 your Majesty,” answered Solari, “ at Milan, in 
 consequence of an application to your Majesty, 
 for the restoration of two carriages of which I 
 had been robbed, and also at the marriage of 
 the Princess Borghese with General Le Clerc, at 
 my friend’s the Duke di Serbelloni’s, where 
 your Majesty was pleased to invite me to the 
 public breakfast.” “ O, yes, yes,” replied 
 Buonaparte, “ I remember.” On leaving the 
 Marquis to speak to another person, he said 
 laughingly, “ So, Marquis Solari, you think 
 the people of the Sette Communi know the 
 length of my arm ?” 
 
 This conversation took place at Vicenza; 
 from which place Buonaparte set off for Ve- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 305 
 
 nice. But the good people of that city, having, 
 for centuries, been in the habit of seeing most 
 of the sovereigns of Lurope, were by no means 
 struck with astonishment at his much vaunted 
 abilities; and he lost, at that place, much of 
 his celebrity, on their becoming personally 
 acquainted with him : for he confined his con¬ 
 versation to simple interrogatories; therein 
 imitating those princes who, being deficient in 
 logical powers, aim at being understood by a 
 vacant smile, a shake of the head, or a shrug 
 of the shoulders ; and who find it easier to 
 listen to what is said to them, than give thereto 
 an appropriate off-hand reply. 
 
 When Buonaparte visited the Casinos of the 
 noble ladies, his conversation was extremely 
 limited. “ What’s your name ? Whereabouts 
 do you live? When do you go to the Terra 
 Firma ? Have you ever been to Paris ? Are 
 you married ? How many children have you ? 
 Who is your husband ?” One lady told him, 
 she had been married several years, but had 
 had no children. “ Then kick your husband out 
 of bed,” was his reply. However, he fixed his 
 attention on one of the most aukward and mal¬ 
 adroit ladies of the whole company, who had no 
 earthly quality to recommend her, excepting her 
 youth ; invited her to dine with him on the fol- 
 
 VOL. I 
 
 X 
 
306 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 lowing day ; and appointed her one ol the ladies 
 of honour to the Empress ; as he did also the 
 ladies Catherine Micchielli Pisani, Lucy Mo- 
 cemgo, Elizabeth Damula, INI arietta Quiimi, . 
 &c.; but, as there was at that time no Empress 
 in Italy, these poor females were under the 
 necessity of trotting all the way to Milan, to 
 perform their noble office, near the person of the 
 Vice-queen, the wife of Prince Eugene, with 
 an appointment of four hundred livies a year. 
 
 These ladies of honour, however, used to 
 afford the vice-queen no small amusement, 
 when at Monza; where the Prince Eugene, her 
 husband, was wont to employ his leisure hours 
 in making them good Christians, by ducking 
 them from head to heels—to the no small diver¬ 
 sion of her suite, and the mortification of the 
 aforesaid dames d’honneur. However, it was 
 one way of being soused into favour; foi one 
 and all of them were fortunate enough to pro¬ 
 cure good situations for their husbands; nor 
 could it be attributed to any improper secret 
 influence, since all the ladies, excepting one, 
 bore unimpeachable characters. 
 
 The Princess of Bavaria, the vice-queen, was 
 certainly a very virtuous and amiable woman ; 
 but, so totally a slave was she to the tyrannical 
 etiquette of Buonaparte’s court, that she dared 
 not to interfere in behalf of any individual; nor 
 
VENICE. 
 
 307 
 
 was it ever known that she acted illiberally. 
 When commanded by Buonaparte, she would 
 make a present to her ladies of a French' silk 
 gown, a shawl, a necklace, or a pair of ear¬ 
 rings, as a compensation for those which the 
 prince her husband had seized, to keep them in 
 good-humour. 
 
 When the Empress Josephine was at Milan, 
 the vice-queen scarcely ever showed herself; as 
 she could not brook the idea of giving up her rank 
 by birth, toa newly created Empress of yesterday. 
 A similar feeling she also discovered at the time 
 of Napoleon’s coronation. When the Queens 
 of Spain, Naples, and Holland, were the train- 
 bearers to Josephine, she refused to go in the 
 procession, and absented herself, under pretence 
 of sudden illness ; and, from motives of pru¬ 
 dence, she kept her room, while most of the 
 grand fetes were going on, upon that occasion. 
 
 On the birth of Prince Eugene’s first daugh¬ 
 ter, Napoleon created her Princess of Bologna, 
 and the city of that name was graciously 
 charged with the cost of her establishment anil 
 education. Phis, however, was a mere trifle, 
 considering the high honour that was conferred 
 on them ! And, truly, what were a few millions 
 to an inland town like Bologna ! 
 
 Buonaparte was certainly one of the best cal- 
 
 x 2 
 
308 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 culators in the universe ; for he never speculated 
 without a reason. His honours were always 
 let out to interest. He would often talk of his 
 long arms ; but, if he had added thereto his 
 long sight, in accomplishing every object—up 
 to a certain point—that presented itself to his 
 view, he certainly would not have overrated the 
 degree to which he possessed this extraordinary 
 faculty. 
 
 As I have more than once mentioned the share 
 which the well-known Barras had in the overthrow 
 of the Venetian republic, I think I cannot do 
 better than introduce into this chapter, an anec¬ 
 dote or two respecting this extraordinary man. 
 
 During my visit to Brussels, in the year 1803, 
 Barras was living in that city in very good style. 
 Hearing of my arrival, he paid us a visit at the 
 Hotel de Bellevue, and gave us a general invi¬ 
 tation to his table, during our stay. It was 
 during one of these visits, that the sale to 
 Moreau of Grosbois, which had been the pro¬ 
 perty of the present King of France, and had 
 been presented to Barras by the National As¬ 
 sembly, while he was one of the Directory, 
 took place. 
 
 He would frequently say to us, when speak¬ 
 ing of Buonaparte, “ vous verrez, mes amis, 
 qu’il ne mourira pas tranquille & Paris.” 
 
VENICE. 
 
 309 
 
 He had a female with him, whom he intro¬ 
 duced to us as one of his aid-de-camps, and 
 who was constantly en habit d’homme. At 
 Brussels, he was always called General Barras, 
 and was not allowed to be visited by, or to 
 receive visits from, the inhabitants. Penticulon, 
 the then prefect of that city, kept a watchful 
 eye on the exile. At the time of my stay there, 
 another noble Venetian beside my husband, 
 was lodging at our hotel, to whom Barras made 
 himself known; as he did, indeed, to all tra¬ 
 vellers. This nobleman we one day met at 
 Barras’s house, when the following curious 
 conversation relative to the Venetian Ambassa¬ 
 dor, Alvise Quirini Stampatello, and the vio¬ 
 lation of that republic, (for the protection of 
 which Barras had received a very considerable 
 douceur ,) took place. 
 
 By the bye, the Abbe Fortis, who was at Paris, 
 while Quirini was treating for the neutrality 
 of Venice, used to say, that he had not 
 been sufficiently liberal to Barras’s subalterns j 
 who, in consequence, marred the intention of 
 their master. Be that as it may, Barras con¬ 
 fessed to us, that the Five Directors were only 
 the executioners of the peremptory will of the 
 great Buonaparte, and that Alvise Quirini, in 
 
 x 3 
 
510 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 his mode of negotiating the transaction, had 
 discovered himself to be a mere blockhead. 
 
 “ I believe,” said the Venetian nobleman, in 
 reply to this observation, “ it would have been 
 a very difficult task to have found an honest 
 man capable of treating, on equal terms, with 
 the corrupt government which then existed in 
 France.” 
 
 “ There,” replied Barras, “ is the grand error 
 into which so many people have fallen. Nothing 
 was further from the intention of the civil go¬ 
 vernment in France, than to make territorial 
 conquests, or to stir up the governments of other 
 countries against our own. It was all owing to 
 the army, and to the ungovernable ambition of 
 that Jean-F —— Buonaparte ; and which ambi¬ 
 tion will never cease but with his life, and 
 ultimately be his overthrow. 
 
 “ After Buonaparte had made himself master 
 of Italy (which, I confess, to my bitter regret, 
 was my own fault), the civil government of 
 France had no influence whatever, but was 
 wholly dependant on the military ; who, from a 
 sentiment of blind enthusiasm, were subservient 
 to Buonaparte. 
 
 “ I was the most strenuous advocate for a 
 general peace •, and, above all, for a peace with 
 England. Had she acceded to that peace, and 
 
VENICE. 
 
 311 
 
 had not the Directory been betrayed, Buonaparte 
 ■would never have been able, in an underhand 
 way, to have made himselfDictator, to the destruc¬ 
 tion of the best interests of France: for all his 
 conquests have only served to rob her of men and 
 of money. He squandered the treasures of France 
 and of Italy upon two hundred thousand men, 
 who thus had the means of corrupting millions. 
 This, I assure you, is the real state of the case. 
 
 “ There were three things which Buona¬ 
 parte was suffered to commit with impunity, 
 any one of which would have cost the life of any 
 other man. His conducttowardsKleberin Egypt; 
 his cruelty towards his prisoners; and his coming 
 from Egypt to Paris without performing qua¬ 
 rantine, and there upsetting the government; 
 were all offences, for which he was on the point 
 of being declared hors cle la lot. He, however, 
 triumphed over all of them, and has completed 
 his ingratitude by banishing me, his first friend 
 and liberal benefactor! 
 
 “ The way, too, in which all his operations 
 have hitherto been seconded by his good fortune, 
 is altogether astonishing. How long it will last 
 it is impossible for me to say ; but I think I may 
 venture to assert, that the impetuosity of his cha¬ 
 racter will shortly carry him out of his depth. 
 Had he governed the French with the precau- 
 
 x 4 
 
312 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 tionary mildness of the Directory, he would 
 long ago have been buried in the dust. Happy 
 would it have been for Europe, if he had never 
 arrived at his present giddy elevation ! But he 
 rules his subjects with a rod of iron ; and France, 
 intoxicated with her gigantic conquests—con¬ 
 quests which she can only retain as long as the 
 fanaticism which has blinded her to her real in¬ 
 terest shall continue—must, sooner or later, 
 submit to another revolution, before Europe can 
 be restored to its just equilibrium.” 
 
 All this was uttered by Barras with an energy 
 that gave to his words the conviction of truth. 
 He was remarkably animated while he was 
 speaking; and, so anxious were we to hear him 
 justify himself on many points that had been 
 laid to his charge, that we never interrupted 
 him, except when he happened to appeal to us 
 for our opinion. 
 
 I shall here relate another curious circum¬ 
 stance, which took place at a dinner at the 
 Hague, where, by accident, we met with 
 Marshal Augereau, the Duke de Castiglione. 
 
 In the beginning of the French revolution, 
 Augereau was a common soldier in' one of the 
 Neapolitan regiments; from which, through the 
 interest of the French ambassador, Perregou, 
 he had been discharged, and had been taken, by 
 
VENICE. 
 
 8 13 
 
 that gentleman, into his house, in the capacity 
 of fencing-master to his children. Wishing to 
 figure away in the revolution, Augereau pre¬ 
 vailed on the ambassador to give him letters of 
 introduction to the principal cities in his route 
 to France, that he might defray the expenses of 
 his journey by giving lessons to academies. 
 Being acquainted with Busienello, the Venetian 
 ambassador at Naples, he procured a letter from 
 him to my husband at Venice; who was a great 
 proficient in the said art, and one of the best 
 swordsmen in all Italy. 
 
 When we were at the Hague, on entering one 
 day the house of a gentleman, with whom we 
 were to dine, he introduced us, by name, to 
 Augereau. His Venetian acquaintance knew 
 thegeneral immediately; but, not wishing to hurt 
 his feelings, my husband did not remind him of 
 their former acquaintance at Venice. However, 
 being seated opposite each other at table, Au¬ 
 gereau said to him—“ Good God! I did not at 
 first recollect you. How happy am I to see 
 you again ! Don’t you recollect going round, 
 at the academy, with your silver plate, to col¬ 
 lect the money for me, from the friends whom 
 you were good enough to interest in my behalf 
 at Venice ? Come, come, Sir, don’t be ashamed 
 of having done a good action. I have not for- 
 
314 
 
 Venice. 
 
 got it, I assure you ; and, while you are in this 
 country, I hope you and your better half will 
 favour me with your company at my residence.” 
 Count Zenobio was also one of the party. 
 
 We could not, however, avail ourselves of his 
 hospitality, as we had a prior engagement; but 
 we frequently met in the evening at Augereau’s. 
 Venice was often the subject of our conversation. 
 When we were one day talking of Buonaparte’s 
 unprincipled sale of that republic to Austria, 
 “ Ma foi,” said Augereau, “ ce coquin nous a 
 tout trompe! In saving him, the French 
 republic upset itself. Had the Directory but 
 ordered him to be shot on his landing from 
 Egypt, it would have immortalized itself; but 
 it was an unwieldy body, without a head ; and 
 that was the reason whySieyes would notbecome 
 one of them. I foresee we shall return to what 
 we were ; if we do not, indeed, sink into some¬ 
 thing worse ! Buonaparte has deceived us all; 
 and, though he has forgotten the hospitality of 
 the Venetian Republic towards the French, I 
 shall ever feel grateful for the civilities I once 
 received from one of its subjects. Your sorrow 
 at beholding the degraded state of your once 
 happy country does infinite honour, both to 
 your head and your heart.” 
 
 I record this anecdote, for the purpose of 
 
VENICE. 
 
 315 
 
 doing justice to the memory of Augereau : as 
 it evinces feelings, which are but too seldom 
 to be met with in those who have risen above 
 their primitive condition in life. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 Venice. 
 
 THE BUONAPARTE FAMILY IN THE VENETIAN 
 TERRITORY. 
 
 My interview ‘with General Menou . Buonaparte's Prepa¬ 
 rations at Boulogne for the Invasion of England . Is 
 
 called the Arch Drover of Italy . And why . His 
 
 Interview at Malghera with the Marquis di Solari . 
 
 Interesting account of the Inhabitants of the Sette Communi 
 
 . Their Language . Their mode of living . Produce 
 
 of the Soil . Their Habitations . Mild Government of 
 
 the Prefect Solari . Ludicrous Anecdote . A hint to the 
 
 Secretary of State for the Home Department . And a 
 
 Caution to certain Mural Defacers . The Authoress refuses 
 
 to betray the interests of her country . And is therefore 
 
 placed under Surveillance . But escapes from Treviso to 
 
 Venice . And thence to Malta. 
 
 I concluded the last chapter, with an ac¬ 
 count of my interviews, witli Barras and with 
 Augereau. I shall commence the present, with 
 an anecdote which was related to me by ano¬ 
 ther of Buonaparte’s generals. 
 
316 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 In the course of my conversations with Gene¬ 
 ral Menou, whilst he was governor of Venice, 
 he more than once assured me, that of all 
 Buonaparte’s lunatic projects, the notion of 
 invading England, and the idea of seducing 
 Russia, while he was in Egypt, to co-operate 
 with him in the conquest of India, were by far 
 the most preposterous, and the least likely to be 
 accomplished. Menou said, that Buonaparte 
 had been more indebted to the folly of Nelson, 
 in suffering him to get to Egypt, and to the 
 British cruizers in allowing him to land, on his 
 return therefrom, than to any thing that the 
 French nation had done for him j for that if, in 
 both instances, the English fleet had done then- 
 duty, he never would have escaped. “ Your 
 Rodney, and your Howe, find your Hood, 
 would not,” he would say, “ have been so 
 complaisant to the French general.” 
 
 Indeed, that Buonaparte was never serious in 
 his much boasted project of invading this coun¬ 
 try, may be gathered from the following facts, 
 which took place during my stay at Paris, 
 where I arrived shortly after Lord Nelson had 
 attempted the bombardment of the port of Bou¬ 
 logne. A task, by the bye, of no very easy 
 accomplishment; first, on account of the town 
 itself being beyond the reach of the ships of 
 
VENICE. 
 
 317 
 
 war; and, secondly, because no vessel drawing 
 more than three or four feet water, can ever 
 approach near enough for that purpose. 
 
 However, the Hero of the Nile did every 
 thing that skill and bravery could accomplish ; 
 and the effects of his operations were pretty 
 apparent, from the fact of the few gun-boats in 
 that port, which had been prepared for the 
 invasion of Old England, having been taken 
 out of the water, and drawn upon dry land, 
 and placed in a state of security, for fear of a 
 second Nelsonian attack. 
 
 At Paris, the success of the invasion of 
 England was looked upon as a dead cer¬ 
 tainty. In their mind’s eye, the badauds of 
 “ ma bonne ville ” already fancied they beheld 
 the Corsican making his triumphant entry 
 into their capital, loaded with the treasures of 
 the Bank of England, and followed by the 
 machinery and the manufactures aud the other 
 spoils, of this the modern Carthage—about to 
 be destroyed ! 
 
 Amongst the number of the duped, was the 
 Venetian patrician Niccoletto Cornara, who 
 ventured to lay a considerable bet, that, on a 
 certain day, Buonaparte would set oft' on his 
 march from Dover for London. From the 
 experience I had had of the French General’s 
 
I 
 
 318 VENICE. 
 
 menacing character, and knowing that, though 
 he had accomplished many great things, he had 
 left still greater ones unaccomplished, I ven¬ 
 tured to take the bet; and, the better to 
 convince myself of the real state of things, I 
 determined on setting off from Paris on a visit 
 to the coast, where these weighty pieparations 
 were said to be in such a state of forwardness. 
 My love of England, and my knowledge of the 
 character of the brave inmates of her wooden 
 walls, ambitious as I knew Buonaparte to be, 
 would not allow me to give credit to the rumour, 
 that he entertained a serious design of making 
 the attempt; more especially as I well knew 
 that at that very moment, his attentions were 
 directed to the secret movements of the cabinet 
 of Vienna, and that he had just succeeded in 
 getting into his possession a most important 
 despatch, intended for the Austrian Ambas¬ 
 sador, Count Cobenzel; and which despatch 
 has, I believe, never been made public, 
 
 But to proceed. Scarcely had I, with my 
 husband, proceeded a few paces on the road to 
 Boulogne, before we met a considerable num¬ 
 ber of troops, with ammunition waggons, re¬ 
 trograding from the field of action, and 
 marching in a totally different direction. In 
 consequence of his knowledge of the above- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 siy 
 
 mentioned treachery towards the Austrian am¬ 
 bassador, my husband, at seeing this, exclaimed, 
 “ These troops are going to Vienna!” We 
 stopped our carriage, for the purpose of letting 
 them pass, and interrogated some of them, as 
 to whence they came, and whither they were 
 going? They replied, that they had come 
 from the ports of Boulogne and Calais ; that 
 all the troops, after Nelson had paid them a 
 visit at the former place, had been disbanded ; 
 and that they believed they were going to 
 semestre. 
 
 We continued our journey to Boulogne; and, 
 on our arrival, we immediately went down to 
 the port to see this second edition of the 
 Spanish Armada, upon which Buonaparte had 
 expended twelve millions of livres ; when we 
 found the whole of it to consist of seventeen 
 gunboats capable of carrying from thirty-five to 
 forty men each, with two small field pieces! 
 
 This was the extent of the mighty force 
 which had been put into requisition, and, which 
 had kept John Bull in such a state of agitation ! 
 The whole, too, as I have already observed, 
 were safely drawn up on dry land. 
 
 We dined at the table d’bdte; and, on our 
 telling the story of our having come all the 
 way from Paris to witness the embarkation. 
 
320 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 we were heartily laughed at, for our pains. 
 “ Ah!” said one, “ you are not the only dupes 
 by hundreds, who have been taking this wild- 
 goose journey.” “ No, no,” said another, 
 “ the sea is not our element: the Pas de Calais 
 is not Mount Cenis, where we were suffered to 
 pass uninterruptedly ; nor is it the Bochetta at 
 Genoa, where the Austrians, with a couple of 
 pieces of cannon, might have destroyed the 
 whole French Army; nor is John Bull, or 
 the English nation, like the divided people of 
 Italy!” 
 
 We next proceeded to Calais, where we found, 
 that all the preparations that had been made 
 consisted of seven boats of the same con¬ 
 struction as those at Boulogne ; and not a single 
 soldier more than was absolutely necessary to 
 garrison the town. 
 
 One thing cannot be denied; namely, that 
 the English, notwithstanding their immense 
 naval force, had little or no real and genuine 
 intelligence, as to the movements of their 
 neighbours. Had this not been the case, the 
 threatened invasion never could have produced 
 a thousandth part of the sensation on the minds 
 of the good people of England which it is 
 known to have done. For it is a fact but too 
 well established, that, excepting the intelligence 
 
VENICE. 
 
 321 
 
 which they procured from infamous hired spies, 
 the British Government gave no credence to that 
 which was afforded them by respectable private 
 individuals, who were actuated solely by a love 
 of their native country. 
 
 To my own certain knowledge, many valuable 
 hints were given to the British government, on 
 the subject of the wood-cutting commission at 
 Fiume, where the English had an exclusive 
 contract. Notwithstanding which, her enemies 
 were, all the time, felling, thick and thin, the 
 forest in the Tyrole—Aye ! and in the teeth of 
 the very commissioner Adamici, and the British 
 consul at Fiume. 
 
 In an early chapter of my work, I have cal¬ 
 led Buonaparte the “ Arch-drover of Italy 
 and, that he is richly entitled to the appellation, 
 the following facts will shew. Not that I wish 
 to have it inferred, that he has not, per fas aut 
 nefas, rendered numerous benefits to the French 
 nation, and to the cause of liberty and of civi¬ 
 lization. It cannot, however, be denied, that 
 he grossly deceived and betrayed the unfortu¬ 
 nate people of Italy. 
 
 Previously to his coming to Venice, Buona¬ 
 parte stopped at Malghera. Here it was, that 
 he decreed the dissolution of the aristocracy, or, 
 more properly speaking, of the oligarchical re- 
 vol. i. y 
 
VENICE. 
 
 .‘322 
 
 public ; commanded the imprisonment of the 
 three inquisitori di stato, and installed, as he made 
 the credulous people believe, pro tempore , the 
 democratical government; for he well knew, 
 that an absolute monarchy and a plebeian de¬ 
 mocracy are equally vicious. 
 
 That neither Napoleon, nor any one of his 
 family, were democrats at heart, I think I have 
 already shewn, and shall hereafter still further 
 substantiate, out of their own mouths, and from 
 documents which cannot be disproved, in my 
 account of the exploits of the Buonaparte Fa¬ 
 mily in the Milanese territories. Antecedently 
 to this revolution in the Venetian republic, a 
 secret article—and a most atrocious one it was— 
 had been entered into, at the peace of Campo 
 Formio, between France and Austria, for the 
 sale of the Venetians. Where, then, was the 
 necessity for the democratizing of this govern¬ 
 ment ? And, when he had effected his purpose, 
 why be ashamed of a democratrical representa¬ 
 tive ; which he refused to send to that congress, 
 still further to make the credulous Venetians 
 believe, that they might stipulate for their inde¬ 
 pendence when he had already sold them, by 
 ordering one of the most distinguished of the 
 Venetian nobility to be sent thither, as in 
 former times, under the old decripit oligarchical 
 authority which he so vehemently reprobated ? 
 
VENICE. 
 
 323 
 
 His express words, when Orazio Lavezzari wait¬ 
 ed on him in the Terra Ferma (for he never 
 came to Venice until years after), and asked 
 him, “ who are we to send to treat at Campo 
 Formio,—one of the new order ?” were “ Bah, 
 no, no, no! non voglio nessuno di quella 
 canaglia; send a noble patrizio, and do you 
 accompany him. You have been resident in 
 England, have you not?” “Yes,” said La¬ 
 vezzari. 
 
 Previously to the institution of the municipal 
 officers, Buonaparte ordered the list of names 
 to be sent to him ; but many individuals of res¬ 
 pectability, who were supposed by him to be of 
 the French party, merely in consequence of 
 their having spoken freely as to the necessity 
 of the republic changing its political system 
 according to circumstances, and who had no 
 wish for French interference, and much less 
 for the total overthrow of the republican au¬ 
 thority, when they were called upon and asked 
 whether they would become members of the 
 municipality—one of them in particular declin¬ 
 ed, and, striking out his name, left Venice and 
 retired to his country seat, for fear of being 
 compelled to accept the office. 
 
 This took place in the year 1796. In 1808 , 
 when Buonaparte was made King of Italy, this 
 
 y 2 
 
324 
 
 V E N I C E. 
 
 gentleman, the Marquis Antonio Ciovion Solari, 
 was made vice-prefect. The first time Buona¬ 
 parte ever saw him, instantly recollecting the 
 name, he said, “ Ah, Marquis ! I remember ; 
 you declined being a member of the munici¬ 
 pality !” Solari had nearly forgotten the circum¬ 
 stance, when Buonaparte repeated, “ Yes, yes ! 
 you scratched out your name, though Cornaro, 
 Dolfin, Pisani, and many other of your friends 
 and acquaintances were among the number. 
 Well, well, they are all dead, and you are alive. 
 I suppose you had your reasons for refusing ; 
 and I have mine for now appointing you to 
 serve the office of prefect.” It is a curious 
 fact, that, in these matters, the memory of Buo¬ 
 naparte scarcely ever failed him. 
 
 This gentleman, the Marquis di Solari, was 
 appointed to the government in the mountains, 
 called the Sette Coinmuni, exclusively inhabited 
 by the descendants of the Cimbri, who, being 
 beaten and dispersed near Verona, by Marius, 
 a hundred and one years before the Christian 
 aera, betook themselves to those mountains ; and, 
 up to this very day, have preserved their ancient 
 customs, as well as their ancient language, 
 which a good deal resembles the Danish and the 
 Low Dutch. The women and children, who 
 have never quitted their Alpine situation, nei- 
 
VENICE. 
 
 325 
 
 ther speak nor understand the Italian; though 
 the spot in which they live is only at the dis¬ 
 tance of about thirty miles from Vicenza. 
 
 The men, who, during the winter months, 
 are obliged to descend into the vallies, for the 
 purpose of procuring food for their cattle, (every 
 thing on the earth being frozen up for eight 
 months out of the twelve,) speak the Venetian 
 dialect. Together, they form a population of 
 from six-and-thirty to forty thousand souls. 
 For the most part, they are shepherds. The 
 country they inhabit produces scarcely any 
 thing in the mountainous parts, excepting a 
 a little barley, and fire-wood. The small por¬ 
 tion of the country which is flat is planted with 
 tobacco, which, since the revolution, they are 
 obliged to sell to the government; whereas, 
 before that period, the Venetian republic bene¬ 
 volently exempted these poor mountaineers 
 from all kinds of public taxes, and, on account 
 of the sterility of their soil, granted them, 
 into the bargain, several very important privi¬ 
 leges ; deeming them sufficiently taxed al¬ 
 ready by nature, in the deprivation of the 
 common necessaries of life ; such as bread and 
 every kind of vegetables ; which articles they 
 are obliged to fetch, either from Bassano, at 
 a distance of five-and-twenty miles, or from 
 
326 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 Vicenza; as they are more than two thousand 
 feet above the level of the sea. 
 
 Indeed, the spot is considered the very Sibe¬ 
 ria of Italy. The snow begins to fall in Sep¬ 
 tember 5 and often continues on the ground 
 until the month of May, and sometimes as late 
 as June. To enable them to go to church or 
 walk about, the shoes of the people are pre¬ 
 pared, in the same manner as those of the 
 horses are, which have to travel over ice. In 
 their manners and customs, they somewhat 
 resemble the feudal slaves in Poland and Russia. 
 In their houses, as well as in their persons, they 
 are remarkably slovenly and dirty. 
 
 There is only one house built of brick in 
 the whole district; and that house is situated 
 in Asiago, the capital of the Sette Com- 
 muni. The rest are composed of mud and 
 stones, and are thatched with rushes or straw. 
 The cold is sometimes so intense, that the oil is 
 laid in large lumps before the fire to dissolve, 
 before it can be used. The wines and spirits 
 are sure to be genuine ; for the watery particles 
 freeze, and the pure spirit only remains. The in¬ 
 habitants are obliged to cook all their provisions 
 with snow water. A small spring runs through 
 the town of Asiago, but the people bathe, water 
 their cattle, and empty their cloacas into it; 
 
VENICE. 
 
 327 
 
 which makes it useless for any particular pur¬ 
 pose j so that the very salutary operation of 
 washing can only be performed during the three 
 or four summer months. 
 
 The reason why the inhabitants are allowed 
 the privilege of planting tobacco, which is 
 in general prohibited by the Austrian and 
 French authorities, is because it is so particu¬ 
 larly beneficial to the population ; as the little 
 ploughable land which they possess, is, in a 
 twelve-fold degree, more productive in this 
 article, then it would be in any other grain, 
 root, or seed; and supplies them with the 
 means of procuring money, wherewith to pur¬ 
 chase the first necessaries of life. They are, 
 however, as I have just said, obliged to dispose of 
 the whole of the said tobacco to the government. 
 
 In fact, these people, when living under the 
 Venetian government, formed a sort of inde¬ 
 pendent little republic ; and scraped together a 
 livelihood, as much by smuggling, as by their 
 Alpine industry. When the French became 
 masters of Italy, these poor creatures were put 
 on the same footing with the Corsican’s other 
 Italian subjects, and subjected to the general 
 system of taxation ; as well as to that most 
 terrible of all scourges, the conscription ! 
 
 As I have before observed, the Marquis di 
 
 y 4 
 
328 
 
 VE N I C E. 
 
 Solari had the misfortune to be sent amongst 
 these people, for the purpose of organizing the 
 said system. As may naturally be imagined, 
 some of the poor creatures resisted the new 
 order of things, and at a small village, called 
 La Mara, revolted, and refused to allow the con¬ 
 scription to take place. Being excellent marks¬ 
 men, they fired on the authorities, and compelled 
 them, for a time, to abandon the idea of recruit¬ 
 ing among them. Their own clergy and other 
 of the inhabitants were selected by the French, 
 to point out the youths who were qualified to 
 be drawn. But being, like the Jews, all re¬ 
 lated to one another, by marriages and inter¬ 
 marriages, not a man of them would they give 
 up ; and the authorities were obliged to desist, 
 until they had procured from Vicenza a military 
 force strong enough to protect the civil powers 
 from being shot at. Besides, as these moun¬ 
 tains are within gun-shot of the Bavarian terri¬ 
 tories, to which the poor creatures fled when¬ 
 ever they were in dread of being punished, it 
 was found prudent, even when the military had 
 been called in to aid the civil authorities, to 
 proceed with the greatest caution. 
 
 In the mean time, the prefect Solari, who 
 was a very humane and excellent man, went 
 amongst them at the risk of his life, amidst a 
 

 VENICE. 329 
 
 volley of shot, and, expostulating with them 
 on the consequence of their futile resistance, 
 persuaded them to return to their duty; kindly 
 promising to use his best exertions with the 
 head of the authorities at Milan, to get them 
 exempted from the payment of several heavy 
 taxes. 
 
 When Buonaparte was crowned King of Italy, 
 the Prefect Solari was obliged to repair to 
 Milan, with the rest of the magistrates of the 
 Bacchillione ; and, though the above affair had 
 taken place in 1796 or 1797> when the new 
 monarch was only a general in the army, yet, 
 when he again saw the Prefect of Asiago, in 
 the year 1808, he immediately recollected the 
 above circumstance, and talked over the whole 
 matter with the Marquis. 
 
 Speaking relatively, the inhabitants of Asiago, 
 considering their situation, are in a state of 
 ease ; and some few of them are rich both in 
 lands and in cattle. They, however, live 
 nearly in a state of nature. They are unac¬ 
 quainted with the use of table linen, and very 
 few of the men wear collars to their shirts. 
 Some of them, who had been educated at the 
 University of Padua, and at other public se¬ 
 minaries, on their return to Asiago, endea¬ 
 voured to introduce amongst them the grada- 
 
330 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 tion between master and servant, so indis¬ 
 pensable in civilized society ; but they were 
 obliged to relinquish the project, as none of 
 them would stay with masters, who would not 
 permit them to take their meals at the same 
 time, and at the same table, as themselves. 
 
 There never was an instance of an ox being 
 killed in the whole Sette Communi. The only 
 animal food consumed by them is that of sheep, 
 very young calves, and goats. Their trade is in 
 the above cattle, and in a few cows. They 
 make very little butter, but save all the milk for 
 the purpose of being made into cheese. 
 
 Providence has bestowed on the people of the 
 Sette Communi strong minds, and a large portion 
 of natural genius. But, they are artful, cun¬ 
 ning, and revengeful. They have retained the 
 broad-featured countenance of the northern 
 nations, and have high cheek-bones, small eyes, 
 and rather flattish noses. They are above the 
 middle stature, and have large stout limbs. 
 The women are rather of a masculine cast. 
 They wait at table, and scarcely ever sit down 
 to eat, until their husbands have finished their 
 meals. 
 
 In the beginning of September, such of the 
 natives as are not mechanics quit the moun¬ 
 tains with their cattle, to find forage till the 
 
VENICE. 
 
 331 
 
 month of May; when they again return to them. 
 At one time, they were accustomed to make 
 violent irruptions into the territories of the 
 Venetians, wherever they could find pasture for 
 their cattle; but now they are under the ne¬ 
 cessity of paying for whatever they consume. 
 
 During these months, the people of the Sette 
 Communi resemble a nation of Amazonians; for 
 the men and boys are all absent, taking charge 
 of their flocks. The country partakes much of 
 the appearance of the barren Alpine mountains 
 in Switzerland. Every thing in the shape of a 
 carriage is drawn by mules; as some of the 
 passes will not admit the narrowest two-wheeled 
 conveyance, and are, in the autumn, on ac¬ 
 count of the torrents that overflow the gravelly 
 valleys, and again in spring, when the snow and 
 ice are thawing, altogether impassable. 
 
 And such, indeed, was the precise situation 
 of the Sette Communi, when the first prefect 
 Solari took possession of his semi-barbarous 
 situation. For nearly twenty days was he de¬ 
 tained, with sixty of these animals, men and 
 beast, at the foot of the mountains near the 
 Brenta, which run down to the Tirol, at a most 
 uncomfortable village inn. And, when at last 
 he arrived at Asiago, the house destined for 
 him—which, as I have before said, was the 
 
332 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 only one in the place built of brick, and which 
 belonged to a M. Bonhomo, residing at Vi¬ 
 cenza—was so much out of repair, that the 
 first night the worthy Prefect and his family 
 slept in it, they were within an ace of being 
 drowned in their beds, from the torrents of rain 
 which fell into every apartment. And, in this 
 state were they obliged to live, until a house 
 could be built, suitable for the reception of the 
 first magistrate ; but, at his own expense ! 
 
 In the mean time, the government directed, 
 that the house of M. Bonhomo should be made 
 tenantable and water-proof; but, as these orders 
 were not accompanied with that necessary in¬ 
 gredient Vargent , they were of no avail, and 
 the prefect had no alternative, but either to 
 live in the streets, or to defray the expense of 
 the said repairs himself. 
 
 Again: in consequence of the frost, no 
 mortar could be used ; and therefore was the 
 Marquis Solari obliged to build entirely with 
 wood. So that, what with the expense of the 
 building; what with the expense of the journey; 
 what with the damage done to his furniture; 
 and what with the quantity of china, glass, and 
 earthen ware that was smashed into pieces— 
 and for which, though promised, he was never 
 indemnified—at the end of his prefectureship, 
 
VENICE. 
 
 333 
 
 the worthy Marquis of Solari, had the morti¬ 
 fication of finding himself some thousands of 
 livres minus by his official appointment! 
 
 “ Ahi! misero chi speme in mortal cose pone ! ’ 
 
 The mud habitations, or rather the wretch¬ 
 ed huts or stables in which men, women, and 
 children are all huddled together, are covered, 
 as I before observed, with rushes. To make fast 
 the extremity of these rushes, large planks, pro¬ 
 jecting about two feet into the streets, are attach¬ 
 ed ; which planks not only serve to carry off the 
 water, but act as a shelter from the rain to walk 
 under. The fire-place is in the middle of the 
 apartment; and, as the houses have no chim¬ 
 neys, the smoke collects, of course, on the 
 walls and ceilings, which are as black as coal 
 pits : consequently, the water that falls from 
 the projecting boards is as black as ink. 
 
 The clerk of the prefecture being one day sud¬ 
 denly caught in the rain, took shelter under one 
 of these boards ; and, not being aware of the 
 internal construction of the habitation, he re¬ 
 turned home in the utmost amazement; de¬ 
 claring, that, though he had been a great travel¬ 
 ler, he had never before been in a country, where 
 it rained ink ; for the drops that had fallen had 
 actually died his coat and his inexpressibles, of 
 
334 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 a jet, as profound as is the Blacking of Mr. 
 Turner, of Mr. Warren, of Mr. Martin, or of 
 any of those shining characters, the nigrescent 
 qualities of whose respective wares are chaunted 
 in lofty verse, and are so strikingly proclaimed, 
 in chalk, and in words really and truly sesqui¬ 
 pedalian, on all the walls of all our highways 
 and byways : and, for resorting to which mode 
 of obtaining celebrity, they, individually and 
 collectively, deserve, according to my hum¬ 
 ble opinion, the attention of our present ex¬ 
 cellent Secretary of State for the Home De¬ 
 partment, and of their vigilant worships of Bow 
 Street and elsewhere. All I shall say is, that, 
 if there be not at present any regulation of po¬ 
 lice, capable of reaching these Mural Defacers 
 of some of the handsomest edifices in and about 
 the first metropolis in the world, it is high time 
 there should be one! The nuisance ought 
 forthwith to be abated. Of such men I say, 
 
 “ Hie Niger est ; hunc tu Romane caveto !” 
 
 In calling the public attention to this most 
 offensive practice, I have done no more than my 
 duty —liberavi anirnam meam ! 
 
 But, to return to my story. The knight of 
 the quill, observing his coat and his inexpressi¬ 
 bles in this filthy condition, was actually on the 
 
VENICE. 
 
 335 
 
 point of setting down to send to the celebrated 
 M. Chaptal at Paris, an account of his new and 
 most wonderful discovery, when he was let into 
 the secret by one of his fellow clerks. He 
 thereupon laughed heartily at his mistake; and 
 ever after, when ink was wanted in the office, 
 the clerks would humorously say, “ let us go 
 under the projections and get some ; for it is of 
 a deeper black there, than any that we can 
 elsewhere procure.” 
 
 It is most unaccountable, that, out of so 
 many thousand travellers, who have been in 
 Italy, none of them, as I recollect, have hitherto 
 had the curiosity to visit this, the Siberia of 
 Italy; or given to the world a description of 
 its singular inhabitants. At least, I do not 
 remember to have seen them mentioned in any 
 of the numerous books of travels, as they are 
 called, that have recently been published. From 
 their very ancient origin, they appear to me to 
 deserve a particular notice. The description I 
 have given of them will be found strikingly 
 correct: and I think I shall be allowed to have 
 had some opportunities of becoming acquainted 
 with this people, when I state, that I have 
 done what, I will venture to say, no woman in 
 England but myself has done; namely, lived 
 amongst them during the space of fourteen 
 
336 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 long months, without so much as once descend¬ 
 ing the mountains, until, as my countrymen are 
 accustomed to say, I quitted them “forgood.” 
 
 During the long winter evenings, it is not at 
 all uncommon, at Asiago, to be favoured with 
 visits from a whole troop of hungry foxes. 
 However, the danger to be apprehended from 
 them is generally avoided, by the timely howl¬ 
 ing of the dogs ; who scent them at a con¬ 
 siderable distance, and thereby afford the in¬ 
 habitants time to shut themselves up in their 
 houses; whence they fire upon the crafty ani¬ 
 mals, through their oiled-paper windows ; for 
 few indeed of the houses have glass ones. 
 
 The people of Asiago bear a striking re¬ 
 semblance to the feudal slaves of Russia and 
 Poland. In one of the villages, called Enego, 
 some straw hats are manufactured. While the 
 Marquis di Solari was Prefect, from the liberal 
 commissions which he gave them for his nume¬ 
 rous Venetian friends and acquaintances, and 
 from the endeavours which he made, at his 
 own expense, to instruct the natives in imitating 
 those which are manufactured by the Floren¬ 
 tines, he succeeded in getting three completed, 
 in time to be sent to Milan and placed in the 
 public exhibition, with the other specimens of 
 the manufactures of Italy. One of them was 
 
VENICE. 337 
 
 presented by his lady to the Vice-queen of 
 Italy; the second was given to the Countess 
 Warum, her female in waiting; and the third 
 to Count Brema, Secretary of State ; and all 
 which were most graciously accepted. 
 
 Grieved, however, am I to announce to the 
 world, that this worthy and upright magistrate, 
 the Marquis Antonio Govion Broglio Solari, fell 
 a sacrifice, in consequence of his happening to 
 be the husband of a British-born subject, who 
 had scorned to betray her native country; who 
 was known to have been, at one time, une 
 attachee of a great personage at the Bourbon 
 court; and who had humanely interested her¬ 
 self in behalf of the unfortunate sufferers by 
 Napoleon’s accursed Milan and Berlin decrees. 
 
 And, having once more mentioned these 
 decrees, I think I cannot do better than close 
 my account of Venice ; as well as the first 
 volume of my labours, with the following in¬ 
 teresting particulars, relative thereto. 
 
 The aforesaid lady was sent for to Milan ; 
 when it was proposed to her, that she should 
 accompany some of the agents of the French 
 Government to England ; there to give immense 
 commissions for goods, in all the different manu¬ 
 facturing towns of England, Scotland, and Ire¬ 
 land. A considerable sum was to be advanced ; 
 
 VOL. 1 . 
 
 z 
 
338 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 but the bulk of the articles, when finished, were 
 to be left on the hands of the manufacturers ; 
 which, it was calculated, would occasion a 
 general ferment and even disturbance, at one 
 and the same time throughout the united king¬ 
 dom, and lead, by the assistance of certain 
 individuals well bribed for the purpose, to par¬ 
 tial, if not to general commotion and rebellion ; 
 and in consequence of which state of com¬ 
 motion, the Government would be driven to 
 make peace—“ all for the good,” as the parties 
 in question said, “ of Old England.” 
 
 To which the said lady gave this sensible 
 and dignified reply—“ That she was too well 
 acquainted with the spirit of the British Govern¬ 
 ment to suppose it could be driven by the ine¬ 
 briety of a rude mob, to conclude a peace 
 which should be disgraceful and ruinous to the 
 nation.” 
 
 She was thereupon answered—“ That there 
 were many persons in England, and even in the 
 House of Commons, who were adverse to the 
 war.” 
 
 “ It required no ghost,” she replied, “ to 
 bring me that intelligence; since I am con¬ 
 vinced of it better than you can tell me, as 
 long as it continued to be a political war ; which 
 never can, and never will be generally popular, 
 in a commercial country like England, the 
 
VENICE. 
 
 339 
 
 emporium and the monopolizer of all the com- 
 merce of the world. These very partizans of 
 whom you are speaking no longer exist; all 
 are now united in the common cause of their 
 country. Your decrees from Berlin and from 
 Milan, have changed the very character of the 
 war. It is no longer a political one. These 
 fallacious measures of yours have made it a 
 national one ; and by that step you have done 
 more for England, than England ever before did 
 for herself. You have united all parties. There 
 is now but one voice. Your decrees for burn¬ 
 ing her manufactures whenever they shall be 
 found on the Continent, have drawn all the 
 waters of the three islands to one point; and, 
 until you can contrive to have a navy superior 
 to the navy of England, their waters will ex¬ 
 tinguish all the fires that you may think proper 
 to kindle.” 
 
 Thus spake the aforesaid lady. “ You 
 forget,” replied those who heard her, “ that 
 you are now an Italian subject.” 
 
 “ And therefore,” rejoined she, con molto 
 spirito , “ I speak as an honest British subject 
 ought to speak. I should be unworthy of my 
 birthright and of your confidence, if I were to 
 deceive you. Whosever subject I may be, I 
 have ever acted upon principle, as well as from 
 
 z 2 
 
VENICE. 
 
 340 
 
 inclination. ‘ Ubi bom, ibi patria.’ I certainly 
 wish well to Italy; but I never will basely assist 
 in the destruction of the country that gave me 
 birth, and in which I first beheld the light of 
 heaven!” 
 
 “ You take up the matter too seriously, Ma¬ 
 dam !” 
 
 “ I am very glad you think so, Sir. I am 
 accustomed to speak plainly. I beg, therefore, 
 that I may be allowed to return quietly to 
 Venice.” 
 
 “ Then you are determined to do nothing 
 for a country which has so long cherished you 
 with a maternal affection ?” 
 
 “ If my humble abilities could be advan¬ 
 tageously and honourably exerted, my amour 
 propre would induce me to serve, not only the 
 country of my adoption, but every other coun¬ 
 try. Women, however, in these matters, cut 
 but a miserable figure !” 
 
 “ But, not women like you, Madam !” 
 
 “ Then, Sir, if you allow me to possess a 
 grain of common sense, I shall consider your 
 urging this matter any further as an insult to 
 my understanding.” 
 
 The person with whom I had this disagree¬ 
 able conversation then retired ; after which, I 
 heard some one in another room say “ Eh bien ! 
 
VENICE. 
 
 341 
 
 mon ami, si clle ne veux pas, que voulez-vous Jaire?” 
 The same individual speedily returned, and 
 began again, by saying— 
 
 “ I am very glad, Madam, to find that you 
 are the wife of a gentleman who is so amazingly 
 rich that a hundred thousand livres is considered 
 a trifle by you.” 
 
 “ Unfortunately, Sir, my husband is not rich. 
 The revolution has taken good care of that! 
 But his wife will never aggravate his misfortunes, 
 by compromising what is dearer to him than 
 life—his honour!” 
 
 “ Why, you were not so mighty scrupulous, 
 Madam, when you were employed by the Prin¬ 
 cess Lamballe, and by the Queen of France, 
 and by her sister, the Queen of Naples!” 
 
 “ No, Sir, I had then no reason. I was 
 permitted to take copies of the letters 1 was 
 charged with, that I might not commit myself; 
 
 I have kept them to this day, and will show you 
 them, whenever you please ; though they mere¬ 
 ly related to family matters.” 
 
 “ So you are pleased to say, Madam; and 
 of course, I must not dispute a lady’s word ! 
 But, however, suppose you return to Venice, 
 and reflect on what I have been saying to you—” 
 
 Here I stopped him short, in the middle of his 
 speech, and told him I had already sufficiently 
 
 z 3 
 
342 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 reflected upon the matter, and that nothing 
 could divert me from my determination. 
 
 “ Well, all I can say, Madam, is, that I am 
 sorry you should stand so much in your own 
 light.” 
 
 He then handed me to my carriage, and 
 I returned immediately to my husband. So 
 greatly was I agitated, and so much what had 
 occurred had changed my countenance, that 
 my man servant asked whether I was not ill, 
 and whether he should not step and get me 
 some refreshments ? I told him I was not ill. 
 I, however, was shortly after obliged to stop 
 the carriage, and take a glass of water. Indeed, 
 the bare mention of the names of the illustrious 
 persons last mentioned, and the recollection of 
 their cruel fate, has ever affected me, and con¬ 
 tinues to do so to this very hour. 
 
 On reaching home, I instantly made my hus¬ 
 band acquainted with the whole transaction ; at 
 which he was much surprised ; as he had not the 
 slightest suspicion that I had been sent for on 
 such a piece of business, but supposed it to 
 relate solely to the arrests that had taken place, 
 about that time, of all the English; and as a 
 Mr. Parr, an English gentleman, supposed to be 
 the husband of a Venetian lady, had been just 
 arrested, though a constant resident in the 
 
VENICE. 
 
 343 
 
 Venetian territories, and principally at Venice, 
 my husband conjectured that the French agents 
 wished to be informed, whether or not they 
 were British subjects ? 
 
 However, a few days after, coming from a 
 ball which was given at the theatre La Fenice, 
 an officer called at our casino ; and being in¬ 
 formed where we were gone, he waited our 
 return. Scarcely had we reached home, when 
 the said officer knocked at our door. Upon 
 which the servant said, “ O, that’s the man, 
 I suppose, who has been asking, three or four 
 times this evening, for my mistress.” It was 
 now between three or four o’clock in the morn¬ 
 ing. My husband, seizing his pistols, ran to 
 the window, and asked who was there ? Upon 
 which, the officer cried out, “ You must open 
 the door, for I want to come in.” My husband 
 was on the point of firing at the fellow, but I 
 prevailed on him to hear what he had to say in 
 defence of his extraordinary conduct. On 
 entering the casino, and seeing my husband, 
 whom he had formerly served in a menial capa¬ 
 city, when he was employed under the republic, 
 the man was so astounded, that for some mi¬ 
 nutes he could not utter a syllable. At length, 
 he stammered out, “ I am ordered to keep 
 sharp look-out upon that lady.” 
 
 z 4 
 
 a 
 
3U 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 “ Well! there she is,” said my husband, 
 taking me by the hand, “ look at her; but I 
 am now going to bed with her, and if you dare 
 to offer the smallest violence, or attempt to 
 come into the room, I will that moment blow 
 your brains out. Shew me your authority.” 
 
 “ I have none,” said the officer, “ but that 
 which I have just mentioned for he was only 
 one of the runners of the police. 
 
 On the next morning I was allowed to go 
 to my country residence at Treviso, accom¬ 
 panied by this man, who followed my footsteps, 
 even to church. For the two first days, I only 
 walked about my garden, and on the third and 
 fourth, upon the high road ; and, on my return, 
 I always gave directions to have him well taken 
 care of previous to my taking my own break¬ 
 fast. On the fifth day, he left me to take my 
 walk by myself; when, without taking any thing 
 with me but what I had on, I set off in a post- 
 chaise for Venice, and, scraping together a few 
 hundred dollars, I hired a fishing boat, as I 
 knew that the British squadron was then block¬ 
 ading the ports in the Adriatic; but, contrary 
 winds detained me in this open boat for more 
 than three days ; when I came up with Admi¬ 
 ral Fremantle’s ship, which took me to Malta; 
 from which place I wrote to my husband, and 
 
VENICE. 
 
 345 
 
 then set off for Sicily, where I continued until 
 the peace. 
 
 Whether this business was planned at Paris, 
 at Milan, or at Venice, I am unable to say ; 
 but it took place while Napoleon was in Russia. 
 A criminal process was commenced against my 
 husband ; and Heaven only knows what would 
 have been the consequence, had not a change 
 in the government happily taken place ! 
 
( 346 ) 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 THE BUONAPARTE FAMILY IN THE VENETIAN 
 TERRITORY. 
 
 Further Anecdotes illustrative of the French Ride in the Vene¬ 
 tian Territory . Anecdote of Buonaparte and St. Marks 
 
 Place . Parisian Gasconade . The Imperial White- 
 
 mashers exposed . Anecdote of Fouche and Buonaparte . 
 
 Dr. O'Meara and his “ Voice from St. Helena” . Anec¬ 
 dote of Buonaparte's Escape from Elba . General Cha¬ 
 racter of his Government in Italy . His Encouragement 
 
 of Literary Men, contrasted mith thed of another great 
 Hero. 
 
 A few more anecdotes illustrative of the con¬ 
 duct of Buonaparte towards the people of 
 Venice, and I have done. As I have already 
 stated, Buonaparte never had the courage to 
 pay a visit to that city, until he had been 
 crowned Emperor of France and King of Italy •, 
 which event took place in 1810. Nevertheless, 
 in the year 1796, shortly after he had upset and 
 
V E N ICE. 
 
 347 
 
 revolutionized the Venetian government, lie 
 caused a picture to be painted of himself and 
 staff, in which he was represented as reviewing 
 the cavalry in the Piazza di San Marco; and 
 from which picture a print was actually en¬ 
 graved and publicly sold at Paris! Now, to 
 those who know any thing of Venice, and that 
 St. Mark’s Place is paved with large broad flag¬ 
 stones, and was never intended for equestrian 
 prancings, the absurdity of the thing will be 
 sufficiently apparent. 
 
 This reminds me of another piece of Parisian 
 gasconade, which occurred while I was in Po¬ 
 land. I say “ Parisian,” for, according to their 
 own account, all Frenchmen are Parisians. 
 
 On my return to Italy from Sweden and Rus¬ 
 sia, dining one day with the Princess Lubor- 
 miski, at Warsaw, during my visit to that amia¬ 
 ble and accomplished lady, one of the party 
 was a 1 arisian traveller, whose tongue went at 
 a quicker pace than his body. Being asked, in 
 the course of conversation, how he liked the 
 city of Venice, the impudent braggart replied, 
 with the utmost sang froid, that, “ he could not 
 tell us much about Venice, as he had only 
 stopped there to change horses ! ! ” 
 
 I his anecdote I introduce by way of a cau¬ 
 tion to such of my readers as may be too much 
 
348 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 in the habit of swallowing with greedy appetite 
 every thing that is told them by the mercenary 
 advocates of the revolutionary system, respect¬ 
 ing the wonderful exploits of Buonaparte, which 
 have been so loudly trumpeted forth by indi¬ 
 viduals, who have doubtless had weighty reasons 
 for so doing; and several of them, aware of the 
 gullibility of my countrymen, and who have 
 taken for their motto the answer of Vespasian 
 to his son Titus, when the latter reproached him 
 with having laid a tax upon a certain article— 
 
 “ Lucri bonus odor, ex re qualibet— 
 
 are said to have reaped a tolerable harvest from 
 their base and filthy employ. 
 
 Thanks, however, to the native good sense 
 of my countrymen, I am happy to see that 
 they are rapidly returning to their sober senses, 
 and that the writings of the whole train of 
 Imperial White-washers are sinking into that 
 contempt, which the utter worthlessness of the 
 trash they have been imposing upon the public, 
 so loudly called for. 
 
 That Buonaparte did more mischief in the 
 course of his reign than can be redeemed for 
 centuries, and that he is more to be condemned 
 for the good which he left undone, than for the 
 evil which he accomplished, are facts which 
 
VENICE. 
 
 349 
 
 cannot be denied. It must, nevertheless, be 
 granted by all, that an individual who had risen 
 from nothing, to such an unexampled pitch of 
 domination, must have been in possession of 
 most extraordinary talents. Indeed, not to 
 accord to him an amazing tact, in discriminating 
 the objects that could be rendered most con¬ 
 ducive to his several views of aggrandizement, 
 would be the height of folly and of ignorance. 
 
 I like not to disturb the dead. I must, how¬ 
 ever, be here permitted to make a short de¬ 
 gression. Since the masterly castigation which 
 “ Le Docteur ” O’Meara’s white-washing per¬ 
 formance recently met with from a most 
 able quarterly critic, it is with considerable 
 reluctance that I am induced to “ draw its frail¬ 
 ties from their dread abode j” but “ Monsieur 
 Le Docteur ” appears to me—to speak in the 
 mildest terms—to have been, in one instance, 
 so completely imposed upon by the Imperial 
 hoaxer, while at St. Helena, that I cannot 
 withstand the temptation of referring to it 
 
 In page 163 of the first volume, of his 
 “ Voice from St. Helena ,” Buonaparte is made 
 to say to the Doctor, “ Louche is a miscreant 
 of all colours, a priest, a terrorist, and one 
 who took an active part in many bloody scenes 
 in the revolution. He is a man who can worm 
 
350 
 
 V E N I C E. 
 
 all your secrets out of you, with an air of calm¬ 
 ness and unconcern. He is very rich, but his 
 riches were badly acquired. There was a tax 
 upon gambling-houses in Paris; but, as it was 
 an infamous way of gaining money, I did not 
 like to profit by it, and therefore ordered, that 
 the amount of the tax should be appropriated 
 to an hospital for the poor. It amounted to 
 some millions ; but Fouche, who had the col¬ 
 lecting of the impost, put many of them into 
 his own pockets, and it was impossible for me 
 to discover the real yearly sum total.” 
 
 Now, that Fouche was the infamous character 
 which the moral imperial hoaxer here represents 
 him to have been, little doubt can, I believe, be 
 entertained, since he was the active instrument 
 of most of Buonaparte’s own atrocious misdeeds: 
 so much so, that the latter did not dare to remove 
 him from the office which he held, for fear of 
 his disclosing some of the many enormities 
 which he had directed him to put into execu¬ 
 tion : however, at last, to get rid of this worse than 
 bourreau, Buonaparte sent him ambassador to 
 Rome, with the title of Duke d’Otranto. Now, 
 if Fouche was the “ miscreant of all colours ” 
 which Buonaparte represents him to have been, 
 what a superlative “ miscreant ” must the man 
 have been, who could have promoted such a 
 
VENICE. 
 
 351 
 
 monster of infamy to the post of ambassador, 
 and advanced him to a dukedom ! 
 
 As to Fouche’s having appropriated the mo¬ 
 ney arising from the plunder of the gaming 
 houses, “ to an hospital for the poor,” it is 
 false— -falcissimo —as the greater part of Jose¬ 
 phine’s revenue, which Buonaparte allows to 
 have been very large, was drawn from that 
 source of infamy, and Fouche was charged with 
 the task of exacting from the gaming houses, 
 for that purpose, a certain weekly sum, which 
 was regularly transmitted by him, every Mon¬ 
 day morning, into the hands of the aforesaid 
 “ most virtuous queen.” So much for Buona¬ 
 parte’s not liking to profit by such an “ infamous 
 mode of getting money ! ” In charity to “ Le 
 Docteur ,” I am obliged to consider him as the 
 greatest hoaxee —(may I coin the word?)—in 
 Christendom! 
 
 The truth is, that no work was ever less cal¬ 
 culated, than the “ Voice from St. Helena, 
 to give the world correct impressions, with re¬ 
 gard to the real character of the whole Buona¬ 
 parte race, from brother Jerome up to the parent 
 stock, “ la Madre Letizia,” whose piety, the 
 Doctor telis the good people of England, is so 
 amazingly great, that the old lady’s thoughts 
 are “ entirely divided between God and her son!” 
 
352 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 And how, indeed, should the Doctor’s book be 
 otherwise ? Were not nearly all his facts taken 
 down from the mouth of the murderer of the 
 Duke d’Enghien himself? Would it not, 
 therefore, be just as great a piece of folly to be¬ 
 lieve them, as it would have been in the jury 
 who recently tried the assassin Thurtell, to have 
 acquitted him, on the solemn asseveration of— 
 “ I am innocent; so help me, God ?” 
 
 That theNapoleon fever is greatly abated, and 
 that the pulse of the people has returned to 
 its true beat, the Doctor must, by this time, be 
 pretty well convinced. He has done wisely in 
 not attempting a reply to the strictures to which 
 I have alluded; for facts are stubborn things, 
 which cannot be got over by empty assertions. 
 Since their appearance, the “ Voice from St. He¬ 
 lena” has become— “vox, et prseterea nihil.” 
 I assert fearlessly, that my readers will find, in 
 my next volume, under the head of “ The Buo¬ 
 naparte Family in the Milanese territory,” a 
 more faithful history of the rise, progress, de¬ 
 cline, and fall of that family, than they will do 
 in all the writings of all Napoleon’s numerous 
 thick and thin panegyrists and defenders. 
 
 I am not setting myself as the apologist of 
 Sir Hudson Lowe. His best praise is to be 
 found in the abuse that has been heaped on him 
 
VENICE. 
 
 353 
 
 by the agents of the fugitive from Elba: but 
 this I will say, that all the whinings and whim¬ 
 perings about “ barbarous treatment,” come 
 with a shocking grace from the man, who had 
 treated some of our countrymen and country¬ 
 women with the utmost cruelty. 
 
 Of his brutal conduct towards Mrs. Watson 
 I have already given a detail. To which I may 
 add, that on Lord Stewart, the present Marquis 
 of Londonderry, coming with the Emperor of 
 Austria, to Venice, after the happy downfall 
 of her cruel oppressor, and beholding her 
 emaciated and debilitated condition, he gene¬ 
 rously interested himself with the British Go¬ 
 vernment in her behalf, and proem ed for her a 
 pension of £.50 a year for life, as the widow 
 of a man who, for three and forty years, had 
 served his country, in different capacities, with 
 fidelity. 
 
 Let me also beg leave to tell Doctor Barry 
 O’Meara, late surgeon, that Buonaparte ordered 
 the arrest of Mrs. Spencer Smith, and the 
 arrest of the Marchioness Catherine Hyde So- 
 lari, merely because they were English-born 
 subjects, treating them both like state prisoners, 
 and manfully setting a guard, with loaded mus¬ 
 kets and dr man swords at the doors of their very 
 bed rooms! Now, to put the thing more home, I 
 
 VOL. I. L 2 A 
 
854 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 ask Doctor O’Meara, who is nolongeraBenedict, 
 how he would like that a man should stand at 
 the bed-room door of his lady, with a drawn 
 sword in his hand ? The Doctor can, I am 
 sure, answer my query, more readily than he 
 can refute the strictures of the Quarterly Re¬ 
 viewers ; and therefore I beg him to do it. 
 
 The only crime of these ladies was, that they 
 were the subjects of a nation, whose govern¬ 
 ment had baffled all his ambitious views. lor 
 Buonaparte not only abhorred the English, but 
 England itself, and has often exclaimed in the 
 presence of the last-mentioned lady, “ bisogna 
 scacciare questa nazione infama dalla carta geo- 
 grafrica !” He detested us in his heart; what¬ 
 ever he might have endeavoured to make the 
 English incredules at St. Helena believe. He 
 was too artful to condemn, in their presence, 
 the nation that had spared him the igno- 
 minous fate of his brother-in-law Murat; and 
 therefore it was, that he expended his rancour 
 on those who had the immediate care of his 
 person. As to his saying, that the English 
 were a deceitful nation, I am absolutely as¬ 
 tounded, that he should have found any one 
 ready to listen to—to swallow — to put upon 
 paper —and finally to give to the world, such a 
 ridiculous fallacy. 
 
 As X have alluded to Buonaparte’s escape 
 
VENICE. 
 
 355 
 
 fiorn Elba, the recollection of which escape 
 rendered vigilance on the part of the Governor 
 of St. Helena a thousand-fold more imperative, 
 I shall here introduce a short anecdote or two. 
 
 When Buonaparte abdicated, in 1814, I 
 happened to be at Zante, one of the Ionian 
 Islands. On my return to Venice, I was cre¬ 
 dibly informed, by a person who was strongly 
 attached to him, that, previously to his quitting 
 Paris for Elba, he had said, in confidence, to 
 Marshal Ney, “ Italy will always be a resource 
 for me. And indeed, if he could have made 
 up his mind to limit his ambition to the govern¬ 
 ment of that country, and to give to it a bond 
 fide representative constitution, he would rot 
 have been suffered to remain a prisoner at Elba 
 for eight and forty hours ; all Italy would 
 have risen up as one man, and flocked to his 
 standard, from their natural abhorrence to the 
 Germans. But, the truth is, that he had made 
 up his mind, from the first, to return ; and had 
 never seriously abandoned the idea of again 
 becoming the sovereign of France. 
 
 The correspondence, and the visits back¬ 
 wards and forwards, from France to Elba, 
 were innumerable. Buonaparte’s apparent in¬ 
 difference and resignation to his fate, lulled the 
 suspicions of the sovereigns who had banished 
 
 2 a 2 
 
VENICE. 
 
 356 
 
 him to that pleasant island, where he could 
 almost behold both France and Ital}. 
 
 To keep them still further in the dark, with 
 regard to his future intentions, Buonaparte set 
 about building, and expended considerable 
 sums at Elba ; as if he had really determined 
 on taking up his abode in the island foi 
 the remainder of his days. A gentleman, on 
 his return from one of these trips to Elba, on 
 being catechized as to the fact of Buonaparte s 
 activity in his new residence, and as to his 
 preparations for new buildings, answered, “ O 1 
 he’ll never live to finish all the plans which he 
 is determined to execute, lew people, }OU 
 know, who build palaces ever live to enjoy 
 them. His family, however, may.” This very 
 person, however, must, at the time, have been 
 in the secret of his intended escape from Elba; 
 as it took place only a day or two after he had 
 
 left the island. 
 
 On the evening that the news of this escape 
 reached Venice, I happened to be at the con¬ 
 versazione of the once celebrated Madame 
 Marina Benzona, now married to Rangom 
 When Marshal Chatlaire entered, he announced 
 to us what had happened. This gentleman, 
 who belonged to the Low Countries, was then in 
 the service of Austria, as he had been foi )eais ; 
 
VENICE. 35J 
 
 he was therefore one of the class for whom 
 Buonaparte, during the last war in Italy, had 
 caused a general amnesty to be offered, provided 
 they would quit the Austrian service and return 
 home, or accept of rank in the French army. 
 In this amnesty, however, Marshal Chatlaire was 
 not included. On the contrary, Buonaparte 
 had oftered 10,000 franks to any one who should 
 bring him, dead or alive, to the head-quarters. 
 “ Now,” said the Marshal to us, after relating 
 the fact of Buonaparte’s escape from Elba, “ I 
 really begin to fancy that my head is in dan¬ 
 ger adding, “ I am greatly mistaken if this 
 war does not turn out far more murderous 
 and sanguinary, than any we have hitherto 
 witnessed. Unless Europe shall consent to be 
 united against this aggression, in six months’ 
 time there will not be such a thins; as a leglti- 
 mate sovereign on any of its thrones.” 
 
 Buonaparte s escape produced little or no 
 sensation at V enice, as it had been foreseen for 
 a long time ; except amongst the few partizans 
 who had lost their employ in consequence of 
 his exile; and even amongst those individuals, 
 it was looked upon as a sort of desperate deter¬ 
 mination, on the part of Buonaparte, to die 
 nobly, rather than tamely to submit to outlive, in 
 
 °2 a 3 
 
358 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 a pitifully small island, his former unequalled 
 grandeur. 
 
 But, to return to my subject. That I am no 
 advocate for the Napoleon system of legislation, 
 
 I think I have pretty plainly shown. I have 
 many weighty reasons for regretting, that it 
 should ever have predominated in Italy, and 
 especially in the once flourishing and happy 
 Venetian States. Truth, however, compels me 
 at the same time to declare, and it would 
 indeed be the height of folly to deny the fact, 
 that the French sway was infinitely more con¬ 
 genial, and more generally advantageous, to all 
 classes of the people of Italy, than the system 
 
 of government which the Austrians have or- 
 
 £> 
 
 ganized for them. 
 
 It was Buonoparte’s constant practice to em¬ 
 ploy thousands of the labouring poor on the 
 high roads; not as they now are engaged, from 
 necessity, in waylaying and in plundering the 
 unoffending traveller, but in keeping those 
 roads in good order, and in repairing the forti¬ 
 fications and the public buildings. The re¬ 
 venues of the Venetian states were principally 
 spent by the French amongst the inhabitants, in 
 affording encouragement to the fine arts, in 
 erecting schools for the education of youth, in 
 maintaining academies for men of science and 
 
VENICE. 
 
 359 
 
 literature, and in giving salaries to persons of 
 the bar, for devising means for the more prompt 
 administration of justice. 
 
 Napoleon, too, whenever an author had the 
 good fortune to meet with a Mecmnas ready to 
 present a work to him, and to say a good word 
 in behalf of the writer, would, as I have 
 before observed, always take a hundred or two 
 copies, and never fewer than fifty, on his own 
 private account; besides making his staff sub¬ 
 scribe for another hundred, by way of giving 
 encouragement to literature. With the present 
 Emperor of Austria, however, and with some of 
 his brothers—who certainly understand crusca- 
 mente, the meaning of the verb avere, but not the 
 meaning of the verb dare — the only return they 
 make to a poor author on such an occasion, is a 
 letter of thanks—that is to say, soddisfanno tutti 
 git Artisti, a modo loro , con grazie —which said 
 grazie, as all the world knows, is very unsub¬ 
 stantial diet! 
 
 During the Emperor of Austria’s first visit to 
 Venice, as the sovereign of those territories, he 
 accepted every thing, of every description, that 
 w r as presented to him, without once loosening 
 In's purse-strings. In short, there was a most 
 striking difference, in this respect, between the 
 
 2 a 4 
 
360 
 
 VENICE, 
 
 two Emperors ; for Napoleon was really gene¬ 
 rous in these matters. 
 
 The same difference appears also to have 
 existed between Napoleon and a certain great 
 hero of our own country. I have been ciedibly 
 informed—and the fact can be contradicted if it 
 be untrue—that a lady, who had written a work 
 in this country, in honour of the illustrious per¬ 
 son’s numerous gallant achievements, applied, 
 when it was ready for publication, to an honour¬ 
 able officer, who not only kindly subscribed to 
 the work himself, but used his influence with the 
 hero of it, to procure the lady in question the 
 honour of personally presenting it to the Con¬ 
 queror of the Conqueror. 
 
 The day for so doing was fixed. The au¬ 
 thoress was received by the first captain of the 
 age in the most gentlemanly and benignant 
 manner. Most unequivocally did he express 
 his grateful acknowledgments to the lady, for 
 the time and the attention which she had be¬ 
 stowed on her narrative of his warlike exploits. 
 He complimented her highly on the manner in 
 which it was executed ; and, on conducting 
 her to the door, he furthermore expressed his 
 earnest desire, to know in what way it was in his 
 power to compensate her for all her trouble. 
 
V E N I C E. 
 
 361 
 
 The work was published. It had the high 
 honour of being dedicated, by permission, to 
 His Gracious Majesty, King George the Fourth, 
 as well as to his Royal Highness the Duke of 
 York and Albany. The too sanguine authoress 
 had caused it to be got up in the most splendid 
 style of printing. But, alas! she soon found, 
 that to promise was one thing, but that to take 
 the work and pay for it was another ! To be 
 brief. The result was, that the lady became 
 cruelly embarrassed, inconsequence of theheavy 
 expense she had incurred in her humble attempt 
 to immortalize the deeds of the hero in question. 
 
 In this situation, she made her incarcerated 
 condition known to the consort of the said hero. 
 But, proli pudor! what was her astonishment 
 at finding the copy of her work sent back to her, 
 by the wife of the hero, after it had been kept 
 six months; and a trifle handed to her, in a 
 degrading manner, through the hands of a 
 common porter at the door of a public office, 
 less in amount, than the sum she received for a 
 single copy, from a sugar-baker in the City ! 
 And this, too—“ t.ell it not in Gath, publish it 
 not in the streets of Ascalon!”—to an unfortunate 
 female, of birth and of education, in a strange 
 country, separated, at the distance of thousands 
 of miles, from her husband and family, without 
 
362 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 friends, and without any other resources, for 
 the moment, than those which she might derive 
 from the exercise of her talents; since she 
 had recently been shipwrecked in the port of 
 Boulogne, and had thereby become deprived of 
 every thing she possessed in the world ! 
 
 Napoleon had many crimes to answer for j but 
 the crime of ingratitude towards men of genius 
 and talent was not amongst the number. I am 
 far from being one of his admirers. I am, 
 however, for giving the devil his due. If the 
 above harsh treatment of the unfortunate lady 
 in question should, by possibility, have arisen 
 out of accidental negligence or error, the par¬ 
 ties will thank me for thus noticing it. It is 
 never too late to atone for an injury ; especially 
 when that injury has been unintentionally in¬ 
 flicted. Meglio tardo che mai! 
 
 The following anecdote will serve to show 
 the opinion of the lower orders of the people 
 of Venice, as to the superiority of the French 
 system of government, over that of the Aus¬ 
 trian. One of those lively set of fellows called 
 the Barcajuoli, on being reprimanded by his 
 master, for his marked indifference towards the 
 present order of things, and threatened with 
 being discharged, if he obstinately persevered 
 in not being reconciled to the new government, 
 
VENICE. 
 
 363 
 
 was asked, how he could forget the plunderings 
 which his countrymen had experienced from 
 Massina, Lecchi, and others, during the reign 
 of the French, whom he was so partial to ? 
 “ O! yes,” replied the man. “ I very well 
 recollect their d—d system of equality in put¬ 
 ting your excellency on a level with me, but in 
 not raising me to an equality with your excel¬ 
 lency : but then, the French did every thing 
 with such a good grace, and at least, left behind 
 them manure for the land ; but as for these 
 cursed Germans, they eat up our provisions — 
 suspect our honesty—pay no one a livre—ill 
 treat us—and would empty the very temples of 
 Cloacina, send off their contents to their own 
 country, and deprive us of the means of culti¬ 
 vating our fields, if they could do so without 
 any cost to themselves ! And then, the scan¬ 
 dalous way in which they treat our noble and 
 worthy old masters, will ever make me detest 
 them. I should be extremely sorry to be dis¬ 
 charged from your generous service ; yet, if I 
 were forced to starve for it, I could never make 
 up my mind to serve a nation, which has basely 
 made a purchase of my native country. That 
 Buonaparte sold us, is not much to be wondered 
 at, for he was a d—d scoundrel, without any 
 grain of religion ; but, the Emperor of Ger- 
 
364 
 
 VENICE. 
 
 many—he, you know, is a true Catholic, a legi¬ 
 timate prince, no usurper, and Italian born 
 into the bargain ! Now, I don’t know who is 
 the worst of the two ; as the proverb tells us, 
 that ‘the receiver is as bad as the thief.’ For 
 my part, I shall ever consider the man who 
 bought us, and the man who sold us, as our 
 mortal enemies.” Having ended his speech, 
 the poor fellow left the room, exclaiming, with 
 tears in his eyes, “ O ! la mia povera i- 
 nezia!” Thousands of individuals are of the 
 same way of thinking with this honest Barca- 
 juola. 
 
 Some important anecdotes, illustrative of the 
 conduct of the Austrian Authorities in the 
 Venetian provinces, I reserve for my next 
 volume. 
 
 END OF VOE. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 rniNTF.n by cox anii bayms, great cjueen street. 
 

 ERRATA. 
 
 Page line 
 
 22, 18, for Horse read Lion. 
 
 30, 3, for years read centuries. 
 
 51, 10, for tabbara read labaro. 
 
 66, 17, for quaranla read quarantia. 
 
 100, 21, the words “ On their ” have dropped out. 
 
 229, 8, for Mascaron read Mascarsson. 
 
 264, 24, for Hermit read Hemmel.