/ FAMIJLIAIR JLETTEIRS FROM ITAI.Y- FAMILIAR LETTERS FROM ITALY, TO A FRIEND IN ENGLAND. BY PETER BECKFORD, ESQ. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. VADE, SED INCULTUS. OViD. ^ali.sibucp : PRINTED AND SOLD BY J. EASTON: SOLD ALSO BY J. HATCHARD, J. GINGER, PICCADILLY ; KORNAVILLE AND FELL, NEW BOND-STREET; f:ADELL AND DAVIES, I'AYNE AND MACKINLAY, STRAND ; AND J. JOHNSON, ST. PAUl's CHURCH-YARD, LONDON. 1S05. r ' ff PREFACE. !M!any of the following Letters were written in the year 1787; most of them before the Invasion of Italy by the French. The many changes that have happened since that time, may, in some measure, render these Letters useless ; but, as they will serve to shew what Italy then was, they are offered by the Author, with the greatest humility, to the Candor of the Public. CON- CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME, LETTER I.— PAGE 1. -ILxTRODUCTiON — Intention of the following Letters. LETTER IL— P. 8. Travelling — Its Advantages — Enquiries necessary to render it useful— Rules to be observed. LETTER III.— P. 19. Geneva — As a Summer Residence recommended — An ex- traordinary Duel. LETTER IV.— P. 33. Voltaire and Rousseau — Some Anecdotes concerning them — Beauties of Switzerland — William Tell — Battles of Morat and St. Jacques. LETTER v.— P. 45. Passage of the Alps— Avalanche— Goitres — Mount Cenis — Descent into Piedmont — Lucioles— Palace of Ri- voli. LETTER VI.— P. 59. Turin — Commerce of Piedmont— Royal Villas — Accident at Montcallier — Climate — Society and Manners. LETTER VII.— P. 71. Road to Milaii'-Cultivation of Rice—Death of Alboin. LET- Vlll. LETTER VIII.— P. 78. Milan — Carnival — Society and INIanners — Extraordinary Echo. LETTER IX.— P. 89. Genoa — Count de Ficsque — Marquis Botta — INIanners of the People— Journey over the Apennines. LETTER X.— P, 9S. Cicisbeism. LETTER XI.— P. lOi. Piacenza — -Parma — Modena. LETTER XII.— P. 112. Bologna — Towers Asinelli and Garrizandi — University- Institute — Madonna di St. Luca — Pietra Mala. LETTER XIIL— P. II9. Florence — River Arno— Bridge — Duomo— Campanile — San Giovanni. LETTER XIV—P. 131. San Lorenzo — Santa Croce — Piazza Santa Croce — Annun- ziata — Santa JNIaria Novella Ogni Santi — Santo Spirito — San Marco — Manege, LETTER XV.— P. 139. Palazzo Vecchio — Fete of St. Romolo — 'Pitti Palace- Garden of Boboli. LETTER XVI.— P. 151. KiccardiPaLice — Strozzi — Pallazzo non terminato — Corsini Palace — Gherardesca — Girini — Altuiti — Rinuccini — Bartolini — Buonarotti — Salviati — St. Gaetano — « Death of Lord Camelford— Sigtior Carlo di P — Anec- dote concerning him, LET- IX LETTER XVII.— P. l6l. The Uffizzi— Gallery. LETTER XVIII.— P. 173. Gabinetto Fisico — Observatory — Unfortunate Accident to a Lady. LETTER XIX.— P. 180. Laufenziana Library — Famous Virgil — Travels of Cosi- nio III. in England — Maruccelliana Library — Mag- liabechi — Accademia della Crusca — Del Disegno— Dei Georgofili — Improvisatori's — State of Literature. LETTER XX.— P. 191. Hospital Santa Maria — A curious Experiment — Ability of the Professors — Misericordia— Innocenti — Bigallo— Scuola Regia — Anecdote of Gio. Gastone, J.F.TTFR yXT.— P. 202. Government of Florence. LETTER XXII.— P. 212. The same continued — Spies — Extraordinary Riot.. LETTER XXIIL— P. 219. Commerce — Mercato Nuovo — Studio of Pisani — Trade. LETTER XXIV.— P. 227. Commercio Libero — Monopoly— Markets — Poor. LETTER XXV.~P. 235. Society and ^Tanners — Signer P. P. M.— The Scrape he has got himself into. LET- LETTER XXVL— P. 245. Extraordinary Customs — ]\Iy House robbed — ^Thief how discovered. LETTER XXVIL— P. 255. Carnival — Theatres — Ginevra degli Amieri — Sermons during Lent — Casino — Corso^ Hospitality. LETTER XXVHL— P. 269. Management of their Horses — Driving— Racing — Fete of San Giovanni — Illumination. LETTER XXIX.— P. 282. Fairs — Fete under the Uffizzi Cascine — Villas of the Grand Duke— Game— Reflections on Sporting — Ac- commodation. LETTER XXX.— P. 293. VaU'ombrosa — When founded, and the Occasion of it. LETTER XXXL— P. 303. Alvernia — Its Situation, &c. LETTER XXXIL— P. 311. Camaldoli — Sant' Eremo — Climate — Fryars — Prato Vec- chio— Capo D'Arrio— Road to the Consuma — Return to Florence — Order of la Trappc: — Abbe de Ranee. LETTER XXXIIL— P. 323. Economy— Extravagance of the English — Some necessary Rules — Italians and French better Economists than the English— Journey to Pisa. LETTER XXXIV,— P. 335. The Town of Pisa. lEX- let LETTER XXXV.— P. 343. The Duomo— -Batistero— Campo Santo~TorrePenclent(i-« Hospitul. LETTER XXXVL— P. 352. Caravanna— University— Torre della fame-^Sapienza — Specola — Library— Conservatorios— Death of the Pretender. LETTER XXXVIL~P. 36l. Palace of the Grand Duke — Plis Court— Arch Dukes — Cascine — Goltano— Death of the Abbe de Bourbon — Alarm of Fire. • LETTER XXXVIIL— P. 372. Government— Commerce — Manufactures and Trade- Quietism — Jansenism— St. Ranieri — lUuminara. LEl'lEK XXXLX— P. 378. Riot — Man killed — Turk,Kow treated — Force of the Town — In what it consists— Gallerians — Gioco del Ponte. LETTER XL.— P. 3SS. Manner of burying— —Marriages — Dower — Education- Duelling. LETTER XLL— P. 396. Income of the Pisans — Climate — Markets — Diversions — Carnival — Society and Manners. LETTER XLIL— P. 407. Pisa Baths— Calci — Certosa — Villa Prini Massa— Warmth and Cheapness of it. — Carrara, LET- Xll LETTER XLIII.— P. 4l6. Road to Leghorn — The Town— Its Trade—Its Inhabitants. LETTER XLIV.— P. 425. Lucca— Ridiculous Mistake of an Englishman — Society and Manners— Baths— Villas Santini and Manzi, LETTER XLvl— P. 435. Siena— Pictures of the Old Masters — House of Socini— Extracts from a Work on Religion. LETTER XLVI.— P. 444. Lizza— Manege— Corso — Accommodation. FAMI« FAMILIAR LETTERS. LETTER I. Pisa, Jan, 5, 1787. My dear Friend, YOU desire an account of my Travels, — I fear it will not be the most agreeable part of our correspondence,— I foresee many difficulties.— I am well aware that it is not an easy task for a stranger to judge of the character and genius, customs and manners of a country through which he passes, yet as it is a task that properly be- longs to a Traveller, I flatter myself that you, •who are acquainted with the difficulty, will not tvithhold your indulgence. It may be also dif- ficult to describe faithfully and not offisnd ; yet that apprehension, unpleasant as it may be, shall in no instance induce me to disguise the truth. To those very discreet persons who think that truth is not always to be spoken, I shall reply that the truth is always to be spoken whenever a Gentleman speaks. It is your business to re- voL. I. s mem- 2 member that in all general descriptions many ex- ceptions are to be made. Nor is it the least un- pleasant part of this undertaking to think that I shall frequently tell you what you already know. Local descriptions cannot vary much. We all draw our knowledge from the same source, read the same books, and visit the same objects. Every thing curious in Italy has been described again and again j but many things I may pro- bably see in a different light from others, and de- scribe in a different manner. Besides, Travellers not only see things in different lights, but relate them in different humours. Compare Pi ozzi with Smollet; Baretti with Sharpe ; and you will be at a loss what opinion to form of a coun- try of which they all treat so differently. As for Baretti, yOu must read him with the same cau- tion you use when you deal with his countrymen. Like them he concludes that you will not believe all that is said ; that a reduction is to be made; and he makes his account accordingly. I will examine with care, relate with fidelity, and keep as near the truth as lean. Rousseau says, " I have passed my life in reading the accounts that Travellers give, and have not met with two that have given me the same idea of the same people." When we consider travelling under its several motives of education, pleasure, health, and eco- nomy, •v. 3 nomy, it becomes an object of such importance, that we need not wonder if so many Writers both male and female, have thought it worthy their attention. They have given us many an useful lesson ; and by describing, though faintly, the sights that afforded them pleasure, enable us to follow them in their excursions without either expenceor trouble. I shall avail myself of their labours. — La Lande's Account of Italy is now upon my table ; I will read it with attention, and shall follow that gentleman, or any other who has written on this subject, with as litde scruple as any ancient poet, or modern traveller whatever.* But I will not blindly follow, nor adopt their opinions when contrary to my own. If I should mention Dionysius, Polybius, or any other Greek author, as probably I may, do not fancy that I read Greek. I have contented myself with an English translation, and advise you to do the same. As I have read more for amusement than improvement, I have trusted too much to me- mory. Favourite passages that I have tran- scribed from books, are not only incorrect, but . * Virgil is said to have copied Homer, in near a thousand places — ^Terence has been called dmidiate Menandre — and Writers of Travels, from the time of Miss ON to the present day, have invariably copied one fiom another. s 2 un- unaccompanied often with the names of the au- thors, and sometimes even with the references to them. I derive one pleasure, however, from a bad memory : — Shakespeare and the Spectator, Don Quixotte and Gil Bias, after a year or two, become as new to me, and are read with as much pleasure as they were at first. If your memory be equally bad, take notes of what you read.— The best method, without doubt, is to carry the knowledge you acquire in your head ; but if that be a lost hope, the next best is to carry it in your pocket. An historical account of the places through which I pass, of course, you will not expect: a general description I shall not omit, and may afterwards refer you to those useful books which are written as Guides to strangers, and are to be found in every town where the curiosities de- serve remark. I shall endeavour to be candid in my observations, and not ill-tempered in my reflections ; yet I shall speak with the freedom of my country, nor compliment even Princes at the expence of truth. I shall say litde of the government of any town, yet enough to answer the purpose of a traveller, who does not mean to become an inhabitant. In some states, and one in particular, the laws and regulations are so continually varying, that my pen would not keep pace with the caprice of the Sovereign. Though 5 Though I may speak of the state of literature, I shall decline mentioning the learned men, that I may ofFcnd none of them. Poor AddisoxN is accused by a lady of unkindness and injustice when he speaks of the literature of Milan, I dare say he spoke as he found it. To judge of the character of a people we must see them familiarly, and without reser\^e ; we must have the tact of reconciling seeming con- tradictions, and of discovering truth through the cloud that surrounds it. Private characters for this reason are difficult to be understood ; but general characters, if found from observation to be just, may without scruple be discussed. I shall betray no confidence, nor relate any anecdote that is not generally known, and publicly talked of. One author* has already shewn how diffi- cult it is to write on the customs and manners of any country, and not find fault. He took up his pen to correct this defect in another, at the same time that he has abused Piemont, the coun- try that gave him birth, more than the English- man whose malignity he condemns. It is said that Travellers will lie : — They must lie, if every trifling mistake is to be deemed a falsehood. Some from ignorance inform you wrong ; some will purposely deceive you. I * Bauetti. shall 4 6 shall describe things as I find them, nor be answerable for the changes that time, or caprice may make. When on the subject of economy, I shall mention what I pay myself ; prices of course will vary, and you must make the best bargain you can. I shall not send you a regular account of churches and palaces ; it would be tiresome to us both : nor shall I pretend to describe pictures, which to be admired must be seen. Whatever I think necessary I shall not omit, as I am con- scious the trifle I am now offering you would be useless if I did. Pay no attention to the dates of my Letters, since several visits made at different seasons to the same place, may, to save trouble to us both, be made the subject of one letter. My old friend, Sterne, has ludicrously de- scribed several kinds of Travellers : — as I know not under which of these you intend to be classed, I shall endeavour that the hints I give may be of service to all : — to amuse you if you please —to inform you if I can — and to start now and then a subject interesting to us both, will be the endeavour of the following Letters. Suffer me, however, to ride my hobby as I like j you are at liberty to get up behind me if you think fit, and may get down when you will j I only beg that I may be permitted to continue my morn- ing's ride as long as I find it agreeable. I am in in a dull place, and hate to be idle.— I write partly to inform you, and partly to employ my- self. It is probable, therefore, that I shall take a larger latitude than Writers of Travels usually allow themselves, and not strictly confine myself to the dull narrative which they have rendered unnecessary. I foresee that my Letters will be a pasticcioy a mere hotch potch, and will partake, more of the extravagance of Montaign e, than of the elegance of Pliny. No matter: — If they prevent me at any time from doing worse, or afford a transitory amusement to you, when you have nothing to do, I shall not have been ill employed. — I shall prefer it to sauntering in a coffee-house, or to standing upon a bridge, and spitting into the stream that runs beneath. LIT- LETTER II. YOUR letter, in answer to mine of the fifth of January, is very consolatory. You accept the conditions ; promise me your indul- gence, and I shall proceed. You tell me also that you mean to follow my steps shortly : it is a pleasure to think that, in some degree at least, I shall clear the way for you. It would be needless to say much to recom- mend travelling, which has so many advantages attending it. Splenetic gentlemen, by change of place, may chasser leur ennui ; those of an active mind satisfy their curiosity ; the distressed live as well as their neighbours ; and the magnificent make a figure both in France and Italy with little money. The philosopher will find that mankind are equally slaves to their passions every where, and may also see with pleasure, as a Prince of Persia did before him, that they die even in Rome as in other places.* But what is more * When Co^^STANTiNE asked the brother of the King of Persia, "What pleased him most at Rome?" he replied, *' That nothing pleased him so well as to see that men died there as they did in other places." . to 9 to our purpose, an Englishman will learn from a knowledge of other countries to set a proper value on his own. Ulysses, the wisest among the Greeks, is described as one who had travel- led much. The Romans considered travelling as a necessary, part of education. Their youth visited Greece as we visit Italy; though I be- lieve with more advantage. It is not in looking at pictures and statues only, that travelling is of use, but in examining the laws, customs, and manners of other countries, and comparing them with our own. Agriculture, Natural History, Trade, Commerce, Arts, and Sciences, all pre- sent themselves under various forms to improve and enlarge the understanding ; while a continual habit of receiving favors will put us in good- humour with the rest of the world, remove our prejudices, increase our sensibility, and inspire in us that general benevolence which renders mankind so serviceable to one another. Partia- lity is warrantable to a certain degree only- relations, friends, acquaintance, countrymen, ceteris paribus^ are entitled to a preference ; but as a citizen of the world, I cannot subscribe to it to the extent it is often carried. I know nothincr o that removes local prejudices so much as travel- ling. Mankind are nearly the same in all coun- tries, and you learn to esteem merit whereever you find it. Use- 10 Useful as I have been taught to consider tra- velling, I am surprised to hear it represented as prejudicial to morality. Do you think it more so than a fashionable London life ? What vices is a young man likely to contract abroad, that he cannot find at home ; and I beg leave to ask, if he cannot injure his health, and ruin his fortune as effectually in London, as in any other part of the world ? They are much mistaken v^ho think he is to be taught foppery in France, drinking in Germany, gallantry in Italy, or gambling any ■where. It is true, many travel too young; were they better acquainted with their own laws, customs, and manners, they would receive greater advantage in comparing them with those of other countries. Cicero was near thirty when he travelled into Greece, at which age it is probable he was perfectly acquainted with Rome, and had already laid the foundation of that knowledge which rendered him so famous afterwards. — Other examples are not wanting : — Lycurgus, and Peter the Great, men of exalted genius, to whom their country owed all its splendour, were travellers before hey were legislators. I have seen many of my countrymen inquisitive from routine after every trifle on the Continent, and less acquainted with the curiosities of Lon- don than an Italian, who could tell them even more of Westminster Abbey, the Tower, Saint Paul's, 11 Paul's, and the Monument, than they knew be- fore. — Apropos to the latter: — You probably have never heard that a Preacher of that time exclaiming againt Intemperance, declared the fire of London to have been evidently a judg- ment on the gluttony of the citizens, since, it began in Pudding-laLnCy and ended in Pye-cor- ner. It is thought not without reason that the Eng- lish are bad travellers ; that we are discontented with every thing, and determined to find nothing good or agreeable out of our own country. A Frenchman makes up his mind to every incon- venience; his room, his dinner, his bed, no- thing comes amiss to him, while many whom we know are never pleased but where they are not — are to be contented only with what they cannot get — and absurdly expect all their Eng- lish comforts in an Italian inn. Before you set out on your journey you will of course provide every thing necessary : you should at the same time consider what is, and what is not necessary. Gray says : " Eine quodcunque emendum est ; not only pictures, medals, gems, drawings, &c. ; but cloaths, stock- ings, shoes , handkerchiefs, little moveables, every thing you may want all your life long." This would be better advice from Gray the futkr^ than Gray the poet. I am now as stu- dious 12 dious to lessen incumbrances, as I once was to increase them ; and instead of loading myself with cloaths, &c. that I do not want, readily give away all that I can do without ; and may expect to become an excellent Traveller by the time I leave off travelling. If you travel for improvement, observe the customs, manners, and dispositions of the people, • — study the laws, police, and the characters of those that govern, — adapt your questions to the capacity of those with whom you converse, and you will seldom meet with any one from whom some useful information may not be obtained ; even the very mysteries of government will be- come as familiar to you as the customs and man- ners of the people. You will enquire if popu- lation increases — if commerce improves — if the arts flourish— if the taxes are judiciously laid, and the revenues of the state carefully expended —if the system of government be such as con- ciliates the affections of the people — if that go- vernment be firm, and able to controul the guilty, secure the person and property of the subject from insult, and make itself respected — if the laws are concise, and easily understood i if they are equally administered ? — You will at the same time consider their stability as a proof of their goodness, or suspect the propriety of alterations that you see continually altering. — • You 13 You will observe if civil causes are decided ex- peditiously and impartially ; and if criminals arc tried fairly and mercifully, as we ourselves hope to be tried. In public edifices you will look for taste and elegance, and in every public institution you will examine how far the end answers the inten-^ tion. In the Sovereign you will expect grandeur and magnificence without waste or profusion- judicious mercy and punishments adapted to their crimes — you will observe if he be indul- gent or severe ; and if he set the example of vir- tue which he wishes his subjects to follow ; if his principles of governing be just, and if his actions agree always with his principles ; in one word, if he prefers the happiness and prosperity of his people, to his own personal interest or glory. You will observe the state of religion, educa- tion, and morals- — will enquire if the Clergy do their duty, as well by example as precept ; if fa- thers provide proper teachers for their children without regard to expence or trouble ; and if virtue be generally esteemed, and vice dis- couraged. — You will also remark if the Noblesse be generous and humane ; the people industrious, frugal, and contented. These are useful enqui- ries J and if a Traveller can but leave all national pre- 14 prejudice behind him, he will receive no small advantage by thus comparing other countries with his own. In time of war, M'hen you have obtained a passport, read it :— for want of that precaution at Brussels, I found myself in a ridiculous situa- tion at the gates of Luxembourgh. The name of my companion was inserted, but by some mistake or other, I was called the Chevalier dc York! That gentleman was then expected at Luxembourgh, on his way to the Congress at Ausburg, and the Deputy Governor (the Gover- nor was in the country) as soon as he heard of his Excellency's arrival, came to pay him his respects. He insisted on shewing the Chevalier York the fortifications, mines, &c., which he as- sured me at the same time no less a personage could be permitted to see : and the Chevalier York, after expressing his thanks, and secretly wishing this officious gentleman at the Devil a thousand times for his courtesy, returned to his inn, in no little hurry, lest he should be dis- covered, and hung up as a spy. Travel by night as little as you can help ; ac- cidents at that time are most hkely to happen, and are least easy to remedy. A moon I know is a great temptation to those who are in haste, and though I cannot agree with our friend Carraccioli, that the moon in Italy is as vjarm as 15 flS iht sun in England j yet it is certainly a better moon than ours, and an English Traveller may be astonished at the light it gives. Accept the friend- ly assistance which the moon oflPers, and when there is none, rathe? set out before day, than travel after. Inquire at what hour they shut the gales at every capital town you have occasion to pass, and never run it too near for fear of acci- dents. Never, on any pretence whatever, suffer them to put more horses to your carriage than the tariff allows; it generally occasions disputes, and sometimes obliges you to continue the same number to the end of your journey. Travel- ling, in my younger days, through Germany, and arriving with four horses only, I opposed for some time the addition of two, that the Postmaster was employing all his rhetoric to persuade me to take : I insisted on seeing the tariff. The tariff was in my favor; and yet, like a great fool (the road being bad), I let him carry his point, on giving me a letter to his friend at the next post, confirming my arrival with four horses only. The letter was written in German, what it contained I know not; but I conclude it said that I was a very silly fellow, for the post- master, without further cereilnony, put six horses fo my carriage, but politely offered me a similar letter to his friend at the next post, if I chose to accept it. Avoid 16 Avoid disputes with postmasters and postil- lions ; you lose time, lose your temper, arid gain nothing. I went twice at Poggibonsi to iht Podesta,* to complain of the postmaster, but got no redress. It taught me patience. In Tuscany, where the regulations contradict each other, you cannot always avoid disputes : — by one order, they cannot refuse you four horses, if you arrive with no more : by another, if your baggage exceed three hundred pounds, they can oblige you to take six. In France the post is better regulated, the orders are clear, and admit of no dispute. Were the Italian inns less insufferable, I ■would encounter all the tediousness of a Vet- turino, rather than submit to the impertinence of the postmasters, and the brutality of the pos- tillions. The latter are the most worthless fel- lows in Italy, and yet the only way to get quickly and safely out of their hands is to pay them well, and treat them civilly. Stop as little as possible at the inns ; at all you must expect to be imposed upon : — you may assure yourself, if you travel in the winter, that you will find no place so comfortable as your •* The Podesta is> the magistrate for all civil concerns, own 17 own carriage. A Frenchman puts on his night- cap, and gets into his chaise, as he gets into his bed; and when hungry, usually contents himself with the provisions he carries along with him. Some good wine, and a cold pye in the well of your carriage, with the addition of a fresh egg, which is both clean and wholesome, will save you from a bad dinner, and the inconvenience of waiting for it. Let your supper be your princi- pal meal. Where you intend to sleep make your bargain before you leave your carriage, and if you find them exorbitant in their demands, drive on : if you are firm, they will be reason- able. — Bespeak your horses as soon as you ar- rive : — pay handsomely on the road that you may be well served, and at the gates to avoid trouble. — There is no fixed rule for these ex- pences. — They always depend on the figure you make, and what you are thought able to pay :— a courier with lace on his jacket, will be expected to pay more than one without. For comforts , I should recommend an English inn ; they are in general cleaner, and the eating more in the style to which you have been accustomed ; but, impartiality obliges me to add, that the travel- ler who travels out of economy must never enter them. Monsieur Dutens and Mr. Martyn have rendered any further direction unnecessary ; VOL. I. c make 18 make^OM your provision of patience and resig- nation. If your bed be bad, leave it the sooner j if the bread be heavy, make hght of it : neither lose time unnecessarily on the road, nor hurry where you have any thing to see. One Gentle- man, to save timcy saw all the curiosities of Rome in a few days, in a post-chaise and four! Another passed through Lyons without seeing it at all : he however said, " it was a nasty town," and being asked, " what stay he made there?" replied, " I arrived late at night; and, J thank God, set out again early the ne:ct morn-> ing,'* LET- 19 LETTER III. REMEMBER to pass the Alps early in the autumn, before the first snows fall. I was unluckily a week too late. If you wish to avoid the heats of Italy, it is in Switzerland yoa should pass the summer. Though I may be thought a partial judge of the beauties of a coun- try, where I remained three years, intending at ■ray arrival to stay three days only. As Geneva during all that time was my head-quarters, of course you will expect some description of it. The town is about two miles in circumference, pleasantly situated, partly in Savoy, and partly in Switzerland, at the western extremity of one of the most beautiful lakes in Europe. It is of ancient date, was not unknown in the early days pf Rome, and has since undergone a variety of revolutions. It was once united to the German Empire, under the successors of Charlemagne. After that, the Bishops of Geneva obtained the supreme authority in opposition to the Counts, c 2 and 20 and exercised an unbecoming tyranny, till the re- formation in the year 1535, under the direction of Calvin, put an end to their pretensions.* In 1602, their neighbour, Charles Emanuel Duke of Savoy, though then at peace with the Republic, made a treacherous attempt to take the town by surprise. Ke approached in silence, darkness favoured him, and by means of scaling ladders which he fixed to the walls, many of his soldiers had already mounted the ramparts be- fore they were discovered. Luckily he failed in the attempt. The principal ringleaders were treated as they deserved, and the anniversary of this piece of rascality, if I m.ay be allowed the expression, has been observed till lately at Ge- neva, as a joyful festival. To make my peace with Sovereignty, I will now relate an anec- dote as honourable as that was disgraceful : —When the same Charles Emanuel entered France to confer with Henry IV. concerning some matters in dispute between them, the King was advised to seize on the person of the Duke till those differences were settled. The gallant Monarch replied, " That he would ra- * The Bishop still retains the title, and resides at An- necy in Savo}?^ ; but Calvin applied the overplus of the be- nefices which pampered his luxury, and that of his depen- dants, to found an hospital, college, and academy. iher 21 ther lose his crown^ than betray the confidence rf- posed in Am, even by an enemy."* In 1754 the King of Sardinia by a solencin act acknowledged the independence of that Re- public. Of late years the aristocratical and de- mocratical parties have been constantly at va- riance ; the most opulent families have obtained an almost exclusive jurisdiction, and the Court of France, in the time of the Duke de Choiseul, cruelly interfered in favor of a party already too powerful for the liberties of the people. You have heard much of the excellence of the Geneva Government : — It is composed of Le Petit Conseil of twenty-five members, Le Grand Conseil des deux cens, and Le Conseil General. The Grand Conseil never assembles without the Petit Conseil, nor can any thing be proposed to the former till it has been approved by the latter, though they are at liberty to reject it afterwards. The Conseil General is the as- sembly of the Bourgeoise, where each has a vote, and it is by them the magistrates are chosen. The Sovereignty is in the Conseil General : they declare war, and make peace ; but can only de- bate on that which is proposed to them by the Grand Conseil, who determine all other matters both civil and criminal. The essential diffe- rence between a Citizen and a Bourgeois is, that .22 tliat the latter cannot be elected to any office, though they are members of the Sovereign Council as well as the citizens. Those who are natives only cannot keep a shop, or serve in the troops ; and pay a certain sum before they can exercise any profession. They are, however, adrmued to the bourgeoisie at a lower price than those who are inhabitants only. The principal magistrates are called Syndics : there are four of them. The office is for one year only, nor can they be re-chosen till three years after. The Procureur General is another magistrate of great consideration, for besides his office of attorney general, the rights of the people, the maintenance of the constitution, and submission to the laws, are particularly confided to him. The revenue was, one year with another, about six hundred thousand French livres ; a small sum, but equal to the ordinary expences of the state.— The riches of the inha- bitants is the treasury of the Republic. Many of the Geneva laws are excellent; but so many years have elapsed since my acquaint- ance with them, they are almost all forgotten. Some of their domestic regulations are just and prudent. A father may dispose as he pleases of half his estate, leaving the other half to be di- vided equally among his children ; nor can they hold any office under governmejit unless they pay 23 pay their proportion of their father's debts. If a husband does not mention his wife in his will, she is entitled to her dower only; and if that should be insufficient, she is allowed a pension during her widowhood out of the estate. It is not permitted a man of sixty years of age to marry a woman under forty ; nor a woman to marry a man more than ten years younger than herself. — As to the former, I do not know that either of them has any necessity to marry at all. Divor- ces are, perhaps, too easily obtained : — when the affair is agreed upon between the parties, the wife absents herself from her husband — he pub- licly demands her, and if she does not appear in a given time, a divorce is immediately granted. This, you will allow, is very accommodating, but I cannot persuade myself that the accommoda- tion of individuals in this easy manner is an ad- vantage to the state. The Consistoire is a spiritual court, under the direction of the Petit Conseil. The morals of the people are under the particular inspection of the Clergy. — These have twelve hundred French livres a year allowed them : they undergo a strict exauiination to entide them to it, not only In theology, but in general knowledge and mo- rality. They visit the sick, comfort the afflicted, assist the widow and the orphan, procure pecu- niary relief for the poor who want it, reprove such 24 sjich of the inhabitants as lead dissolute lives, and reconcile such as are at variance. Four times a year their own conduct is enquired into by the Consistoire, and those are censured who have neglected any of these important duties. — - The Consistoire sets a good example to our Bishops, and the Geneva Pastors to our English Clergy. The University in my time was on a respect- able footing, and among the Professors were many eminent men in all the sciences. The academic exercises were in high repute, and les usages du monde so necessary to accomplish a gentleman, which are only to be acquired in good company, and in which our own Universities are so very deficient, were not wanting ; and what was not less essential to young Englishmen, the company they frequented had sentiments of religion and liberty, congenial to their own. A small state like this is to be governed like a well-regulated family ; the authority like that of a father, the submission like that of a son : but I fear the Republic, since my time, has undergone many material changes : — frequent struggles for liberty, by exposing her natural weakness, have deprived her at last of the little she had ; and an introduction of French customs has given a finishing stroke to that purity of manners which is 25 is essentially necessary to the very existence of a Republic. The Lake of Geneva, one of the greatest beauties of Switzerland, is about fifty miles in length, and in the widest part near nine miles over : the water never freezes, and is higher in summer than in winter, owing to the melting of the snow on the neighbouring mountains. The rapid Rhone runs through it; at Lyons it forms its junction with the gentle Soane, and you will observe with what a prudish reluctance she meets his vigrorous embrace. It is on this lake the Grib are caught, a bird somewhat resembling a Dab-Chick : they are caught in the months of December and January, when the weather is per- fectly calm. The watermen row after them ; the birds continue diving till their strength is ex- hausted, and are afterwards easily taken. Of the feathers of the breast, which is remarkably white and soft, are made muffs and tippets. The trout of the lake are famous: — Ouin might have liked them as well as a John Dory; at any rate, he would have liked the size better. — I eat of one that weighed thirty-two pounds, eighteen ounces to the pound, Geneva weight. The villas that surround this charming lake are delightful. The wine, called vi^i de la Coie^ is excellent: — in short, I cannot conceive a more pleasant summer residence. A com- 26 A commodious port on the lake, and a lucky situation betwixt Germany, France, and Italy, are great advantages to commerce, and en- courage the industry of the people. In my time, Geneva was more flourishing than Berne — though a little spot, contained more inhabitants ; and those were more rich, more commercial, and more industrious. The principal trade of the town is that of watches : — they had not less than two thousand watch-makers, who were sup- posed to give bread to near eight thousand people. The worst trade was that of a lawyer : — law-suits were generally made up by the friends of the parties, and sometimes (believe it if you can) by the lawyers themselves.* The fortifications are more neat than strong, and the daily guard consists of one hundred and fifty men only. The buildings, as well as I can recollect, have no extraordinary elegance. The library contains some valuable manuscripts. The hospitals are said to exceed their income, the deficiency of which is supplied by charity. Poor travellers are allowed one night's lodging, and have money given them in the morning to carry them on. The gates are shut at sun-set, and never opened after. No Turk observes * At Geneva every attorney takes an oath not to under- la,ke any cause he does not, think just. hi^ 27 his Ramaudan more strictly than I did the day I arrived at Geneva, or I should not have arrived in time. Eagles are constantly kept in the town of Geneva, as bears are at Berne ; and, I believe, for no better reason. The Genevois are in general rich, they are also provident, and their magazines are seldom "without a sufficiency of corn for two years sub- sistence : besides which, many families find their account in keeping a year's stock before-hand. The corn is clwefly furnished from Savoy.— There are two market days every week for corn, and two for wine j what is brought in must be sold the same day. The Savoyards supply them also with butter, and will sometimes put stones into it to increase the weight : — extreme poverty is a sad enemy to honesty in every part of the world. The Genevois are long lived ; but whether it be owing to the salubrity of the air, or the tem- perate manner of their living, I cannot determine: I knew six gentlemen belonging to the same club, whose ages together made five hundred and sixty-two, and I remember to have sat bnce on the same bench with four, the youngest of whom was eighty-two; and yet, Geneva is very cold in winter, and the Bize, of all winds, is the most intolerable. The Genevois were not expensive in their houses ; 28 houses : — they were not suffered to use any figured plate, nor to wear lace or diamonds. Balls were over by ten o'clock, and usual'y be- gan at four. Those they called Bah de Nuity were seldom allowed except at marriages : they began at ten, and lasted as long as the company thought fit. They had not even a theatre ! — Much has been written on the subject by the most celebrated wits of that time, who I think might have spared themselves the trouble, since the stage undoubtedly is laudable, or otherwise, according to the use or abuse that is made of it. The men live very much in clubs. Their amuse- ment in summer is bowls, not rolled like ours over a level green, but pitched on any ground, even or not, as they find it. They are famous archers, and many of us Englishmen were chosen members of that society,and became archers also. It was at one of those meetings that I made acquaintance wiih Leotard the painter, who had been in England : he was a Genevois, though he constantly wore the Turkish habit :— Wort LEY Montague did the same at Venice: in If any respects it certainly is a more conve- nient dress than ours. — The Turks, wear no garters, no tight wr'stbands or shirt collars, to hinder the free circulation of their blood; and, without doubt, are the healthier for it. I found the men better in general than they had 29 had been represented. The sense of this coun- try is surely undervahied by its neighbours. Though the attic wit may be wanting, the Swiss are by no means deficient in penetration or judgment ; though taste and elegance are beyond their reach, their fidelity and honesty may shame those who are endowed with more brilliant qua- lifications ; and in many parts of Switzerland you will find them civilized, yet uncorrupt. How- ever respectable genius may be, good sense is more necessary in the common occurrences of life : — genius may neither know how to stir a fire or snufF a candle. The women affect the French manners, and are very amiable ; they pass their evenings in small parties, called Societies, to which strangers are frequently invited. It was at one of these assemblies that Mademoiselle G , lost the heart of our friend. Lord W ■ G , by eating too rminy petits pates. Petits pates were at thattime very much in fashion, and as the Genevois dine early, slip down very easily. At a concert I gave, a large quantity of them had been provided with other things to be eaten be- tween the acts. I was called out, — Toinette, the girl of the house, who had the management of the side-board, wanted to speak to me: — I found her in tears— I concluded she was taken ill : — " Toineue, what is the matter with you ?" « Sir, 30 " Sir, ahi, aU^^* replied Toinette, sobbing, " Monsieur S • (a Geneva Parson), has been here — ahi^ ahi^ ahi ; — I left the room for an instant only, — ahiy ahi, ahi, ahi, — and he has eat up eVery one of the pedis pates !'* Monsieur was frequently invited to those concerts. There is a particularity in that gentle- man's history, which, in the manner it was then told, I will now relate. — He courted Mademoi- selle , but whether for the charms of her person, or les beaux yeux de sa Cassette, I know not. At any rate, he played his part so well, that he became the favourite, and their marriage •was concluded on. At this moment the famous Count de , a Trcnzh. petit maitre, vain, in- solent, and brave, arrived at Geneva, and no sooner saw the two lovers, than he conceived the idea of disturbing the nuptials. He easily got introduced to the lady, and immediately gave the gentleman to understand, that as he never suffered a competitor, he had only to chuse whether he would part with his mistress or his life. The alternative, you will allow, was not pleasant, and my friend, who was a lover, and was not a swordsman, found himself in a cri- tical situation, from which he knew not very well how to extricate himself. He was notde- iicient in courage, but was perfectly ignorant of the art of defence* His fiist thought, therefore, wa5 31 was to send for Ponson, a fencing-master, to whom be related what had happened. Ponson, who knew the Count, told him fairly he could not be in worse hands ; that his rival was an excellent swordsman, had fought several duels, and had never failed to kill his man. Rare news for Monsieur ! who eagerly asked Ponson ** If he could give him no instructions !" — " None !" — replied Ponson j — " None !— The time does not admit of it, and I could give you no lesson of fencing but what would do you more harm than good." Monsieur ' was now in despair. — After a long silence, Ponson, clapping him on the back, cried, " Courage, sir, I think I can serve you ! Dare you look your enemy in the face ?" — " Certainly I dare I'* — *' Well then, follow my directions, and you shall kill the Count : — he is skilful, but passio- nate; frequent successes have rendered him im- petuous ; he will attack you furiously, and des- pise you sufficiently not to think of his own de- fence : stand firm, look him steadily in the face, you have a long arm, extend it to the utmost, and, as he will rush on you with fury, it is pro- bable he may kill himself." It happened exacdy as Ponson foretold ; the Count came furiously and blindly on, and at his first lunge, received the point of his rival's sword full in his bosom, and fell dead at his feet. Monsieur had 32 had thus the honour to ki^ll the Count de •, and the happiness to marry Mademoiselle — ^ — shortly after. Here I met with that extraordinary charac- ter, old Huet:— when turned of eighty, his life was saved by his servant, who seeing him fall down in an apoplexy, bled him instantly.— He left him a legacy in his will on condition that he did so no more. LET« 33 LETTER IV. VOLTAIRE is a great loss to the English ; he received them w ell, and invited them to the fetes he gave, not the least interesting of which were his own plays, acted in his own theatre. As an actor (for he sometimes acted himself), he had little merit. In this he resembles a greater genius of ouf own, who makes but an indifferent figure in the dramatis persona of the sixteenth century, and whose best part is said to have been that of the Ghost in Hamlet. I in- troduced myself to this amiable Frenchman as aji English Traveller desirous of paying my respects to a man whose writings had afforded me so much entertainment. He received me with the greatest civility, and gave me a general invitation to his house. He never failed to present to you a poor toad-eating Jesuit, le Perc Adam, for the sake of a joke that might have been good the first time, but was an insolent cruelty ever after. " Je vousj^nsente Mansuur VOL.' I. a h 34 le Pcre Adam qui n*est pas h premier des hom^ mes." Like other geniuses he had his particu- larities, and in society was sometimes agreeable, sometimes otherwise. He was polite in his manners, but satirical in his reflections, to which ill-health did not a little contribute. He told a ridiculous story, made, I believe, on purpose, at the moment, to disconcert a lady present, remarkable for her prudery : " You have not heard, perhaps," said he, " that a lady, the other day, whose name I shall not mention, questioned her cook-maid about a sweet-bread she had or- dered to be put by : * Betty,* said she, * What is become of the sweet-bread ?' * I have eat it, Madam,' replied Betty : — * But I longed for it;' — * So did I, Madam !' — « But I am with child:'' — * So am I, Madam:' — But I am with child by your master^ hussey !' — And^ so am /, Madam !" An acquaintance of ours. Lord N , was not less ludicrous on a similar oc- casion. Being in a boat on the river Thames, with the Duchess of B (a lady of the same stamp), and seeing some boys bathing, cried out, affecting great surprise : *' Look, Duchess ! Look at those naked girls in the water ! Is it not a shame?" — " Girls! my Lord, they are hoys !" — " Your Grace knows best.'* But, to return to Voltaire : his features were ugly in the extreme, but the activity of his mind was ex- pressed 35 pressed in his countenance. No man ever wrote more agreeably, — it is much to be la- mented that he sTiould have done more harm than good. I am sorry to add that he was an enemy to Shakespeare, whom he both copied and condemned — But who would not forgive la jalousie du MetieVy that frailty of hu- man nature, to the indefatigable friend of the unfortunate Call as. The fame of Shake- speare is, out of the reach of slander. — Time, that universal destroyer, is the stamp of genius, and the Works of Homer will be read when the pyramids of Egypt shall be no more. KoussEAu,not less famous for his misfortunes than his talents, persecuted and proscribed at Geneva, was at that time at Moitier Travers, a high mountain in the neighbourhood of Neuf Chatel, whither he had retired sulkily from the world, and from whence he wrote his Lettres ie la MontagnCy not the best of his perfor- mances. I took some trouble to get at this ex- traordinary man at the risk of not seeing him at last, for report said, he would see nobody. I passed, however, several hours in his company very agreeably, but found the celebrated author of Emile, as I expected, differing as much in his manners, as in his writings, from his more for- tunate rival. He told me that the only reason that prevented him taking refuge in England, was -D 2 the 36 the great kindness he had received from the French during twenty-one years residence a- mong them, which did not permit him to seek an asylum in a country in enmity with them; ** malgre toute I'envie qu'il en avoii,'* I know your partiality to this extraordinary man, whose talents you admire, and whose misfortunes you pity; but you will not deny that his writings also are in many parts exceptionable. I have just been reading his Emile : — When the Gover- nor of Emilcj to try the patience of his pupil, supposes the possibility of Sophy's death, and afks what he would do in such a case : — " What J would doy" cries Emile, " / know not ; but this J knowy that I would never see again the face of the man who told 7}ie of it." — What a lesson of Philosophy ! — He also says, ** j^e hais les livres, ils n'apprennent qu' a parltr de ace qu'on ne s^ait pas."-— 'Whsit a declaration from a Man of Letters ! Though the death of these great men is a loss to Switzerland, should you pass a summer at Geneva you will not want employment ; make the Tour du Lac, — see the salt-works at Aigle,* * Every hundred weight of water contains eleven pounds and ahalf of salt. Thi-y make two thousand five hundred pounds of salt a day. visit 37 — visit Lausanne, Vevay, and Meilleurie, where I remember to have read the NouvelleEloise at a time of my life that rendered every spot it mentioned interesting. Follow the Rhone to its source, and see scenes of savage nature that set the pencil of Salvator at defiance. The Val- lais merits your observation, where, for several weeks together they never see the rays of the sun,* and where the air at no time has a free circulation, — where, among the inhabitants you see creatures scarcely human ; Cretins, whose sagacity is infinitely beneath the instinct of your dog, and whose stature, about four feet high, is rendered more disgustful by immense goitres. t At the Grand St. Bernard you will experi- ence another atmosphere, — perpetual winter, where the thermometer, even in summer, is sel- dom above the freezing point. The Convent, which is one thousand two hundred and forty- one toises above the level of the fca,is probably the highest house in Europe : it takes its name from a French Monk of the twelfth century, who, in the different capacities of saint and hero, founded a hundred and sixty convents, and sent * Three weeks before the winter solstice, g.nd three weeks after. t A kind of wen in the neck, which sometimes grows to ^ immense size. in. 38 innumerable thousands of infatuated wretches to the Crusades, preposterously called Holy wars, from whence they were never to return. The Monks are twelve in number, and of the Au- gustine order. They are of infii)ite service to poor travellers, who frequently would perish from cold and hunger, were it not for their as- sistance. During the winter months they con- stantly send out a person accompanied by great dogs trained for that purpose, to look for such as have lost their way in the snow, or are op- pressed with hunger and fatigue. If they sleep they die, — and yet, I fancy no death is attended with so little pain. We all know how pleasant sleep is after fatigue, and these sleepers awake no more. I went thither in the month of August, and had occasion to remark a strange confusion of the seasons, not less than the extremes of summer and winter in the same day. I rode in my waistcoat in the Vallais, and arrived at the Convent not only with my great coat on, but was glad enough to warm myself by the great fire I found there. This is one passage into Italy, and by some thought to be that of Han- nibal, The Glaciere de Chamogni is not less worthy your attention : it has the appearance of a frozen sea, and the ice, which fills the whole vale, has 39 has probably been there ever since the deluge.* The Crevices, and there are many, are danger- ous : be cautious how you venture over them, nor stir a step without your guide. Cherries were not ripe at Chamogni in the month of Au- gust ; — they had not begun hay-making — wo- men were then mowing the grass, and the corn which had been sown in May was but just come into ear. If you have time to spare, there is not a can- ton in Switzerland that has not, besides its na- tural beauties, some particularities either in the government, production, industry, manners, or even dress of its inhabitants that merit observa- tion. The Protestant Cantons are better peo- pled, more rich, and more flourishing than the Catholic ; and you will observe that, notwith- standing its barren mountains, they reckon a thousand inhabitants for every league square : — France reckons eight hundred only. This ex- traordinary difference is only to be accounted for by the difference of their religion and go- , * The ice that melts in the summer, is renewed by the snow that falls in the winter. The Glaciere is also sup- plied by the snow which melts on the neighbouring moun- tains during the day, and falls into the Valley, where it freezes after sun-set. vern-p ' 40 vernment, Lavater, the celebrated physiog* nomist, will discover the disposition of your mind by the look of your countenance ; and Michael Schuppack, called, the Physician of the Mountain, will determine the state- of your body from the appearance of your water. If you are a musician, listen to the Renz des VacheSy the favourite Swiss tune, and remember that useful lesson, de Gustibus non est disputan- dum* You may have heard, perhaps, that this famous tune is forbidden to be played by the Sw-ss troops in the service of France, as it occa- sions la mcdadie du pays (a longing to return home). It is not so charming but any other man except a Swiss may listen to it without danger. See the fall of the Rhine, and, if an admirer of mechanism, examine the curious bridge at SchafFhouse, a single arch, a span of three hundred and forty-two feet, made by a com-., mon carpenter.* If picturesque beauties please you, visit the lakes, and if your search after knowledge, be proof against fatigue and danger, the summit of Mount Blanc is an enterprise worthy of you. Mount Blanc is not only the highest mountain Ulrick Grubenma» of Appenzell, in 41 m Europe, but probably in the world, if measured from the base on which it stands.* The arsenal at Berne presents you "with the statue of William Tell, shooting at an apple on the head of his son. The history of that event is as interesting as it is strange. Gesler, Governor of Uri, proud, insolent, and brutal, not content with the respect that was due to his office, but intoxicated with power^ fixed his hat on a pole in the market-place at AltorfF, capital of the province, and ordered the inhabitants on pain of death, to bow to it as they passed. William Tell, a young man, whose principles M^ere republican, and whose spirit could ill brook this vile idolatry, disobeyed the order, and was condemned by the tyrant to shoot with a cross- bow an apple placed on the head of his favourite son, which missing, designedly or otherwise, be was immediately to be put to death. Tell, %laocked at the order — shuddering at the risk — preferred instant death to such a trial, and made a voluntary offer of his own life to save that of *, Monsieur de Saussfre, Professor of Natural His- tory at Geneva, ascended it on the first of August, 1787, as Monsieur Pa cc a rd, Physician at Chamouni, the first adventurer, had done the year before. his 42 . his innocent child, but was told that unless he submitted to his sentence, both should die. Re- monstrance was of no avail — resistance impos- sible, and Tell submitted to his fate. The awful moment arrives — the market-place is crowded with spectators, and Gesler himself present. — The son is placed at a short distance before his father ^ — an apple on his head. Fancy to yourself the solemn silence that then pre- vailed — fancy to yourself what were the feelings of the multitude, of the son, of the father : — at length, the arrow flies, and pierces the apple, when it should have pierced the Tyrant's heart.* The triumph of innocence had been incom- plete had it ended thus. A coward is always as suspicious as he is cruel, and Gesler perceiving another arrow which Tell had endeavoured to conceal, asked him for what purpose that arrow was intended ? — " For you /" — replied the hero, — ** for you ! had I slain my son.'" A brave answer like this, no tyrant could forgive : Tell * Suetonius tells us that Domitian could shoot an nrrow, even at a considerable distance, betwixt a boy's fingers, without wounding either of them. Aster wrote on his arrow: " To the right eye o/'PiiiLir." These rcoder this account of William Tell less improbable. was 4.3 was immediately seized, bound, and forced into a boat destined to transport him to a fortress on the bank of the lake ; where, to see his orders exe- cuted, and perhaps to enjoy the distress of his victim, Gksler accompanies him. The dag- ger, which though unperceived, still hangs by a single thread over the head of the innocent, when guilty to such an excess could not fail to fall on the Governor of Uri. — The very ele- ments take part against him, force him to un- Jbind his captive, and seek his own safety from the skill of the man on whom he had so lately exercised such unheard of cruelty. Tradition relates that, by the extraordinary exertions of Tell, the boat approached the shore, when he instandy leapt out, and making his escapcj lay in wait for his Excellency the Governor, at a place which he knew he must pass, and there ( I should have seen it with pleasure} struck the tyrant to the heart, and freed his country. I now address you as a soldier, and recom- mend the military history of this warlike people to your attention. Famous have been their ex- ploits ! — Inferior always in number to their ene- my, they either conquered, or bravely died. I do not recollect one dishonourable retreat. Morat still possesses the precious relics of a defeated army, and Saint Jaques, — Pardon me, ye im- mortal heroes of Thermopyle; pardon me, if I drop 44 drop a tear to the memory of your rivals at Saint Jaques ! * ^ The army of the I>UKE of Burgundy, consisting of forty-five thousand men, was entirely defeated at Moral : twenty-five thousand were loft dead on the field of battle. Over the building, where their bones are preserved, you read the following laconic inscription : " Deo Opt. Max. " Caroli inclyti et fortissimi Burgundiae Ducis Exercitus Muratum Obsidens ab Helvetiis csesus hoc sui Monumen- tum reliquit. Anno imcccclxxvi." At the Plains of Saint Jacques near Basle, fifteen hundred Swiss engaged the whole French army, consisting of thirty thousand men, where, after a terrible slaughter of the enemy, they were all slain except ten, who, on their return home, were declared infamous for surviving their countrj'^men. The French army was commanded by the Dauphin, afterwards Louis XI. The battle was fought the 26th of August, 1444, and the bodies of eight thousand French were left dead on the plain. It has been said of the Swiss that fell : — " Ad extremum non victi Suitenses, scd vjnccndo fatigati inter ingcntes hostium Catervas ceci- derunt," LET- 45 LETTER V. FROM Geneva, or from Lyons, you may go to Turin either by voiturier or post. In a poor country like this you must not expect to find excellent roads, or good accommodations.—- Ratding cascades and roaring rivers, woods, rocks, and mountains, supply the deficiency at first, perhaps, not disagreeably, and afi:erwards, pchzienza^ a word constantly used by the Italians in all their distresses, and the first an English- man should learn in travelling through their country. The more you consider the Monte della grotta, the more it will astonish you, where an excel- lent road was cut through a solid rock by Charles Emanuel II, Duke of Savoy, in the year 1670 : a stupendous work, little infe- rior to that of Posilippo.* The inscription does * Grotta di Posilippo, at Naples, thought to have beea ^ade by Luct^tLVs. honor 46 honor both to the Prince and the Author : it is elegant without flattery, and mentions the dif- ficulties he overcame without exceeding the truth.—" Natura occlusam, Romanis intentatam, ceteris desperatam^ (^c/* Some think that it was near les Echelles that Hannibal made his first attack on the tremen- dous rocks which opposed his passage into Italy. Three different places have been named by Plutarch, LivY,and Polybius. I should myself incline to the litde Saint Bernard, for this reason: Polybius wrote nearest the time the event happened, was intimate in the family of Scipio, and what is perhaps most material of all, was himself a soldier. Livy tells us that he dissolved the rock with vinegar.* However ridiculous this story may appear, you will allow, in whatever manner he effected it, it was a great attempt worthy the enterprising spirit of that brave Carthagenian. Here I saw a poor soli- tary girl attending a few goats and sheep, that brought to my mind la Bergere des Alpes, t and I was at that moment sentimentally enough in- clined to fancy I saw many beauties that upon nearer acquaintance I might not have found. * Also Juvenal, — " Et Monies nipit aceto." Sat. 10. f Mar M OK TEL, Contes Moraux, Here 47 Here I had the happiness to afford some re- lief to a poor traveling Enghshman, not because he was my countryman, but because he was in distress, and in a strange land. I flatter myself I should have given an Italian the preference in England for the same good reason. The plea- sure a generous mind receives in relieving the distress of a fellow-creature, is in proportion to his wants, and above all local prejudice. I ad- mire these liberal sentiments in another, I en- courage them in myself, and wish every Briton thought the same. If you mean to see the grande Chartreuse ^ an object deserving a traveller's notice, you turn off at les Echelles, Should you at any time visit Grenoble, remember Bayard's tomb : a gentle- man, who, by a conduct as irreproachable as gal- lant, obtained from an envious world a tide beyond the power of Sovereigns to bestow :— he was called to the day of his death, " Le Chevalier sans reproche, et sans peurJ* Before you arrive at Chamberry you will see a cascade that is said to fall one hundred and fifty feet perpendicular. Chamberry, capital of Savoy, and once the residence of its Dukes, is a small ill populated town of a melancholy appear- ance, not ill suited to the poverty of the inhabi- tants. It is well situated, and as a summer resi- dence not without advantages, but partakes too much 48 much of the Alpine snow to be agreeable in winter. The Savoyards are a brave and gene- rous people, industrious though not encouraged, and chearful though oppressed. In former times they were a warlike and respectable nation. The Allobroges are frequently mentioned in the history of ancient Rome, and the conspiracy of Cataline was discovered by means of their Am- bassadors. Alas ! where are their Ambassadors now ? Modern Savoyards are reduced to the dreadful alternative of starving at home, or sub- mitting to the meanest of all occupations abroad. I admire the character of the people, and lament the cruel policy of the Court of Piedmont that keeps this country poor, as the surest means of securing it to themselves. In this neighbour- hood are the baths of Aix, a chalybiate water, much resorted to in the proper season. The wine of Mont Melian is famous. At Aiguebelle you should see the remains of the village of Randan, destroyed in the year 1750, by the fall of a "Tnountain. The fate of Randan was similar to that of Valeia* Les Avalenches in some parts of the Alps are dangerous in the spring.* ■ Travellers at that time are careful * An Avalanche is a large body of snow, which, detach* iiig itself from the mountain, overwhelms all beneath. to 49 to make as little noise as possible, lest the sudden vibration of the air should detach the snow that is hanging over their heads. I have read of one, four hundred feet long, ninety-four wide, and sixty-six deep, that buried for thirty-seven days two women and a child in a stable, who, during that whole time lived on the milk of two goats they had with them, drinking the snow water which they melted with their hands. The goats were better off — they had their usual pro- vender within their reach. The roads in this country are made and kept in repair by the parishes. The poor peasant is obliged to work in proportion to the number of bis cattle ; an increase of wealth only exposes bim to an increase of oppression. Our turn- pikes, though expensive, are upon a better prin- ciple, for those only contribute who are bene- fited by them. You will pass over many a tot- tering bridge, and travel on the brink of many a |)recipice. There is no danger, and yet I could Dot help sometimes looking down upon them with ^he same terror as if they were to be my grave. On one of these mountains a Hermit has chosen his residence. — You will seldom see a spot better fitted to meditation. But when I consider the gloom that surrounds it ; the slender fare, pro- bably such only as the woods afford, and the ri- gour of a long winter, eight months at the least, VOL. i^ E I am 50 I am at a loss to conceive what abominable crime that man had committed who fint thought such mortification necessary. The horror oFthe scene reminded me of the reply the old hermit made to a young fellow of a very dissolute life, " Father," said he, "you will be badly off if there is not another world!" — " True son," replied the hermit, " but you will be worse off if there is." As you approach Lanenbourg the vale be- comes narrower, the ascent more rapid, and the face of the country more miserable. The in- habitants are poor in the extreme : they cultivate a little corn on the side of the mountain where- ever corn will grow : in summer they make the bread they eat in winter — bread that they soften with the melted snow, and, I make no doubt, frequently with their tears. The minds of the people are as little cultivated, and the manners as little improved, as the country they inhabit. Here nature reigns in despite of art, and here probably are the cloud-capped*' mountains that will last decay. As for the outward appearance of the natives, itis scarcely human, and we might Conclude with the Poet, that, ** Some of nature'.s journeymen had made them, and not made them well; they imitate humanity so abominably." Many are disfigured by goitres : — various have been the conjectures concerning this strange ex- cre- 51 crescence, — I had myself my doubts till I read Captain Cook's Second Voyage to the Southern Hemisphere ; he tells us that the melted ice which his sailors drankforwantof water produced a si- milar effect. InTartary the goitre is observed in similar situations, as in the Alps ; females are more subject to it than males. Forster at- tributes the cause to a deprivation of fixed air in the iced water : others account for it more simply by the continual use of water always cold in the extreme. In either case, the opinion pretty generally received of a mineral substance in the water itself is completely refuted. These goitres sometimes grow to an immense size, are hor- ridly ugly, and yet custom has rendered them so familiar to the eyes of the inhabitants, that they are considered as a beauty. I have been told that a stranger going into a church at Saint Jean de Maurienne, was laughed at for being with- out one ! It is said, however, that the Priest rebuked them for it in the wordsof our Saviour, and wisely remarked that, " It is better to enter into Paradise without a goitre^ than with the best of goitres to suffer everlasting damnation."* You will see many an orang outang^ but not one Antinous. It is true that animal treads close * Vide eighteenth chapter of Saint Matthew. E 2 upon ' 52 upon our heels. I shall never forget an obser- vation of a noble Lord of my acquaintance; he said, " He never saw a monkey but he was ready to shake him by the hand, and call him Cousin:" — a strange proof how little we know ourselves, for, had he seen himself as we saw him, he would have been the last person to have made the observation. You may judge what kind of living we met with in this poor country. You may hear talk of hares and partridges, gelinottes and cocs de bruyere, but you will not see one of them.* The fowls we ate were killed on purpose for us, and were tougher than the meat of which I.ady Mary WoRTLEY Mom TAG UE complains. Had these poor people been Turks, and our Vetturinos Janissaries, they must have been utterly ruined. t At length we arrived at Lanenbourg, a well- peopled village at the foot of Mount Cenis, the passage of which mountain constantly employs the principal part of the inhabitants. Your * The hares and partridges upon the Alps are said to turn white in the winter. t Lady Mary Wortlky Montague's Janissaries obliged the Turks to pay them for the use of their teeth, Avorn with doing them the honor of eating their meat.— Vide that Lady's Letters. Vet- 53 Vetturino has all the trouble of dealing with them, but were you to travel post they could take no advantage of your ignorance. The price is fixed, and a person appointed to provide the number of men and mules that are necessary for you : no imposition is suffered. In this the King of Sardinia differs from all other Sove- reigns, and kindly takes the ignorant and de- fenceless traveller under his protection, — thank him in your heart, for he saves you much cx- pence and trouble. Those Travellers who have been brought up In Sybarite eflPeminacy, whose tender limbs are offended with the folds of a rose leaf — are fa- tigued at the sight of another's labour, and ex- pect all the comforts of their own country in the midst of these frozen mountains, will have a bad time of it at Lanenbourg, while those who are urged on by an interesting pursuit, be it what it may, will look forward like Hannibal towards the fertile plains of Italy, and a moment's re- flection on the hardships he suffered in his pas- sage, may make them think their coarse living, luxury. Comfort, my good Sir, is unknown in Savoy. — What we English call comfort, is not understood I believe in any other country, nor to be ex^rest in any other language. It is rest of the body, it is repose of the mind, without business, without bustle, and with every thing con- 54 convenient and pleasant about you : — it is often lost in a palace, and found in a cottage, — it is in itself a trifle : — a trifle gives it — a trifle takes it away : — it is a cheerful room — a good fire — a dish of tea — but — not as I am now drinking it, with a chimney that smokes, a door I can't shut, and a window that is broken. It would be dif- ficult to relate all I suffered at Lanenbourg ;— I never passed such a night! — I slept in my cloaths — the bed was full of bugs — the house full of people— and, to mend the matter, my good neighbours above, p d upon me through the ceiling — I dreamt I was drowning, and fancied I was in the sea.* We were ready early — we had no temptation to lengthen our stay at Lanenbourg. When the morning appeared, and the chairs were pre- pared, we set out nobly escorted, each chair having six or eight chairmen to attend it, and ta relieve one another.t The avant guard consisted of a considerable number of mules loaded with * The beds in this country have no testers. ■f A light elbow chair without legs, having a board slung to support your feet. It is fastened to two long poles, and carried like a sedan. By writing to Turin, sedan chairs may be procured, if illness or the badness of the weather should make them necessary. our 55 our baggage, and the wreck of a carriage that seemed so completely undone as to leave little hopes of ever being restored to its former state,— our servants and Vetturinos mounted, brought up the rear. The ascent of the mountain is rendered as easy as the height will permit.* To gain the summit you may suppose a work of labour,— it is also a work of time. Many are the resting places, and many the relays. On one of these occasions a dispute arose who should carry my children, or rather who should not carry me; the consequence of which was, that they set me down, and the dispute continued so long, and Was so obstinately contested, that I began to think they never intended to take me up again. We arrived at the top at last. Should you re- turn in winter, you may descend rapidly on a sledge (v'hich they call ramasser)^ and in a few minutes find yourself at the bottom of a moun- tain that took you more than an hour to ascend. It is not dangerous, and saves much time and trouble. The plain that now opened before us is still encompassed by higher mountains where the snow never melts. I once passed mount Cenis in summer j the plain was then covered * The Plain is one thousand toises above the Mediter- ranean. with 56 with flowers ; it was now covered with snow. Excellent pasture then formed a delightful con- trast with the misery that surrounded it— all now was of one colour, and all was horrid. It is about six miles over. The lake is well stocked with excellent trout, though it is frozen at least seven months out of the twelve.* At the Grande Croix your chairmen stop to refresh themselves. It is not the interest of the traveller they should stop too long, lest they should drink too much. A few miles distant on the right is the famous Col de VAssiette^ where Count Belli sle made an unsuccessful attack in the year 1749, and lost his life; but, what is more to be lamented, sacrificed a parcel of brave fellows in an enterprise more worthy of Don Quixote than of an experienced com- mander, A letter to his mistress was found in his pocket after his death, giving her the news of his victory — though the general was short-sighted, you will allow that he was provident. From one of these mountains, (it must ever, I believe, remain uncertain which) Hann ibal first viewed * Cattle are brought hither at St. Jean, and remain till the first snow falls, which is usually some time in October. The cows arc milked twice a day, and give from sixteen t^ twenty pints. The cheese is excellent. the 57 the rich vale of Lombardy. He had employed fifteen days in his passage — two days he passed on the summit : — Turin was his first military enterprise. The descent into Piedmont is rapid; it v/ould be dangerous were the chairmen less expert. At Novalese we dined while our baggage was visited and our carriage put together. I can- not express the pleasure I felt at my arrival on this side the Alps. I doubt if the sight of the long- wished- for plains of Italy was more wel- come to Hannibal who had suffered innumer- able difficulties, had lost three thousand horse and the best of his infantry, than the inn at Novalese to your humble servant — half starved with cold and hunger. We slept at Suze, the first town in Piedmont, a place of considerable strength, which secures this pass into Italy. Here are the remains of a triumohal arch said to be of the time of Augustus, the first with which you meet ; see it if you can, for at your return it will no longer be worth your notice.' If you arrive in summer you will be astonished at the LiiccioleSy little flies that have the phosphoric quality of the glow-worm, and are peculiar to this side the Alps ; — at Naples the air is full of them. At the Palace of Rivoli, Victor Amadeus was confined and died. He had resigned his crown 58 crown to his son some years before, and was afterwards weak enough to wish to take it back. The Sovereign who abdicates is seldom so long between his throne and the grave.* From Rivoli to Turin the road is beautiful. — An avenue of about six miles in length is ter- minated by the Superga.t On the seventh day we arrived at the capital of Piedmont. * The abdication of Victor Amadeus II. is thought to have been a stroke of policy to avoid a momentary evil. He chose Chambery for his retreat at the age of sixty-four. This took place September 2d, 1730. He returned to Piedmont the August following, and went to jNIontcallier, vhere shortly after, intuiguing to recover the throne, he was made prisoner by his son, and sent to Rivoli, where he died. Had the father siJcceeded, it is probable the son had suffered the same fate. The King had already married the Ccuntess St. Sebastian, his mistress, and the succession might have taken another course. t This church was built by Victor Amadeus to satisfy a vow, made when the town was besieged by the French in 1706. He is buried here, and it is since become Ihe mausoleum of the family. LET- 59 LETTER VI. TURIN is the capital of Piedmont, and the residence of the King of Sardinia, a title taken from an island in the Mediterranean, otherwise he is only Duke of Savoy, and his son . Prince of Piedmont. It was Victor Amadeus Duke of Savoy, who exchanged Sicily for Sar- dinia, an exchange dictated by necessity, not by interest, for the title of King excepted, the ad- vantage received from this island, famous at the time of the Repubhc of Rome, and frequently a cause of her quarrels with the Carthagenians, is very inconsiderable. Nothing but an insuperable dislike to sea ex-, peditions prevented my visiting Sardinia last summer. An account I have since received of the manners of the inhabitants from a friend who is just returned, has satisfied every wish, and un- less I had as many lives as a cat, should scarcely be 60 be persuaded to venture myself among them. The equipage of a Sardinian is a horse, a gun, and a stiletto. , He always goes armed, even to church, and is thus at all times prepared to defend himself, or offend his neighbour. The island is in continual warfare, and the strength of the go- vernment is insufficient to punish offenders. A few months ago a pitched battle was fought be- tween two parishes ; the curate, who was at the head of one of them was immediately made rec- tor, and all the others pardoned. The Governor told my friend that he knew no better method than to reward, as he dared not punish. But to return to Turin. The town is pleasantly situated on a plain at the foot of the Alps, seven hundred and thirty- five feet above the level of the sea, is three miles in circumference, and contains about eighty thousand inhabitants. The new town is well built and regular ; the streets are strait, wide, and not ill paved, and are easily kept clean, as they can be overflowed at pleasure. La rue du Po is beautiful. Large squares and magnificent buildings are not wanting, though they are nei- ther numerous nor remarkable. Churches there are many, few worth seeing, the Chapel of Le Saint Suaire excepted, on account of itsprecious relic, the winding-sheet of our Saviour. This happens 61 happens not to be the only one; but the Pied- montois wisely persuade themselves that it is the true one.* When the Abbe de Marolles was shewn the head of Saint John at Amiens, he said, as he kissed it, " God be thanked^ this is the fifth or sixth I have already had the honor of kiss~ ing.** The Superga you should see for the sake of the view. It was built to satisfy a vow made by Victor Amadeus in 1706, when the town was besieged by the French. — A French author observes with some humour, and probably not without some truth, that he must have been con- foundedly frightened to have made such a vow, and erect such a building at such an enormous expence. It was from this elevated spot that Victor Amadeus and Prince Eugene recon- noitred the French army : the Capuchins' Con- vent you should also visit ; — the latter was a principal post in possession of the French at the time of the siege. The Palace of the King is well furnished with pictures of the best masters ; it would exceed ray plan to describe them, or the famous Gerrard Dow would not be the only one I should recommend to your observation. * Besanfon, capital of Franche Comtc, has also itjs Saint Suaire, as well as Turin and ^ome. The 62 The extreme purity of this Court has banished some naked beauties, which do honor in the execution at least to their authors, and are worth your inquiry. The other Palaces are those of the Duke of Savoy and Prince of Carignan. The citadel, which is one of the strongest in Europe, cannot be seen without leave : — as for me, I had enough of citadels at Luxembourg ;— besides, I will confess to you, although you are a soldier, that I admire nothing about them ex- cept their neatness. I might it is true have been better acquainted with their excellencies, having studied fortification when at Geneva under a famous engineer, at whose house I boarded, but at that age the old gentleman's discourse, and the terms he used, only served, I fear, to put me in mind of his fair daughter. The army of Piedmont is respectable, and consists in time of peace of not less than thirty thousand men. The military order of Saint Maurice is a green riband worn like that of Saint Lou IS in France. The Annunciation, the most ancient order in Europe, is the blue riband of Savoy. The government is absolute. The executive .power is in the hands of a Senate ap- pointed by the King. The revenue is about a million sterling, which is expended with great frugality. The police, I am told, is good : the people are quiet and seem contented. Bread 63 Bread and meat are sold at a fixed price ; the shape of the bread is particular — you buy a stick of bread, not a loaf: those who like crust belter than crumb should eat no other. The commerce of Piedmont consists chiefly of cattle and raw silk, much of the latter returns again into the country after it is made up. The balance of trade is not in their favor, and more money is sent out of the country than comes into it. Silk stockings are famous at Turin ; if you want any buy them there. The silk of Piedmont is said to be superior to any other, but whether the leaves of the mulberry are of a better quality, or the water in which the silk is spun off con- tributes to its strength, I cannot determine. You know this is the white mulberry, a tree planted an purpose for the silk-worm : the leaf is smoother and more delicate than ours, but the fruit is not good to eat. . The silk-worm is hatched in the month of April, and is regularly fed with these leaves till it spins the silk. Shortly after it makes it appearance in the shape of a grub, then of a moth, when they engender, lay their eggs, and die. Sensuality might envy this last state of their existence, w^hen probably the excess of their pleasure is in proportion to the short duration of their lives. The silk is spoiled if the grub eats its way out, to prevent which they preserve only enough to breed, and kill the rest 64 rest by the heat of an oven. The males are easily distinguished, one end being pointed ; the females havp both ends round. The climate of England is not favourable to the silk-worm, a native of China, but it is the peculiar privilege of our fortunate isle to enrich hefself by the pro- duce of other countries : they were first intro- duced into Europe by the Emperor Justinian, to whom the modern Romans are obliged for a piece of effeminacy unknown to the Caesars. — At the time of Aurelian, silk was valued at its weight in gold. The Academy at present is Httle frequented by strangers, nor is the University in any great re- pute. Science seldom flourishes under a mili- tary government, nor do the Arts, music ex- cepted, receive much encouragement. Pug- niani, Giardini, Viotti, &:c., are Pied- montois, and the unfortunate David Rizzio, a better musician than a statesman, to whom the Scotch may probably have been indebted for the elegance of their ballads, was also of this coun- try. The famous Bodoni, a native of Pied- mont, is established at Parma. I think it is the observation of Baretti, that Piedmont never produced a Poet : — I dont know how it should, — till the other day they had neither Grammar nor Dictionary I The language is a patois, partly French, partly Italian ; and so strangely 65 Strangely corrupted, that it is not understood by either of those nations : however. Count Alfieri has at last effaced that blot from their character, and has written several tragedies in which you will find sentiments not unworthy an ancient Roman. The Public Library of the University is open to you when you please, and in the Museum you will find entertainment for an idle hour. La Table Isiaque is covered with hieroglyphics, which the learned world will be obliged to any one to explain. The Hospital I am told is well provided with every necessary convenience. At the Apothi- carie medicines are administered to the poor gratist dindi physicians and surgeons appointed to attend them. The Opera is one of the best in Italy ; it is di- rected by a set of gentlemen who receive the profits, and take the trouble and expence upon themselves. The Theatre is immense; nor is it unusual to see a company of soldiers or a troop of horse make their appearance upon the stage. It was at this theatre, among other extraordinary things, that I saw Mithridates sprain his ancle by falling into the sea. The Court in my time was as regular as the clock. The opera was of necessity to finish exactly at ten j and if one air took more time in singing than usual, the next was shortened to bring matters even. The VOL. I, F great 66 great theatre is open only during the carnival. There is another theatre for burlettas and plays. Boxes are always to be bought for the night.— The Noblesse (all of them are not rich) will sometimes accommodate foreigners with theirs when they do not go themselves. An odd thing happened,— I had a box for the season, — a lady of my acquaintance borrowed the key for one night, — I sent it her, and having unexpectedly occasion a few hours after for a box myself, I sent to buy one, and, to my great astonishment, bought my own key again. The pit in Italy is more convenient than in France, where the com- pany are obhged to stand, though I know not why they are made to undergo so unnecessary and so severe a penance. The royal villas in the neighbourhood are worth your seeing. At Stupigny you may hunt with the King. Though much inferior to the diversion you are used to in England, the coup d'csil is finfi ; I' equipage de chasscy magnifiqice ; and the hunting interesting on this side the Alps at least, for on leaving Turin you will not see another hound. Formerly there was a public breakfast, and those who were of the hunt and wore the uniform partook of it. It was a hot meal more resembling a dinner than a breakfast, and the hard riding afterwards seldom failed to give me the head-ach. The etiquette observed here 61 here in hunting, of not passing the King, might displease a keen sportsman. Whenever I saw Royalty, I took another road. It was at my return from one of these hunts that I met with the accident W told you of. The fair of Montcallier was unluckily on the same day as the hunt, and all Turin was assembled there. The road had two lines of coaches returning homewards, leaving an interval but just sufficient for one carriage to pass. I was in an English post-chaise with four horses. My postillions, I know not why, fancied I was in a hurry, and broke the rank, — in consequence of which we presently met an unfortunate man on horseback, who, not having room to pass, was knocked down, and run over ; and the struggles of his horse over- turned the chaise. The scene was dreadful !— Figure to yourself a carriage overturned — har- ness broken — a horse killed — a man to all appear- ance dying — two bleeding figures getting out of the window of the chaise, and two postillions on their knees expecting to be instantly put to death, begging for mercy : a Confessor who was hold- ing up the cross to the dying man, added not a litde to the horror of a scene that would make a very interesting picture. Madame de Sevigne relates with infinite humour a story somewhat si- milar, but as I am not a Bishop, instead of cutting off the man's ears and breaking his bones, 1 had him taken care of and cured at my ej< pence. F 2 The 68 The climate of Piedmont may not please you. It is not unusual for a place that is very cold in winter, to be equally hot in summer. It is the case of Turin. The spring and autumn are the best seasons, and you may then be sure of a good burletta opera. Should you come into Italy late in the year, and intend to pass two winters on this side the Alps, see the beginning of the carnival at Turin, and the end of it at Milan. Pass the sunimer in Tuscany, the fol- lowing winter at Rome and Naples ; part of the spring at Venice, and as much time as you can afterwards spare in Switzerland. Private apartments are to be had at Turin, and at the inns good accommodation. The Turinese live more a la Fran^oise than other Italians. The cookery is not bad. You who are fond of trufles will regale on those of Pied- mont: it is a pity the smell is not as agreeable as the taste— they make the breath stink worse than onions. It was here, in the year 1765, I met that eccentric genius Sterne — Alas, poor Yorick! many a merry hour have I passed in thy company, admired thy wit, and laughed at thy vagaries ! — hours that might have been more profitably employed, but never more agreeably. The Turinese nobility have many indulgen- cies : they have one disadvantage ; they cannot absent themselves from the kingdom without permission: the policy may be good with regard to 69 to Piedmont, yet the being restrained from going where he pleases, is the most severe re- striction that can be laid on man. The women are handsome, and are thought to partake of the warmth of the Italian climate. They have no Cicisbeo's, persons whose office I shall explain hereafter, but intrigue a la mode de France, whose manners they imitate. Strangers are not ill received by them, but their own officers better; and as the garrison is relieved every two years, the ladies are accustomed to variety. In- constancy is first occasioned by necessity, and continued afterwards by choice. La Bruyere says, " Qu'il est plus rare de trouver une Jemme qui n'eut eu qu'un amant, que d^en trouver une qui ii'en tut point eu;" — though husbands are no longer jealous, all are not equally patient. The Marquis having discovered a private door in his garden wall, by which his wife's gallant entered by night, he had it walled up a few hours before the time of his arrival. The lover was punctual, and passed the greatest part of the night in searching after a door that no longer existed;' — the lady passed her time not less dis- agreeably in expectation and disappointment. Early in the morning the door was replaced. The lover swore and intreated, but all in vain ; the lady was inexorable; the door gave the lie to all he said, and he was discarded for ever. If 70 If you are at Turin on New-Year's Day, you will see the Court-dress of the ladies. It is a curious one, and occasions an extraordinary exhibition of bare bosoms, which unluckily does not become all alike. Here you will be made acquainted with. the amusement of a Corso. It is strait; but, in other respects, like the Ring in Hyde Park, where the beaux and the belles of the last cen- tury proudly displayed their taste in horses and equipage. You dine at two, make your afternoon visits at four, and are in bed by eleven. Pekin is not more quiet at midnight than the capital of Pied- mont.* If you can accustom yourself to hours so different from your own, you will find the Royal Family gracious in the extreme ; the no- bility well bred and courteous j and the society better than in most towns in Italy. Perhaps I am partial to a people from w^hom I have re- ceived civilities, and to a Court from which I have received favors, that I shall ever remem- ber with respect and gratitude. Come, and judge for yourself. * At Pekin chains are fixed across the streets at an early hour of the night. Centinels are posted, and patroles go the rounds J nor are any midnight diversions suffered. LET- 71 LETTER VII. YOUR route from Turin will probably de- pend on the time you intend to bestow on Italy. If you arrive in the autumn, and can spare one year only on a country that, to be well known, requires several, you had better take the shortest road by Piacenza to Florence, that you may get to Rome and Naples for the carnival. If, on the contrary, you are not in a hurry, and are in those happy circumstances that permit you to consider amusement and conveniency, and unite pleasure with profit, pass your first carnival at Turin and Milan : in no part of Italy is society so good, nor are Englishmen any where so well received. Here your French will serve you. Study Italian in the mean time under a good master, and make yourself well acquainted with that language before you want it. Your chief difficulty will be with regard to Genoa. M 2 Genoa. If you pass your summer in Tuscany, the best summer residence on this side the Alps, embark at Leghorn or Lerici, you will not be many hours at sea, and may thus see Genoa with little expence or trouble; otherwise you may go thither immediately from Turin in your way to Parma, or may leave it till you return from Venice; when passing through Milan, you may proceed to Genoa, and either return to Turin, or embark for Antibes. Your motions from Turin being thus uncertain, after that I have said a few words concerning the Piacenza road, I will recollect all I can of Milan and Genoa. To Piacenza you have sixteen posts. In your way you may see the Palace of Montcallier; where Victor Amadeus, after a busy reign, sometimes fortunate, sometimes otherwise, w^as made prisoner by hi§ son. Asti was a Roman colony. Hither the frightened H o n or i u s retreated from A l a r i c the Goth; and here the brave Stilicone, his Ge- neral, defeated that Barbarian. In latter times, it was capable of contending with Carlo I. King of Naples, one of the most powerful Sove- reigns then in Italy. We may say of Asti as of many other places— Alas, how are the mighty fallen ! Alexandria, so called, not from Alexander of 7 Q of Macedon, but Alexander of Rome,* and out of derision nick-named Delia Paglia by the Ghibellines, rendered the Guelphs great service. The Emperor Frederic Barbarossa laid siege to it for many months in vain; it with- stood his whole force, and taught him an im- portant truth, that an enemy is never to be despised. Should you pass at the time of the fair, you will find a tolerable opera. t The town is then full of people; and French, Swiss, and German commodities are exchanged for those of Italy and the Levant. At a time like this you must expect imposition. I paid two sequins a day for one room. The man told me with some humour, that at any other time I should be welcome to his whole house for one third of the money. Tortona was a Roman colony, and even in modern times much more considerable than it is at present. Voghera is the last town belonging to the King of Sardinia; from thence you may either go to Milan or Piacenza. The direct road * Built in the twelfth century, and called after Pop* Alexander III. t The fairs are in April and October. froiii 74 from Turin to Milan by Novara is ten posts and a half. The pleasant and fertile Vale of Piedmont forms an agreeable contrast with the cold and barren Alps. Mulberry trees, the principal support of its commerce, you will see with satis- faction, whatever be your opinion with regard to the cultivation of rice; a prolific and wholesome food, but the manner of cultivating it is exceed- ingly pernicious, the stagnated water it requires rendering the air almost pestilential. The country on this side the Alps was the Cisalpine Gaul, of which the Rubicon was the boundary. The government of it was Cesar's portion. The consequence of his having passed that boundary, I shall have occasion to treat of hereafter. This country was afterwards called Lombardy, from the Longi-Bardi. When the Goths were expelled Italy by Justinian's Generals, the Longi-Bardi, so called from the long beards they wore, natives of Hungary, en- tered, occupied, and ravaged Italy from one end to the other. Great events proceed sometimes from little causes. It is said, that the Eunuch Narces introduced this people to revenge him- self of the Empress Sophia, for a satirical re- flection made on his person. They were a hardy, warlike race; but uncivilised and cruel. Under their government, arts, sciences, and let- ters 75 ters were in a manner annihilated; and in bad taste, they even out-did their predecessors. War was their only occupation : they burnt the churches, unpeopled the cities, and laid waste the country. The death of Alboin was not less extraordi- nary than his introduction. It was an usual custom among the Barbarian chiefs to drink out of the skull of an enemy slain in battle. The victorious Alboin, at a public festival at Ve- rona, drinking out of the skull of King Cuni- MONDE, whom he had slain with his own hand, ■invited his wife, Cunimonde's daughter, to do the same — insultingly adding, that she would then drink in company with her father. The insult was of a nature not to be forgiven, and the cruel tyrant highly merited the revenge that followed. The manner in which it was effected is extraordinary. The insulted Rosamonda persuaded Elmogino, a favourite of the King, ^whom she flattered with the prospect of the throne, and bribed, as it is thought, with the charms of her person, to enter into her design on the life of his Sovereign. Unwilling, or per- haps afraid, to take the fatal business on himself, he recommended Perideo, an officer of great strength and courage, as the most proper person to rid her of her husband. Rosamonda ap- proved of the proposal; but, finding that by words 76 words she could not persuade him to commit the murder, had recourse to another expedient. She was not ignorant that Perideo intrigued with one of her attendants, with whom she con- certed matters so well, that, unsuspected by any one, she supplied her place. The usual ap- pointment was given; and the punctual lover, who thought himself in the arms of his mistress, was astonished when he heard the voice of the Queen, who gravely told him, that, after what had passed between them, he had only to resolve either to kill the King, or die himself. Peri- deo was not long in determining, and Alboin, who slept after dinner, as is usual in hot coun- tries, was soon after murdered. The tragedy did not end here. The lady, thus liberated from her husband, married the man by whose counsel it had been effected; but shortly after, falling in love with another, Elmogino was to be disposed of also. The second expedient was less successful than the first; — she gave him a^ bowl of poisoned wine as he came out of the bath, which he discovering while drinking, forced her to swallow down the remainder, and in a few minutes both of them expired. Charlemagne, about two hundred years after, conquered the Milanese with the rest of-, Italy. This country was afterwards governed a considerable time by its own Dukes. Fran- cois 77 cois I., till the unfortunate battle of Pavia, was some time master of it. After his defeat, Charles V. gave it to his son Phillip II. of Spain, and in the beginning of the present cen^ tury it returned to the empire. LET- rf 8 LETTER VIII. THE town of Milan is pleasantly situated in the luxuriant vale of Lombardy ; is nearly circular, six miles in circumference, and con- tains about one hundred and twenty thousand inhabitants. This was the capital of Cisalpine Gaul, and when Rome was on the decline, fre- quently became the residence of the Emperors. In the time of the Goths it was often attacked, taken, and plundered; in 1162 was entirely destroyed by Frederic Barbarossa. The present inhabitants, however, may rejoice that their defenceless state renders resistance impos- sible. Those who cannot conquer, had better not contend. — These may sleep in peace, though an enemy be at their gates, for they have neither the massacre nor famine of another siege to ap- prehend. Under the unfortunate circumstances above mentioned it would be needless to enquire after anti- 79 antiquities. The Duomo is the principal build- ing, and from thence you have the best view of the town. This immense Gothic fabric is in size little inferior to Saint Peter's. Upwards of three hundred years have slipped away since it was begun, and it is not yet finished ! yet the fund allotted to that purpose is sufficient were it properly applied. The taste of the building cannot be commended : — ornaments are in pro- fusion, — they are continually adding more, and at this rate the more money they lay out, the worse it will appear. It is said there will not be less than four thousand statues. This church is in possession of a famous relic, il santo chiodo^ a nail, that the Milanese persuade themselves fixed our Saviour to the Cross. They shew you the body of Saint Charles Borromeo. — I never approached a living Prince with half the respect I felt for the dead carcase of that pious Saint, so amiable in all men, and particularly in a Priest, is purity of manners and humility.* The treasure is immense, — they tell you inferior only to that of Loretto. You will be expected to admire the statue of Saint Bartholomew; the inscription would be more applicable to the * The motto chosen by that family, and to be seen on all their buildings, is Humilitas, sculptor 80 sculptor of Marsyas than the sculptor of Venus.* In Santa Maria delle Grazie is The Holy Supper by Leonardo da Vinci. It is true enough, as Cochin remarks, that one of the Apostles has six fingers on his left hand, — an in- attention by no means to be credited, — with greater probability may you suppose the original design altered, and that time has since discovered a finger the painter never intended should ap- pear. Saint Ambrogio is thought by some to be the church which the famous Saint of that name would not permit the Emperor Theodosius to enter, after the horrid massacre of seven thou- sand Thessalonians, men, women, and children, in cold blood. In this act the good Emperor was not less treacherous than cruel, for they were invited to a race in the Circus, and there surrounded and killed. It has been said, that man at times differs more from himself, than from any other of his kind. This surely was a proof of it. Saint Ambrogio was much to be commended; but what would an Emperor in times like these say to a Bishop who, with no Non me Praxiteles sed Marcus pinxit Agrati. ' . - Other 81 Other armour than his sanctity, should dare to oppose his entrance into a church ? The Ambrogian Library stands open to re- ceive you, rich in manuscripts, books, medals, statues, and pictures. The manuscript of Jo- seph on Papyrus, La Lande tells us, is one thousand one hundred years old. The manu- scripts of Leonardo da Vinci are interesting to those who are acquainted with the merit of that extraordinary man; one of the most learned and most accomplished of the age in which he lived. He possessed many talents in an emi- nent degree. He was as remarkable for his strength as for his beauty; and without doubt the Milanese ladies frequendy exclaimed, like the ladies of Babylon, " Quel bonheur qu'un si beau Gar^on ait tant de force," * His death was not less extraordinary ; for he died in the arms of that amiable " Monarch Francois I., whose private virtues as a man, and personal accomplishments as a gentleman, covered the failings of the Sovereign; and whose protection of the arts has jusdy endeared him to posterity. |n Petrarch's Virgil you have a description of his mistress. You know the personality of Laura has been disputed. I apprehend Pe- * See Vqlxaire's Princesse de Batfylone. "^'OL, I. ^ TRARCH'S 82 TRARCH*s own .words, written with his own hand, can best settle the controversy. They shew you a comedy, written in the fourteenth century, entitled, Paulus ad Juvenum corri-. gendos Mores', it was not till after Dante's time that comedies were written in Italian. The skeleton of the Milanese beauty was left as a legacy to her sex, to shew them, " though they paint an inch thick, to what they must come at last." The great Hospital, Lazaretto, and Prisons, all deserve a stranger's notice. The Milanese government suffers the great disadvantage of being subject to the will of a despot residing in another country. I doubt much if the excellence of any governme t can compensate for the want of the presence of the Sovereign. Seven millions of livres travel an- nually to Vienna, and are never seen again : — money thus expatriated, like a river turned out of its natural course, enriches another soil, while its own languishes through the want of it. At my first acquaintance with Milan, the Duke of Modena, with the tide of Governor, had all the outward trappings of sovereignty; but the power was vested in the Minister Plenipoten- tiary, the Count de Fermian: I mention that time the more readily, that I may pay a just tri- bute 83 biite to the memory of a minister who was one of the most amiable men I ever knew. The executive power is in the hands of a Senate; but nothing material is concluded till approved of at Vienna: — a system more mis- chievous is not to be conceived; affairs of ne- cessity cannot wait; affairs of importance fre- quently change their aspect before the answer arrives. If your bailiff is neither to cut nor carry your hay without your order, it is easy to conceive what pretty stuff will be made of it in your absence. If a physician prescribes at ^ distance, he knows full well that his prescrip- , tiori, however good, may be unnecessary when it arrives ; he also is aware, that a change of cir- cumstances may render it hurtful. — Princes^ •who pretend to more knowledge than human nature is capable of, should read Condillac: he roundly tells them that they are not infallible. Confidence in his servants is necessary in a Sovereign ; his best talent, that of employing the most deserving. Of the laws of Milan, I shall only mention that they never punish the intention, but wait till the act be committed. A man ran after his father with an intention to murder him, but was prevented : they could not punish him because bis father was still alive. Corn is not exported G 2 but 84 but under proper restrictions. The price of meat is fixed ; and monopoly as much as possi- ble prevented. Silk and corn are the principal objects of their commerce; and water carriage is become one of its greatest advantages, though the town was built without any river near it. Trade is seldom at a stand where individuals are rich. The shops in general seem well supplied. The embroidery of Milan is famous, and the equipages are not ill made. As for the beaux arts, I believe we had better say nothing about them. Literature is neither destitute of friends nor admirers. The Marquis Beccaria, author of that humane book Dei Delitti e delle P&nCy first cause of the revisal of the penal laws in Europe, and to whom the offending multitude are obliged for a mitigation of their punishments, is a Mi- lanese. A weekly paper was published by a set of gentlemen in imitation of the Spectator, called 11 Caffe : it has since been dropped. The com- mon people of Milan are as ignorant as else- where. Some Beaux-esprits used to meet every evening to discourse on various subjects of lite- rature, and, to prevent interruption from illite- rate intruders, locked their door. Information of their proceedings was soon given to Count Fermian, who sent for one of them, and ad- vised 85 vised him as a friend to act with caution, for it was generally believed that they met to raise the Devil. Public diversions are not wanting, except in the autumn. It is said, that Milton took the first idea of his Paradise Lost from a play be saw acted here, called Adam, or Original Sin. The carnival is famous, and it is the peculiar privilege of the town of Milan to enjoy it four days longer than any other town in a catholic country. Gay people, after the Tuesday's Ball at Turin and Venice, throw themselves into their carriages, and travel hither as fast as they can, where they find feasting instead of fasting, and an Ash-Wednesday without sackcloth or ashes: for this indulgence the Milanese may thank their good friend Saint Ambrogio, whose doctrine they follow. They tell you the Sun- days, notwithstanding the Careme, were days of festivity at Milan, instead of which they have now a longer carnival ; but, to make matters even with the church of Rome, they agree to fast four days in the spring, which those who pre- fer Gras to Maigre escape by going out of the diocese. One of the most pleasing coup d' ceils I ever remember was the ball at court, the last day of the carnival. Figure to yourself a large gallery, filled with well-dressed people of fashion, and a spacious box adjoining, from which you saw 86 saw the masks in the theatre — the elegancies of one scene, forming a striking contrast with the buffooneries of the other. The new theatre is no longer part of the palace. I wonder Princes will forego so great a privilege as that of enjoy- ing these amusements in their own palace with^ out inconvenience. The new theatre is said to be a good one : the boxes are large ; and it is not unusual to play at cards and sup in them. I can never reconcile myself to card-playing at an opera — d quoi bon ? it can only be of advantage to a deaf man, who probably v/ould win all the money. Milan is the only town in Italy where you are invited often to dine, — and here, when once known, you need never dine at home. The Milanese keep excellent tables. L' Abbe , a fat priest, who had completely gorged himself at Count Fermian's, accompanied his Excel* lency to the Corso afterwards. The servants had no little difficulty to get him in at the coach door; but when he wanted to get out again, that was utterly impossible ; the servants pulled ; the Abbe strove— but all in vain; the beat of the day and jumbling of the carriage had relaxed his muscles, and increased his bulk to such a degree, that they were obliged to leave him where he was till he had digested his dinner. In the Milanese you will find more German hospi- 87 hospitality than Italian frugality. In their charac- ter you will still finda mixture of Spanish,French, and German manners, and will with difficulty believe yourself in Italy. The climate also may not exactly agree with the ideas you have formed of this warm country; you must not fancy, my good Sir, that when you have once passed the Alps, you are to feel no more cold ; Turin and Milan are both of them colder than London. Gallantry is carried on at Milan more myste- riously than in other towns in Italy ; nor are Cavalieri serventi's so generally established : not that I think the Devil is any loser. A coquette, the other day, wrote to two gendemen, who, un- luckily for her, were intimate friends, and com- pared notes : she had given a rendezvous to each, and to each said she desired nothing so much as to get rid of his rival, who was a secca- tore* One of them observed, that the two letters were word for word the same. " True!" replied the other; " but with this difference, if you please: in this," alluding to the letter he held in his hand, " in this, my good friend, it is you who are the seccatore, instead of me." See Castellazzo, and the Statue of Pompey; Mozza, where the Court resides; and the Villa A bore, or troublesome fellow. Simo- 88 Simonetti, for the sake of the Ecno : tliis echo will repeat thirty-five times, according to La Lande; and forty, according to Mr. Mar- tin; but it i3 the last syllable only: and what is that to another Echo that we have heard of, which, when you ask, " How do you do?**-^ replies, ** Very well, I thankyou^'* ^ET. 89 ' 'ra r- LETTER IX. THE Genoese history is a confusion of events little interesting to a traveller. When Rome was in its infancy, Genoa was the capital of Liguria, resisted while it was able^ and submitted unwillingly to the Roman yoke. The friendship of Rome became afterwards more pernicious to the Genoese than her en- mity: they embraced her fortunes, and their town was destroyed by the Carthaginians, At the decline of the Romans they fell a prey to the Goths ; after them, to the Lombards ; till Charlemagne put a finish to their empire, and made himself master of Genoa, with the rest of Italy. It was not till the end of the eleventh century that the Genoese formed their Republic, which since that time has submitted to more masters, and undergone more changes, than I intend to relate. At the time of the Crusades, the Genoese galleys, by favoring the designs of religious 90 religious fanatics, established iheir commerce in the Levant. At Constantinople they had already acquired Pera, as a reward for their services against the Venetians. Corsica had long been in their possession; and Sardinia was a bone of contention between them and the Pisans, till the famous engagement off Melorie gave them a complete victory over their rivals, and at once put an end to the pretensions of Pisa. The violent contentions between the GuELPHS and Gibbelins,* that kindled a flame of civil war all over Italy, had more than once disturbed the peace of Genoa, and obliged them to accept the dangerous assistance of powerful neighbours, and barter liberty for protection. Milan, Spain, and France became each at dif- ferent times master of a country it was easy to gain, but difficult to keep.t It was not till Andrea Doria, in the year 1528, forsook the * The dissentions betwixt Gregory IX. and Frede- ric II., gave rise to the two factions of Guelphs and GiBBELi^'s: the former, embraced the interest of the Pope ; the latter, that of the Emperor. IFe have had our Houses of York and Lancaster — not less fatal. t When the Genoese made an oftcr of their Republic to Louis- XL, he replied — " Vous vovs donncz a moi, ct jc toils donnc a ttjvs hs Diabks," interest 91 interest of Francois I. to embrace that of his enemy Charles V., and became a patriot through pique, that Uberty was restored to the Republic, and a government established which has since suffered little variation. It was once in danger from a young conspirator of astonish- ing enterprise, the Count de Fiesque,* who wanted the good fortune only to which his bra- very entided him, to have become master of the lives and fortunes of his fellow-citizens : every thing succeeded to his wishes ; he had, possession of the town ; the enemy fled before him ; when accidentally, it was in the night, treading on an unsteady plank to get on board a vessel in the harbour to give some orders, his foot slipped, he fell, and was drowned, — and with him sunk every hope of his party. In the year 1746, though you cannot remem-p ber it, many can, Genoa submitted to the House of Austria. The Marquis Botta, a rough German, took possession of the town, and treat- ed the inhabitants with severity. It is impru- dent to provoke people beyond bearing : — it is dangerous to drive them to despair. — A trifling circumstance, the ill usage of a citizen by a soldier at the removal of a piece of ordnance, * This conspiiacy happened the first of January, 1 547- occa-* 92 occasioned a revolt which more important con- siderations had not been able to effect; — the people rose upon the military, and, with no better weapons than sticks and stones, drove the General and a victorious army out of the town, to which they never afterwards dared return. Since that period, the most remarkable events are the struggles of the Corsicans for liberty under our friend Paoli, and the surrender of that island, which the Genoese could no longer keep, to their aUies the French. The climate of Genoa is mild: green peas, flowers, <&:c. are not unusual in winter. The town is delightfully situated, is about six miles in circumference, and contains near one hundred thousand inhabitants. The Port is semicircular, and the buildings rise one above another in the form of an amphitheatre. An admirer of fine prospects should take a sea view of the town, and, till he has seen Naples, will conclude no situation equal to that of Genoa. Internal grandeur no otherwife corresponds than in the marble palaces of the nobles, which are in a superior style of magnificence, and has probably given her the name o^ superb a^ to which, in other respects, she is but little entitled. Though an- cient, Genoa has none of those remains of anti- quity that render oth.^r cities famous ; yet a lover of pictures will find employment in every palace. ^3 palace, and in every church : A Lacquais de Place, and that useful book Gidda dei Forestieri, will shew and explain them. Of the public buildings, the palace of the Doge ; the Albergo, where the poor are received gratis ; the Grand Hospital, to which the sick of every nation are admitted ; and the Bank of St. Georgio, are most worthy your observation. It would be an affront for a soldier not to visit the Arsenal. See also the Galley-slaves ; satisfy your curi- osity; and let justice and good policy remain silent, while you commend the lenity with which such villains are treated. The government is aristocratical : the legisla- tive power is in the grand Conseil of all the nobles assembled, but the petit Conseil of two hundred do all the business. In each of these assemblies, in order to carry a question, two thirds of the votes must be in its favor. The executive power is in the Doge, and -a Senate consisting of twelve members chosen annually out of the grand Conseil. These are his privy council, and as- sist him in all his functions. The power of the Doge is little more than that of a president, and his reign is for two years only, — during which time he has constantly two senators at his elbow as spies on his conduct ; for eight days afrer he is liable to any charge of mal-administration that may be brought against him; nor can his imme- diate 94 diate successor be of the same family. Trouble- some as this office is, the confinement of it ren- ders it still more exceptionable. When the Doge was sent to petition Lewis XIV., he was asked what he thought most curious in France, be replied, " De m'y voir.'' II Collegio dei Procuratori have the direction of the public revenue. Trials both civil and criminal are in the hands of strangers. Though this custom is pretty general throughout Italy, I cannot but think it an invidious system, founded On false principles, and liable to many objections. Censors are appointed to watch over the execu- tion of the laws, and examine into the conduct of the officers. Inquisitors of state have charge of the police. A holy inquisition' watch over re- ligious concerns, but give as little trouble at Genoa as in other towns of Italy. There were formerly two distinct ranks of nobility j no other distinction now remains than that which pride makes. The state is poor, — the individuals rich. The revenue is about three hundred thousand pounds sterling. The Bank of Saint Georgio, which, as a man of business, deserves your contemplation, is the support of the Republic. The land forces of Genoa make no figure in the balance of power of Europe. The naval force of those enter- prising mariners was once formidable, till after a severe 95 severe contest of several years they submitted to the Venetians. It is now reduced to a few miserable galleys, not equal to the protection of their trade against the Barbary corsairs. The soil is so barren that the inhabitants would be starved were it not for the constant supply they receive from other states. To prevent a scar- city of the necessaries of life, bread, wine, and oil, are sold by government, who constantly keep a year's supply beforehand. The profit arising from this manoeuvre makes no incon- siderable part of the public revenue. The Genoese, as well as their neighbours of Pisa, once carried on aqa extensive commerce with the Greeks, and also supplied Constantinople with foreign commodities till that capital was finally subdued by the Turks. Though they have lost in great part the tirade of the Levant, they fur- nish all Italy witli the merchandise of other countries.' — Velvets, silks, artificial flowers, gloves, preserved fruits, oranges, and lemons, are the principal articles of their own produce. Of the society I hare litde to say ; I arrived at Genoa in the autumn, when the greatest part of the nobility were at their villas, and the town was too dull to be agreeable. I saw what was most curious, and went away. The principal families seem more at their ease 'than in other towns of Italy. Like other merchants, they live con- 96 Considerably within their incomes, and are attached to the French, who are in possession of their mo- ney, the strongest of all ties to a mercantile people. Fine cloaths, and brilliant equipages, make no part of the expence of a Genoese. The noblesse are always in black. The men wear no swords, nor the women diamonds. Chairs, as the streets are narrow, are more generally used than coaches. If a lady walk in the street her chair follows ; a servant holds up her train, and she has always one, and sometimes two Cicisbeos to attend her. I have heard of more separations and divorces at Genoa than in any other town in Italy,— divorces for any thing you please, except infidelity. — To make that a legal cause of divorce in this coun- try, would be ipso facto to annihilate the mar- riage state. The common people have not the fairest re- putation, but my short stay among them did not permit me to judge how far they deserve it. It has been said of Genoa, Uomini senza fede^ donne senza ve7-gogna, mare senza pesce^-^loo severe to be strictly true. I shall never forget my journey to Genoa.-— I had sent a Felucca from Leghorn with part of my baggage to wait for me at Lerici. Arriving there, as I hate the seaj I thought it pleasanter to ride post over the Appennines, — a journey, I can- not advise any one to undertake, for the roads, horsesy 97 horses, and accommodations, are all of them in- tolerable. As I approached Genoa, heartily tired of my post-horse, the calm sea tempted rhe to pursue the rest of my journey, about twenty- five miles, in an open boat. I think it was Cato who said he never repented but of three things : — that he had intrusted a secret to a wo- man ; — that he had spent a whole day in idle- ness ;— and had gone by water when he might have gone by land. As to the latter, Cato him- self never repented it more heartily than I did in the Gulph of Genoa, where, more than once, I was near going to the bottom. My running footman, who was a Catholic, recommended him- self to every Saint in the Calendar, not fo,rget- tinghis good friend Saint Antonio di Padua: as for me, I expected death in sullen silence; I had made up my mind to the worst that could happen, — and shall never forget the joy I felt when 1 entered the harbour— when I cried out, in a kind of extacy-^" Inveni porium ludite nunc aliis" — for I determined from that instant never to trust myself at sea again in an open boat with Italian sailors. The office of a Cicisbeo shall be the subject of my next Letter. VOL, I» - M LET- 98 LETTER X. BARETTI tells us, that to whisper was for- merly called Cicisbeare : and as the gentle- man I am to describe, usually speaks by whis- pers, he is called Cicisbeo. In other parts of Italy, he is called Cavaliere Sefvente, a name better suited to the purpose, and which explains itself. He was originally of the husband's choosing, generally one of the family, and sel- dom either young or handsome. His office was to attend the lady to the theatre, and to be her constant companion in the absence of her hus- band. Jealousy, without doubt, first instituted this Male-Duenna — who, watchful as Argus, and spiteful as the Dragon of the Hesperides, observed the lady's looks, controuled her ac- tions, and returned her at night as pure as he Rad received her in the morning — and, probably so tired of his company, that her husband be- came a more welcome companion. — This ani- mal. 99 rtial, though scarce at present, is still to be seen with a bride the first year of her marriage : for as a husband of rank and fashion cannot appear with credit in public with his own wife ; nor the lady with propriety go out alone; an inoffensive being, a kind of non-entity, is procured by the family to accommodate both : — but, as matri- mony in this country is, generally speaking, a matter of convenience, the husband, in a short time, returns to his former mistress, and Cara Sposa chooses a Cavaliere Servente better suited to her inclinations. This is the person with whom you will have most to do, and this is the Cavaliere Servente, whose office I shall now describe. The service of this gentleman begins early in the morning, and ends late at night. He has the entree at all hours — and the bed-chamber of the lady is as familiar to him as to her husband. He assists at her toilette ; decides about her dress J jokes with her maid; and plays with her lap-dog. If she goes out, it is his business to accompany her : if she stays at home, he never quits her side; for instinct tells him, whether he has read or not, that with certain persons, and on certain occasions, " Les absens ont toujour s tort." * ■• Vide La Pucelle — Chant IV. H 2 When roo When dinner-time approaches, the Cavaliere Servente takes his leave. A frugal repast eagerly swallowed — a toilette easily made — occupy a few hours only, and the Cavaliere Servente returns to his lady with a hasty step lest another supply his place. A tite, d tite at this hour is usually this gendeman's exclusive privilege. Ninon says, — " Qu* une Liaison du cxur est la Piece du Monde ou les actes sont les plus courts^ et les entre-actes les plus longs'*'— znd. no people upon earth experience the truth of the remark more than the couple I am now describing. Tiie Ventitre at length ar- rives * — the coach is ordered, and they drive up and down the same street, looking different ways ; and, for want of conversation, having said all they had to say, bow to every carriage as it passes, till the hour of the theatre. If the lady goes to an assembly, the Cavaliere Servente takes charge of her cloak, her fan, her gloves, sorts her cards, and sits at her elbow. At Genoa, he follows her chair; in other towns, he accompanies her in her coach : while Jerry Sneak, the husband, walks on foot, let the wea- ther be what it may, his only equipage a pair of * The Ventitre, an hour before sun-set, is the time of the Corse. thick 101 thick shoes, and an umbrella. Wherever the lady is invited, this gentleman is expected. At public dinners he receives a formal invitation ; and the husbanci, unless he be the Cavaliere Servente of another lady, is purposely omitted. The twenty-four hours are thus pretty equally divided between them both; but, as the hus- band enjoys the lady's company in the dark, when the smooth skin and convenient features of a Negro might better suit his portion than the most beautiful profile Grec, the charms of which are for the contemplation of his rival, it is the height of folly to marry a woman for her beauty only. I don't know that beauty in this country is ever desirable in a wife, as it may occasion uneasiness, after it has ceased to give you pleasure. An old gendeman asked me, the other day, seriously, if he should marry? — Quin, on a similar occasion, said — ** No:" and being press- ed for his reason, replied — ^* If you marry. an old womariy she will stink you out of bed ; if a young one^ she will kick you out." — In Italy, where a wife does not depend on her husband only for her amusements, old gentlemen find better treatment : 1 therefore told my friend, that he should marry by all means, since proba- bly by so doing he would make more than one person happy. Voltaire recommends matri- * mony 102 mony pleasantly enough : he says-;-** Si voire femme est sage et raisonable vous serez un hommc heureuxy si elle est ^nechantCy oil coquette vous deviendrez philosophc — vous lu pouvez jamais qu'y gagne?'.'* Besides, those who marry to have an heir to their estate, the principal object of matrimony in this country, whatever be their age, need never despair. Jealousy, I mean in a husband, is become as ridiculous as a worn- out fashion. The good man submits patiently to his fate, and makes the following prayer: — " Signorc vi prego che la mia moglie mi sia fedeky e se mai non la fosse vi prego che io non lo sappia; e se mai lo saptssiy che non me n'importi un corno," * You will conclude from this account, that female virtue is at a low ebb in Italy : — I see nothing to contradict the idea. Some chaste women, without doubt, there are; but when from a small number are taken those who have no desires; those who have no temptation; and those who, having both, have no opportunity; the quantum of real virtue remaining will be reduced almost to nothing: — such are the per- * I pra^-GoD that my wife may be faithful! if not, that I may not know it. — If I am to know it, that I may not care about it. nicious 103 nicious effects of bad education, and bad exam- ple, in a warm climate ! That a rational being should be found idle enough, both in body and mind, thus to fritter away his whole time in the company of one woman : that a wife should wilfully make herself the talk of a whole town, and submit to the tyranny of a man she is not in duty bound to obey, and oftentimes is afraid to leave, though she has ceased to love :* that a husband should suffer another man to have more influence in his house than he has himself; to enter it fami- liarly and indecently at all hours, and be privy to the most secret transactions of his family : that Government should look with an indifferent eye on a system of prostitution that corrupts the manners, and at once destroys domestic happi- ness, filial duty, and parental affection; will probably be objects of astonishment to you, as they have been to me. * The change of a Cavaliere Servente is as much a topic of discourse in any to^vn in Italy, as the change of* Prime Minister is in England. LET- 104 LETTER XI. ipiACENZA, probably so called from its -■" pleasant situation, was a Roman colony in the early days of the Republic of Rome. In this neighbourhood Hannibal fought his second battle after his descent into Italy, and completely routed the whole Roman army under Semproniusj as he had done the cavalry and light infantry, a few days before, on the banks of the Tesin, under Publius Scipio. It was hither the brave ten thousand made good their retreat, and in such a style, that those who had conquered them dared not oppose their passage. One circumstance renders the retreat of the ten thousand Romans more extraordhiary than that of the ten thousand Greeks — these were beaten, those were conquerors. It was in this . battle Hannibal lost his eye by the intense cold, and every elephant, as we are informed, one only excepted. At 105 At the decline of the Roman empire, Pia* cenza, by lying in the direct road of every in- vader, was frequently attacked, and often plun- dered; yet it held out against Tot i la, till the inhabitants, it is said, for want of provisions, fed upon one another. In modern times, after many revolutions, after having submitted to many masters, it is annexed at last to the Duchy of Parma, The town is large, but ill peopled; and con- tains little deserving notice, except the two equestrian Statues of Alexander Farnese and his Son. The ancient Amphitheatre, which was burnt in the contest between Ox ho and V I T E L L I u s, was the largest then in I taly. You are now on the famous Emilian way, have only four posts to Parma ; but have many rivers to pass that are always troublesome, and sometimes dangerous. Parma was also a Roman colony, and suffered like its neighbour at the decline of the empire. In modern times, this territory has been often in dispute between the Emperor and the Pope, between Spain and Austria. The Farnese family were in possession of it till their extinc- tion ; and, by the Treaty of Aix la Chapelle, it has since been confirmed to Don Philip of Spain. The town is pleasantly situated on a plain, and lOG and divided by a river into two unequal parts. The circumference may be about four miles, and contains near forty thousand inhabitants. The streets are large, and some of the buildings ele- gant. In the churches are many famous pic- tures, by CoRREGio J and the Theatre, by ViGNOLE, is the largest in the world. — When I view the stupendous works of the Farnese and Medici families, I conclude they were men of a different stamp from the Princes of the present day. The power of the Duke is absolute, and without controul. I passed some time at this Court, during the minority of the present Sove- reign, with two amiable friends; the Marquis Felino, who was at that time Prime Minister, and the Abbe de Condillac; both French- men, and both an honour to their country. No young Prince could be kept more constantly employed: he rose early, and till ten was en- gaged in study; after that hour he amused him- self with drawing ; received his Court, heard mass, and dined in public. About one he re- tired, and took lessons of music;, he afterwards either walked, or went out in his carriage. In the evening, the Pere Jacquier, whose m.erit is well known, instructed him in mathematics and experimental philosophy. — I fancy these clever men overshot the markj — the present Duke 107 Duke is said to be a bigot, and educated by s^ Condi LLAC ! — and his son is a man of the world, out of the hands of a capuchin ! The revenue of this Prince was about three millions of French livres. His troops did not exceed fifteen hundred : he has not occasion for more ; and must depend rather on the protec- tion of his allies, than the strength of his citadel. The smallness of his territory is the cause of continual desertion : you frequently hear a gun fired ; it is a signal for the peasants to be on the watch, and they are paid a Louis-d'or for every deserter they bring in. On the Saturday of Paques, when all the guns were fired, I concluded the whole garrison had deserted at once. The government seems mild, and the people happy. I observed an excellent tribunal, called La Reale Giunta^ composed of a certain number of Counsellors, men of abilities and honour, who decide civil causes ^r<2^» ; and from whom there is no appeal, except to the Sovereign : but, as they seldom pass any sentence without his ap- probation, the appeal is nugatory. In the Academy are antique statues and busts and the famous Table found at Velleia, a town supposed to have been destroyed by the falling in of a mountain, towards the end of the fourth century. The late Infant took great delight in digging there; but the expence was so great, and 108 and the things found of so little value, that he was persuaded to desist. In the Library are drawings engraved by Madame He Pompadour ; and a curious Manu- script, with the arms of the noble Venetians on one side, and on the other a description of each family, what they originally were; if in trade, or not ; and what they dealt in: — -very curious and interesting, without doubt, to those it may con- cern. A Plan of an Attack, which takes to pieces, and shews the whole conduct of a siege, from first investing a town till it be taken, was a present of Louis XV. to the present Duke, and is a military treasure. You have heard of a famous collection of Pictures, &c. belonging to the Palace: when Don Carlos forsook Parma for Naples, he took them along with him. Not far from the Palazzo Giardino the French gained the battle of Parma, in 1734. The commerce of the town consists chiefly of silk. The principal part of the cheese which we call Parmesan, is made in the neighbourhood of Lodi. The necessaries of hfe, I am told, are in great plenty, and not dear; from whence I conclude, the country is well cultivated. The people, in general, have cheerful coun- tenances ; a certain .sign the Government is mild, and the taxes neither numerous nor op-, prcs- 109 pressive. The manners of the people are partly Italian, partly French. I found them well bred, and not unlearned. The Abbe Frugoni was the best Poet in Italy. Count REzzoNicohas written a Dissertation on Pliny: an intimate friend of his said, in a joke — " I begin to think you love Pliny better than me.*' — " Most cer- tainly!" replied the Count: " / love you as much as any man living; but I love Pliny more," You have heard of the famous Printer, ^o- DON I, rival of our Baskerville. It is possi- ble you may not have seen any of his Works, for he has hitherto been chiefly employed in printing books that nobody reads; — and, though ambition might make me wish to appear to the world as fine as Bodoni could make me, I fear I have nothing by me pure enough to pass the review of a Parma Inquisitor. It is curious, that the first printing in Italy should have ap- peared at Turin, and that Bodon.i should be a Piemontois. It was from hence, in the spring of the year 1766, that I sent my running-footman with a letter to Mantua ; he could not have set out before six o'clock in the morning, for till that time the gates were not open; the answer was dated Mantua, two o'clock at noon : I received it early the next morning before I was up, and he no he made many excuses for not returning • the same day. It is wonderful what these fellows are capable of doing; but it is cruel to put it unnecessarily to the trial. Remember, should you be in this neighbourhood, that the Octave of the Corpus Domini is one of the most bril- liant days at Parma. Modena, at the time of the Roman Republic, was a place of consequence. Here Decimus Brutus was besieged. Many curious strata- - gems were then used by the Consul Hirtius, who commanded the Roman army that came to his assistance, to convey intelligence into the town. Divers were first employed; and when that scheme was discovered and prevented, they used pigeons with letters fastened to their feet. Here Octavius first tried his fortune against Anthony : — here, in the first engagement, he ran away; and, in the second, is strongly sus- pected to have murdered the Consul Hirtius in the confusion of the battle ; and to have poi- soned the wounds of Pans a, the other Consul, after the batde was over. — He thus became sole General himself without a rival I Modena has since undergone various changes, and submitted to many masters, till, at the end of the thirteenth century, it freely gave itself to the House of Est. The Sovereignty is abso- lute. The territory small. A stranger, who had Ill bad offended the late Duke, was ordered to leave his dominions within twenty-four hours.— He thanked his Serene Highness for allowing him more time than was necessary, for he should be out of them in as many minutes. The town is handsome ; the streets wide and regular ; and the excellence of the accommoda- tion may tempt you to see the curiosities La Lande describes. You may look for pictures that are no longer to be found. The Night of CoRREGio, supposed to be his best perform- ance, is now at Dresden; thirty thousand se- quins, they tell you, were paid for it. You will think it an astonishing price for a picture ; but you are to recollect, that the buyer and seller were both of them Sovereigns. You will lament the injury Sovereigns thus do their country in robbing it of so great a treasure ! — If the Pope could sell all the antiquities of Rome, he would starve one half of the inhabitants. From hence are two roads to Florence, by Pistoia^ and by Bologna; you may take your choice. LET- 112 •••p*ni>M«r LETTER XII. BOLOGNA is an ancient city mentioned by many of the Roman writers, and has been at all times famous for her love of the arts, and her struggles for liberty. In the thirteenth cen- tury Bologna la Grassay so called from the fer- tility of the country that surrounds it, was at the head of a flourishing Republic, till betrayed by private factions it fell into the hands of the Pope, and suffered the various distractions of oppres- sion, revolt, and bloodshed. The Bentivoglio family, the most powerful, were at last entirely suppressed, and the Bolognese gave themselves under certain conditions and restrictions to the Pope for ever, preserving, if not the reality, at least the appearance of freedom. They have no citadel. Their estates cannot be confiscated. They are governed by a Legate, and have an Embassador at Rome. Taxes I am told are moderate; nor can they complain if forty thou- sand 113 sand crowns is all they pay to the Pope : — they are not contented; they still remember that they were once free ; but forget the turbulencies of the times of freedom. The town, which is situated at the foot of the Apennines, on the ancient Via Emilia, is of considerable size, but of glo»my aspect; owing, in great measure, to the porticoes with which it abounds — a blemish of so much use, both in summer and winter, that I condemn it with re- luctance. You, who delight in walking, will there find the same advantage we horsemen find in the o Manage — exercise in all weather. Remember, should you arrive in the night, to send your Courier on before, that you may not be detained at the gate. The two towers, Asinelli and Garrizandi, are the admiration of travellers who have not seen Pisa. The latter, which is one hundred and forty-four feet high, is said to be not less than eight feet two inches out of the perpendicular. Some tell you, it was the design of the builder; others think^ with greater probability, that the foundation has given way. From the top of the former is a beautiful view of Ferrara, Modena, Imola, and Cento. The Fountain of Neptune, by Giovanni di Bologna, is much admired. A short stay at Bologna will not satisfy a lover of pictures. VOL. I, I You i 114 You know it is the school of the Caracci, Dome NICHING, Guido, Guercino,Albani, &"c. : and every church and every palace is full of the best works of those celebrated masters. ^ It would be an endless labour to enumerate them. I shall only say, that the picture of Saint Peter and Saint Paul, in the Zampieri Pa- lace by Guido, is alone worth, to a lover of painting, a journey on purpose. My servant, while I was admiring the pictures, was only attentive to the frames, which he said were very fine, and, without doubt, had he had his choice, they would have had the preference. If you collect pictures, it is not improbable that you may meet with some good ones here; — the most noble families are frequently in want of money, and there are moments when they may easily be persuaded to prefer the current coin of the country to a piece of painted canvass. They sell the original ; but, to save appearances, place a copy in its stead : — let him, therefore, who is not a connoisseur, be cautious what he buys. The University was once more renowned than it is at present, particularly in physic ; and has produced many famous persons, both men and women : not forgetting Tagliacosci that Hu- DiBRAs mentions so ludicrously. The Institute will find you amusement for €very leisure moment. This treasure of arts and 115 and sciences, too extensive for the narrow limits of the present Letter, Count Marsigli began, and Pope Benedict XIV., better known by the name of Lambertini, continued. Estab- lishments like these are the best monuments that men of genius can leave behind them; and yet Bologna is less famous for its University and its Institute, than for its sausages and its lap-dogs. In the Library of St, Salvadore is a valuable Manuscript of the Book of Esther, in Perga- mena. The stone called Spongia di Luce, is a, kind of phosphorus peculiar to Bologna, and merits your attention. The principal authority is in the Legate: tha |*olice and the Revenue are under the controul of the Senate, out of which body a Gonfaloniere and eight Anziani are chosen every two months, to whom the executive power is committed. The administration of justice, both criminal and civil, is entrusted to strangers, who are sent from Rome J the former under the controul of the Legate, the latter under that of the Senate. The Madonna di St. Luca is about three miles ■from the town. Yoy should see this Chapel, if not for the sake of the Madonna, at least for the sake of the prospect. The picture of the Ma- donna, said to be painted by St. Luke, is brought annually into the town, under a portico built on purpose. The procession, and the I 2 mul- 116 multitude that attend it, must astonish every one who is not a Catholic. We strangers have an additional obligation to the Lady, for were it not for the lights which devotion offers to her image, in the dark streets of Italy, we frequently should break our bones. At the Certosa, and at the Capuccini, I am told, there are some good pictures. In an island not far distant, formed by the Rhenus, Octavius, Anthony, and Lepidus, met and divided between them the provinces of Rome : — there, with the Devil constantly at their elbow, they formed that bloody proscrip- tion which doomed three hundred Senators and two thousand Knights, ignorant and unsuspicious of their intentions, to immediate death — a pro- scription more infamous than that of Sylla !— That tyrant condemned only his enemies ; these villains sacrificed their relations and their friends ! -—Anthony, his uncle; Lepidus, his brother; and Octavius, Cicero — the very man he called Father, and whose counsel he promised to follow! — Luckily for him, Cicero was alto- gether as vain, as he was deceitful. Some time after, Augustus wrote against Pol lion, who, when advised to reply, said — " Non est facile in turn scribere qui potest proscrib ere" — Let us quit this horrid subject! and rejoice, that, if we do not possess what is called Roman Virtue, our history. 117 history, at least, will not be stained with the enormous vices that so frequently disgraced it. Of the society of Bologna I can say nothing. They have a good Theatre ; and I suppose lead nearly the same uniform life as other Italians. The common people are revengeful ; and, as the Government is weak, and dares not punish, assassinations are frequent. My host of the Albergo Reale gave me an unfavourable opi- nion of their honesty : his bill, which I still keep by me as a memento, suflBciently shews what an Italian inn-keeper is capable of. — Rogues like these, are worse than highwaymen— they have all the villainy of the character, with- out the courage. Few travellers make a long stay in either of the towns menlioned in this or my last Letter, where they find no peculiar in- ducement of climate or diversion to detain them. At Filicaie, where I slept, it did not a little surprise me to find the hostess an excellent singer. She had a good contralto voice, and not a bad manner. She told us she never had a master, but had acquired some knowledge of music by attending upon the singers, male and female, who are continually passing. You know Bologna is the principal residence of singers unemployed ; and it is there the Impre- sarios 118 sarros of other countries send to engage them. Much as I was surprised to hear her sing, I was still more, to hear her say, that she did not go upon the stage, because she thought waiting upon travellers a more honorable employment. At Pietra Mala you see an extraordinary phe- nomenon, supposed to be the remains of an ancient volcano. My next shall be from Flo- rence. LET- 119 LETTER XIII. YOU may have read of the twelve cities of Etruria, each a separate Republic, and may not know perhaps that Florence la belky Florence, the present capital of all Tuscany was not thought worthy of being admitted of the number, while Fie- sole, the abandoned Fiesole, which in the midst of herpresentmisery,looks down upon her rival with contempt, was one of the most considerable ; and, if you believe Villani, the most ancient city in Europe — Fie Sola, meaning, as he tells us, the only city at that time inhabited. Villani, though an excellent historian in what concerns his own tiniie, is not to be credited in all he says. Fiesole was without doubt a considerable city, and by nature strongly fortified. Florence was at that time a Roman colony, founded, it is thought, by the soldiers of Sylla, while his army was at Fiesole ; but it was not till the de- struction of that city by the Florentines in the year 120 year loio, that she rose to the degree of gran- deur she has supported ever since. Villani attributes the violent dissentions in the early days of the Republic to the union of two parties dia- metricdlly opposite. It was at Fiesole, Cata- LiNE assembled the army that was intended to destroy Rome. If you read the History of Florence, you will find that Republic torn to pieces by -various fac- tions. The most powerful families had their private quarrels, as well as their public differen- ces : and like the Montagues and Capulets of the tragedy, kept the town of Florence in continual alarm. The Buondelmonte and the Uberti, — the Bianchi and the Neri, — GuELPHs and Gibbel-ins, were distinctions of party, of rivalship, and contention. The nobles and the people were also in continual opposition. The former were tyrannical and cruel through fear ; the latter suspicious and revengeful be- cause they were oppressed. The nobles were not less at variance one with the other. The most powerful families, the Albizzi and the Riccr, the PiTTi, Pazzi, SoDERiNi, and Medici, were each of them ambitious of governing, and the system of government varied as either of these parties prevailed. Violence and oppres- sion, cruelty and bloodshed, too often disturbed the quiet of the city, and pref>ared the Floren- tines 121 tines for the change they were destined to un- dergo under the dominion of the Medici. On the other hand commerce flourished ; arts and letters were encouraged ; Greece lent her aid, and Florence became another Athens. As their manners softened they became less enterprising; they had few heroes, but the names of Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio, Macchiavello, Ga- lileo, CiMABUE, Giotto, and Michael Angelo, are an honor to the historic page. The town of Florence is situated in a pleasant vale. The surrounding hills are adorned with buildings, and the country on every side is cheerful and agreeable. The air is perfectly dry and wholesome ; no dew in summer at sun-set, and you may safely sleep at night with your windows open. Florence is less agreeable in winter ; it is very foggy and very cold. The town is about six miles in circumference. Though the walls are not fortified, there are two fortresses better calculated to intimidate the in- habitants than defend the city. From the Bel- vedere you have a beautiful and extensive view\ The gates are shut soon after sun-set ; but the Porta San Gallo, Porta San Niccolo, and Porta Romana, are opened to travellers till twelve o'clock in winter, and in summer at any hour of the night. The inhabitants of Florence do not exceed eighty thousand. The 122 The river Arno, which divides the town, is more famous for a bridge of uncommon form and peculiar elegance than for the clearness of its stream. It is Lord Lyttleton, I think, who calls this a silver stream ! — any thing but a silver stream, my goodLord ! It is as shallow as it is dirty. If the Emperor Barbaross a had seen no other, he had been safe enough : he had not been tempted, or he had not been drowned.* Amman ATI was architect of the bridge.t Here a battle was fought at the marriage of Cos i mo II. with the Archduchess of Austria, in imitation of the battle of the bridge at Pisa ; and the two factions of Santa Maria and Sant' Antonio were sent for on purpose ; but it was observed that they fought with less spirit, and dealt their blows more sparingly, than on their own ground. Here they had nothing but the name to animate them. There they were interested to defend the very ground on which they stood, and had all Pisa besides to behold the contest. * The Eniperor Bahbarossa, on his march to the Holy Land, tempted by tiie clearness of the stream, bathed in the river Cydnus, and was drowned, f This bridge was built by order of Cosmo I., after the flood in 1557. The arches were kept in their greatest ex- fension, the former bridge having been carried away. Near 123 Near this bridge, the husband of the famous jBiANCA Capello was way-laid and murdered. She shortly after became Grand Duchess of Tus- cany. With regard to the four statues, repre- senting the four seasons, I cannot agree with those who have commended them. The streets are in general narrow, but they are straight, and the pavement excellent. The ra- vages of war, more destructive to the arts than even time itself, have left few antique monu- ments for Florence to boast of j yet a town or- namented by Michael Angelo and his scho- lars, cannot be deficient in taste or elegance ; and, in the streets are statues that even Rome might envy. I fear were they thus exposed in the city of London, drunken men and idle boys •would soon knock their heads off. The Duomo begun in^the year 1298, is a magnificent marble building of Gothic architec- ture. The simplicity within is admirable, and were it not for the respect which I bear to the arts, I should wish it imitated. Religion in all ages has been their friend. The finest buildings amongst the ancients were their temples, and the finest statues and most beautiful pictures con- stantly adorned them : yet the gilded dome surely is less calculated for religious purposes than the cloistered cell, where devotion bends the pliant knee, undisturbed by worldly vanities. The 124 The porch of this duirch, wl-ien first I knew Tuscany, was a sanctuary for rogues and assas- sins ; they had erected hovels, victuals were regularly brought them, and they were never molested ; a practice at that time pretty general all over Italy. I have been almost afraid to en- ter a church owing to the many assass.ns I saw under the porch : figures that it was not pleasant to encounter even there. ■ This astonishing fabric was built in the time of the Republic by a tax on cloth, at the low rate of one soMo per braccio.* Four soldi a day, when the Duomo was built, were equal to twenty at present : one guinea then went as far as five will now. You may judge of the riches of Florence at that time by the size of this edi- fice. You may judge of its present poverty by observing that the facade has remained ever since unfinished ; not but it was lately proposed to the Grand Duke to finish it, and the means pointed out by a man of no inconsiderable merit : — '* By pulling doion and destroying the Church of San Giovanni. The cupola, by Brun elleschi, was a bold undertaking, whether you consider the form, the size, or the manner of erecting it. It was begun in 1400, and it took thirty-four * A soldo, about a halfpenny English* , • years 125 years to finish it. The paintings by George Vasari represent Heaven, Hell, and Purga- tory (for so they tell us), and are worth ob- serving were it only for the gigantic size of the figures, and whimsicalness of the composition : but you will think with me perhaps, that, not- withstanding the celebrity of the painter, they are of no advantage to the cupola. The choir under is abominable, and ought to be removed. The Sachristy is interesting and respectable. Here the wounded Lorenzo saved himself, when his brother Giuliano was assassinated in the conspiracy Dei Pazzi. The time fixed by those villains was durinsj the mass. Some art was used to bring them there together, and not a little cunning in examining, as they walked along, if they had armour on. The signal of attack was the exaltation of the host, and sacri- lege was thus united to treachery and murder. It is some satisfaction, however, to think that not one of them escaped punishment, or died a natural death: — even Bernardo Bandini, who fled to Constantinople, and sought the pro- tection of Bajazet, was delivered up by the Mussulman, and hanged at Florence. The vil- lain who aimed the dagger at Loren zo's breast, little knew the value of the life he attempted to destroy ; but succeeding ages have since had reason to rejoice that he failed in the attempt. In 126 In this church is the portrait of the divine Dante, who may be said to have created the language in which he wrote. He was free of speech, and easily provoked. When at the Court of II Signore della Scala, then Sove- reign of Verona, that Prince said to him one day — " I wonder, Signor Dante, that a man so learned as you are should be hated by all my Court, and this fool," pointing to his favourite buffoon, who stood by him, " should be by all beloved !" — Dante, highly piqued at the com- parison, replied — " Your Excellency would woU" der less if you considered that we like those best that most resemble ourselves.^* His portrait is a satire on those who banished him : but, to make amends for the persecution he underwent when living, a person was appointed to explain his works after he was dead. Thus Rousseau, banished his country, and cruelly persecuted when alive, has since had a statue erected to his memory. Ostracism at Athens was considered rather as a mark of superior virtue, than the effect of criminality; and when a vile and con- temptible person, owing to a private cabal, was added to the number, the law was repealed. To say man is an inconsistent animal, might be a truer definition than to say he is a laughing one. You also see the tomb of Giovanni Acuto, an 127 an Englishman. He was General in the Flo- rentine service; and is said to liave commanded four thousand Englishmen in support of the Ghibeline party at Florence. He died in the year 1394. I cannot say much for the figure of the General or his horse ; yet we are told that at the time it was done, it was consi- dered as a perfect piece of painting.* Here also are the tombs of Brunelleschi and Giotto. The epitaph of the latter does him great honor, and might have been true at the time it was made :— " lUe ego sum per qiiem Pittura extincta revixit, Plus licuit nulli Pingere, nee melius." He was the scholar of Cimebue, and soon excelled his master :— " Credette Cimabue nella Pittura Tenerlo Campo, cd ora ha Giotto il Grido." Dante. His children were remarkably ugly. Dante asked him, how it happened that he who made the children of others so handsome, should have made his own so ugly? — ** Mine^" replied the painter, " were made in the dark." By Paolo Ugello. In 128 In this churchj at Easter, the Archbishop re- news and consecrates the Holy Fire ; a curious religious ceremony, probably of Pagan origin, for the vestal virgins of ancient Rome did the same, and nearly at the same season. This done, a squib, in the form of a dove, sets fire to a parcel of crackers at the door of the church, to the no small diversion of the populace. The Contadini (countrymen), who assemble in great numbers, consider the prompt execution of this fire-work as a certain sign of a good harvest.— A fire-work at mid-day is an extraordinary sight at least, if not an agreeable one. The Campanile, by Giotto, is not finished. The original intention was to raise it consider- ably higher. It must now remain as it is. — Great works like these are no longer carried on in a country which has long lost its commerce, and is not famous for industry. I shall say nothing of the figures and ornaments already so amply described : I shall only observe, that it was the opinion of Charles the Fifth, that if it were kept covered, and shewn only once in several years, strangers would flock to see it. Here Bandini, the assassin of Giuliano dei Medici, when pursued by the friends of the Medici Family, saved himself, the door luckily standing open ; and, while they mounted the stair-case to seize him^ let himself down on the outside 129 outside by means of a bell-rope, and escaped like a harlequin. It is curious to observe, that he was hanged several years after with the same rope by which he had been saved so miracu- lously. Conspiracies, even when they succeed, which is but seldom, are generally fatal to their authors. Of the assassins of C^sar, not one died a natural death. — In the conspiracy of S^r- TORius, one only escaped punishment; and he led a miserable life in poverty and contempt. From the top of the Campanile you have a good view of the town of Florence. San Giovanni is, supposed to have been built on the ruins of an ancient temple dedicated to Mars. The doors are its principal ornament. Those by Lorenzo Ghiberti took forty years to -finish; and so highly were they esteemed by Michael Angelo, that he thought them not unworthy to be the gates of Paradise. Ra- phael has copied several of the figures tali qualL The two pillars of Egyptian porphyry were a present from Pisa. The Chains are spoils of the Porto Pisano, and taken by the Flo- rentines in 1362. MiGLioRE, a writer of the last century, on viewing these Chains, even then half eaten up by rust, reflects on the destruction time had already made. Thus publicly exposed^ they gave great offence to the Pisans, as long as they retained a sense of their former liberty: I vol*. I. K. make 130 make no doubt a modern Pisan looks on them either with an eye of ignorance or indifference. The Chapel contains a famous relic, the fore- finger of St. John — and here all the Florentines are christened. In the time of Villani, the christenings usually amounted to from five to six thousand annually : the males generally exceed- ing the females from three hundred to five. The number at present is considerably lessened. In i779> the births amounted to three thousand one hundred and ninety-nine only ; of which one thousand six hundred and sixty-one were males; females, one thousand five hundred and thirty- eight. Opposite this church is a curious monument of Supersdtion — a pillar erected to commemo- jrate a miracle which happened at the removal of the body of St. Zanobi from the church of San Lorenzo to the Duomo; an elm that formerly stood there, blossomed, as it is said, in the month of January, at the approach of the body of the Saint, We may say of this miracle as Horace did on an occasion somewhat similar— Cr^'^^^ Judceus Apelia, who, by the bye, I conclude was a very silly fellow.* * San Zanobi was Bishop of Florence in the fourth century. * 131 LETTER XIV. SAN LORENZO, in the early days of the Republic, was out of the city, the walls of which at that time were al Canto dclla Paglia. The statues of Guiliano Duke of Nemours, and Lorenzo Duke of tJrbino, by Michael Angelo, are much esteemed. The tomb of Alexander, first Duke of Florence, is inte- resting. Cos I MO prepared the way to despotism, and obtained the respectable title of Pater Patri^ dccreto publico : this Prince exercised it some years after, and was assassinated. The Medici Chapel, begun in 1604, ^^^ in- tended by the Grand Duke Ferdinand for the reception of the Holy Sepulchre, which he en- deavoured to steal from Jerusalem. The acqui- sition would have been highly advantageous to the town of Florence, but failing in the attempt, it was made the burying-place of his family. I think it is Addison who prophesied that the fa- K 2 iiiily 132 mily would be extinct before the chapel would be finished :-~he has proved but too true a Prophet. Foreign marbles were collected at an immense expencc, but the chapel is not finished ; and now most probably never will be. I shall not enumerate the relics contained in this church, for I much doubt if a tooth of Santa Marta, or even the milk of the Virgin Mary will do me any credit with a Heretic. The marble pedestal opposite represents Gi- ovANNi DEI Medici, father of Cosimo I., and one of the greatest warriors of his time. Bran TOME tells us that being wounded by a musquet ball in the leg, it was judged necessary to cut it off, and he was desired that some per- sons might hold him ; he said it was unnecessary ; and during the whole of this painful operation, held the candle himself. In the Church of Santa Croce is the monu- ment of Galileo. The fortune of this man was not less extraordinary than his abilities. He was put into the Inquisition at Rome at the age of seventy-five, where he was confined six months for saying that the earth moved round the sun, and was made to retract it in order to regain his liberty ; yet so perfectly was he con- vinced of the truth of his system, that he could not refrain in descending the staircase to exclaim, " Eppure si muove /" His body was denied Chris- 133 Christian burial, and his bones have since been removed into holy ground. He suffered for maintaining a system which, though apparently contrary to our senses, is at last universally al- lowed. His friends to excuse him, said, that he did not pretend that the earth really moved, but only as God was omnipotent, he might have ordained it so if he had thought proper. New- ton was born the year that Galileo died, and fortunately in a country less hostile to science. Here are the monuments of Michael An- GELo Buonarroti, and Leonardo da Vinci j here also the long neglected Macchiavello has at last received the tribute he had so lons^ merited ; — the inscription is more elegant than the monument : Tanto Nomini Nullum par Eulogium. Nicolaus Macchiavelli, Obit. an. A. P. v.cioioxxvii. This laconic inscription bears some resemblance to that of the great Frederic, '* Hie Cinis No- men ubiquCy" but, with this material difference, the King of Prussia was his own biographer; whereas Macchiavello has had this justice done him by his countrymen more than two hundred years after his decease. You are shewn an elegant little Chapel of the Nicolini family. The Cupola and four Sybils are painted by Volterrano. There are also other 154 other paintings worth your notice, particularly the Limbo by Bronzing. This church was in danger not many years since of being turned into a stable. If you consider the precious monuments it contains, you will be shocked at the barbarity. In the cloister is a famous Chapel of the Pazzi family, begun by Brunelleschi, and never finished. It was one of the first attempts at the revival of Grecian architecture in Italy, and not unworthy the fifteenth century. There is a remembrancer of a flood on the third of Decem- ber 1740, the height six feet five inches English, On the benches of the Piazza Santa Croce, the inhabitants of Florence pass great part of the night in summer ; and here formerly, during the carnival, the Nobles played at foot-ball, and kicked each other's shins to the no small diver- sion of the populace. Observe the front of the house of Senator Antelli, painted in 1619 by Giovanni DA San Giovanni, and other famous masters. It was finished in twenty days. When fresh it must have had an astonishing eHect, and still serves to shew the magnificence of those times, when the very outsides of their houses were adorned with paintings of such uncommon ex- cellence. The original design is in the gallery. Baldinucio says, that in his time (sixty years after 135 ^ after) it looked as fresh as if it were just painted. The wolf, the lion, and the Cupid sleeping, were at that time much admired. At the corner of the coffee-house you see the height of another inundation, or rather deluge in the year 1557. I made my coachman measure it with his whip, and conclude it cannot be less than eleven English feet, I leave you to judge of the confusion such an accident must have oc- casioned in a town that is all nearly on the same level. The street near it is still called Via del Diluvio. The water of the fountain in the Piazza is the best in Florence. In the Cloister of the Annunziata is the fa- mous Madonna del Sacco by Andrea del Sarto, one of his best performances, and the admiration of every succeeding painter. I think it is Johnson who says that the distance of. a calamity from the present time seems to preclude the mind from contact, or sympathy. The re- mark is certainly just, and I feel more concern at the declinincr state of the Madonna del Sacco than of the Colosseo at Rome. Belonging to this church is another Madonna not less worth seeing, but now seldom shewn. They tell you the painter, after he had painted the body, at a loss what expression to give the countenance, fell asleep ; and when he awoke, to his great astonishment found the whole pic- ture 136 ture finished ! This was a great miracle, without doubt ; nor is it often, I believe, that you find a painter silly enough to begin his picture at the wrongend. Giovanni Bologna d'i Dovsy, sculptor and architect, patronised by Cosimol,, Francesco, and Ferdinand, was buried here. The equestrian statue of Ferdinand, in the Piazza, is by Pietro Tacca, scholar of Gio- V AN N I Bo LOG N A, and is said to have been made of the brass cannon taken by the Tuscan gallies from the Turks. — One might ask, where are your gallies now ? In the Rucelai Chapel at Santa Maria Novella, is a famous Madonna by Cimabue. Vasari tells us, it was at that dme so much esteemed that it was carried thither in procession, accompanied by a band of music ; and in the cloister of the Spanish Chapel are the portraits of Petrarch and Laura, painted in 1330, by Simone Memmi of Siena. Laura is cloathed in green, which is said to have been her favourite colour, in which she first won the heart of the unfortunate Pe- trarch. SiMONE is celebrated by that aijthor, as are Cimabue and Giotto by Dante. This was the favourite church of Michael An gelo. He called it his sposa (spouse). I find it is with churches as with women. The old story^ de gustibus non est disputandum. This convent is famous for perfumes and essences. In 137 In the Church of Ogni Santi they shew you-^ the tomb of Amerigo Vespucci, and near it i^ the house he inhabited. This gentleman had the honour of giving his name to the New World, though Christopher Colombus was before- hand with him in the discovery. It is not a little extraordinary that Italy should not pos- sess one foot of land in all that immense terri- tory ; and that the heir of Amerigo Vespucci should be one of the poorest gentlemen in Florence; Vespucci has a pension of twelve crowns a month from Government. — A poor pittance for the descendant of a man who claimed the discovery of a new world. Santo Spirito, byBRUNELLESCHi,isa Convent of Augustine Friars. The Cupola is said to have been his coup d'essai before he attempted that of the Duomo. San Marco is pretty, but has an impertinent kind of finery about it that little becomes a place of Divine worship. The renowned Pico BELLA MiRANDOLAwasburiedhere. Heiscalled by Paul Giovio, the Phcenixof his time; yet I don't find that his ashes have produced any other such. Tliis convent also is famous for per- fumes and essences. In the Piazza was formerly the Seraglio of wild beasts: and here was once seen a Giraffa alive, sent as a present to Lorenzo dei Medici froni 138 from Sald ANO, King of Egypt, in 1487. This uncommon animal, whose existence has been doubted, was first shewn in the Circus at Rome, ■when C^SAR was Dictator. Horace calls it Panther Camel. A Manage has since been wisely established at St. Marco, instead of the Seraglio ; but, as the Grand Duke Leopold sets litde value on that useful science, and had as soon ride a mule as a manage horse, lessons of horsemanship arc no longer given : nor are any of those exercises now encouraged that were once thought a neces- sary part of the education of a gendeman. It was in the reign of the Grand Duke^FRAN-i| CEsco, that sixty young men of the first families in Italy, were sent to this Court as Pages for the benefit of their educadon. LLT" 139 LETTER XV. PALAZZO VECCHIO was tlie seat of Government in the time of the Republic. There the Albizzi, Ricci, Pazzi, Pitti, SoDERiNi, and MtDici, assembled. The Sa- loon is not unworthy of them. The ceiling is painted by Giorgio Vasari ; as are the paint- ings in Fresco, intended to commemorate the heroic actions of Cosimo dei Medici. Most of the statues are by Bandinelli. At a window of this palace, I believe that over the Dogana, the Bishop Salviati was hanged in his robes, when Giuliano dei Medici was - assassinated. He had a principal share in that conspiracy. He and his attendants had entered the Palazzo Vecchio, where the magistrates were assembled, on a pretence of business from the Pope, but with the intention, had the plot suc- ceeded. 140 ceededj to have massacred them all. The people, exasperated at his villainy, when thrown down from the window, tore him piecemeal. The Pope excommunicated the Florentines for hanging the Bishop; and they in return excom- municated the Pope for taking his part. — The reasons they give are excellent ; the book is scarce. The business of Government is still carried on in this palace. Here the Prime Minister Serrestori took possession of the Duchy of Tuscany for the Arch Duke Ferdinand, se- cond son of the Emperor Peter Leopold, before he arrived from Vienna. Illness pre- vented me from attending the ceremony; but, from the account I had of it, Sovereignty in this country is bestowed from father to son with as much ease as stock is transferred in England from one brc/ker to another. The Clock in the Tower shews the hour at night, by means of alight artfully placed behind the dial : an useful contrivance. In this Tower, Cosimo Pater Patrice was confined. His purse, which opened his prison- doors, enabled him soon after to overturn the liberties of his country. — Cicero obtained the honorable title given to Cos i mo, for having saved the liberties of his country; the Florentine mer- 141 hierchant, for the exertion of qualities that in the end destroyed them. The equestrian statue of Cosimo I. in the Piazza, by Giovanni Bologna, was put up by order of the Grand Duke Ferdinand, in 1594. That of Henri IV. on the Pont Neuf at Paris (a silly name, by the bye, as it cannot be al.vays applicable), was a copy by the same artist, and intended as a present to the French Monarch, who had married his niece. Neither Henri, Ferdinand, nor the Sculptor, lived to see it finished. Pietro Tacca, a scholar of Giovanni Bologna, put the lasthand to it by order of Cosimo II. j and, though of no ex- traordinary excellence, it was received with the utmost fanaticism by the French nation, in me- mory of the beloved Sovereign it was meant to represent, whose virtues were brilliant, and whose very frailties, amiable. — Thither they repair in their distresses to invoke the aid of a Prince, who when living, was the father of his people — a more natural application, let me tell you, than to St. Antonio di Padua. I ad- mire the fanaticism of the French ! I approached the statue with respect j I viewed it with con- cern; and cursed the hand of the assassin who thus cruelly deprived the world of its brightest ornament!— and had rather have been the man who passed the Edict of Nantes, than he who repealed 142 repealed it — though one died in his bed, and the other was assassinated.* The fountain is by Ammanati, The statue of Hercules is by Bandinelli; and was put up by order of Duke Alexander, as a com- panion to the David of Michael Angelo. One ofthe Lions on the steps at the Loggia is Grecian, the other Roman. The figure of Silence is admirable; her companions, probably are portraits : all are antique ; and were once in the Villa Medici at Rome. The other three capital figures are by Donatello, Benve- NUTO, andGiovANNi Bologna. The Judith, cutting off the head of Holophernes, was ori- ginally in the Medici (now Riccardi) Palace* and removed hither at the death of Alexan- der, as a symbol of liberty. — One would think they had hardly time to remove the statue, and add the inscription — Publicce Salutis Exemplum Civ. Pos. — so quickly and so readily did they again surrender their liberties to Cos i mo !— Donatello was the restorer of sculpture, and much esteemed : it was his good fortune, that the Grecian statues which at present adorn Italy * Henry IV. passed the Edict of Nantes for the Tole- ration of Protestants who were called Hugonots. Louis XIV. repealed it, then 143 then lay under ground. The Perseus was or- dered by Cos I MO I., and valued by Ba n di- ne lli at sixteen thousand scudi d'oro: though I do not find, in the Life of Benvenuto, written by himself, that he ever received more than three thousand; he was promised ten. The Rape of the Sabine was undertaken by Giovan n i Bologna, to prove that his talents were not confined to a single figure only. The three ages are there represented with great truth and ex- pression. Carlino Ginori, a gentleman of extraordinary size, is said to have served as a model for the soldier. The Piazza, which was of gravel, has been lately paved. It has now an air of grandeur and magnificence suited to the edifices that sur- round it. The money was well laid out: but, when I pass the Santa Croce Gate, I cannot equally approve the twenty-six thousand crowns which the community are laying out on a parcel of pig-styes. Ancient edifices are left unfinish- ed, while buildings of little or no importance, and without taste or elegance, spring up like mushrooms. This is the most lively and most populous part of the city. Here, on the day of Saint Ro- MOLO, you may see a curious cart-race, a bur- lesque on the ancient Circus. The Judge, a facchino (porter), is dressed like a Roman Em- peror, 144 |)eror, and has his train-bearer and other attend- ants ; intended probably, in the time of the Republic, as a satire on Sovereignty.* Here the idlers of Florence daily resort; and here punches and mountebanks frequently collect together the gaping multitude: but the Grand Duke, out of a mistaken policy, discourages merriment, and does not suflFer them to remain. —The Medici family ! why are they regretted ? Was property more secure, or personal safety more respected ? Were the laws more favor- able to the subject, or taxes less oppressive under their government ? — Most certainly not : but, in lieu of these things, the people had an appearance of liberty, and were amused. — Those cunning rulers knew that to keep the minds of men constantly amused, is the surest means to prevent them from criticising the conduct of those who govern. The very poorest and most miserable had neither leisure nor inclination to brood over their wants, or their misfortunes. Let us suppose, for an instant, their time divided between sleep, work, and amusement : if amuse- ment, of whatever nature it be, is considered as four hours in the twenty-four, it may politically * The representatioQ of this farce has lately been sup- pressed. be 145 be considered as six, from the effect it has on thd mind both before and after. It is not at balls and theatres that conspiracies are formed : nor was it the merry Anthony, but the gloomy and thoughtful CAssitJs, that Caesar feared. — Des- potic rulers ! would you live without fear, con- ceal your power, and amuse your people. Au- RELius, to keep the people in submission, pro- vided plenty of bread and amusements. He used to say — " Mind only your amusements, leave to us the care of providing for you,'* Pitti Palace, the present residence of the Sovereigns of Tuscany, was built by Luc a Pitti in 1460, and bought by Cosimo I. in 1549* It was the ruin of Luca Pitti, who had the foolish vanity to rival in expence a richer man than himself, Cosmo dei Medici, It is an immense building, by Brunelleschi : and when I consider that a private gentleman built it^or his own residence, I am concerned to think that the King of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, my much honored Sovereign, should be so indifferently lodged. This mag- nificent fabric is still unfinished, and, of course, has an awkward appearance in the midst of its grandeur. On one side I see a want of sym- metry in the parts, that I am astonished a Sove- reign should look at twice and not remedy. — As I advance, I find an apartment lately add- vofc, J, fc ed. 146 ed, which, differing in every respect from the palace to which it is annexed, destroys at once the beauty of the edifice. Princes I see are not exempt from the natural failings of humanity. Like us inferior beings, they also may say — " We have left undone those things which we ought to have done, and have done those things which we ought not to have done,** Several ceilings are admirably painted by PiETRO DA Cortona: — I am concerned when a good painter employs his art where it is not possible to view it with satisfaction. The Ma- donna della Seggiola, by Raphael, were it the only picture, would render this palace famous: though I conclude, from many of the paintings of that great artist, that he had not always the most beautiful models. In the same room is the famous portrait of Leo X., by the same master. You will see a copy of this picture at Capo di Monte at Naples, by Andrea del Sarto; not less remarkable from being that which GiULio Romano, scholar of Raphael, and himself an excellent painter, mistook for the original picture, Vasari says, the mistake had not been discovered, had he not been pre- sent when Andrea copied it: and, the other day, Fabrini, a Florentine artist, carried a head to the Marquis Manfredini, as an An- drea, which, being approved as such by the Che- 147 Chevalier , was hung np in the Marquis*s cabinet of Old Masters as a true Andrea. It has since been proved to have been painted by Fabrini himself. This was an admirable piece of revenge on the Chevalier , who had spoken contemptuously of him as a painter. Where so many pictures are good, I know not which to mention. The Four Philosophers, by Rubens, and the Two Children, by the same hand, you will look at with pleasure. The Venuses of this painter are less perfect. He copied his own Wives, and they unluckily had more of the Flemish enbonpoint than Grecian elegance. The Cupids of A lb an o were copied from his own children, and they were handsome. Though the colouring of the Three Fates, by Michael Angelo is faded, the outline is ad- mirable. Among many excellent portraits of Titian, is that of his Mistress: the head is the same as that of his Venus in the Gallery, the features of which are by no means suited to the character, and have done all they could to spoil the picture. It is clear Titiart was a lover, as well as a painter. In the last room, you see a tepresentation of Death, of the Resurrection, of Hell, and of Paradise, by the Chevalier N as i n i, of Siena— a Knight of little gallantry, for his best and principal figure is that of a woman falling headlong into hell-fire. Many of the L a ' rooms 14S rooms are small, and some are dark. I don't think the taste in fitting them up will every where please you. — A parcel of naked boys over the doors, in white stucco, look cold and shivering in rooms hung with red damask, and covered with pictures. The best part of the furniture is the inlaid tables in Pietra Dura, a "work of great labour and great expence. It is difficult to say which is most admirable, the ma- terials, or the workmanship. The old-fashioned cabinets are monstrously ugly: and the glass- tases, stuffed with baubles, are fit only for chil- dren. Should you be at Florence when the Court gives a fete, and see these apartments illuminated, it will then appear like the palace of a Sovereign. I cannot quit this palace without acquainting you, that in the passage is placed a trunk for secret information, of which the Grand Duke himself keeps the key. The Florentine cha- racter is not free from malevolence — judge then of the calumnies it contains ! — A vulgar saying tells us, that listeners seldom hear any good of themselves; — and this Prince often finds the severest satires against himself: upon this occa- sion they generally use printed characters to avoid discovery. The Corridore, which reaches from hence to the Gallery, is a piece of magnificence worthy the 149 the family of Medici. It has been the occasion of more than one amour. Here Cosimo I. first saw Camilla Martelli, fell in love with her, and married her: and here the Cardinal his son, when Grand Duke of Tuscany, intrigued vVith Viol ANTE Martelli, Camilla's niece. It was in the Cortile of this Palace that the Grand Duke Ferdinand gave a superb festival at his marriage. A castle was besieged, and taken from the Turks. The Duke of Mantua, and others the first personages of Italy, engaged afterwards in a tournament: and here, to con- clude the festival, the company after supper were agreeably surprised to behold a lake, where they had so lately been witnesses of a siege ; and a naval fight, on the very spot where knights had engaged on horseback. This magnificence ended with the family of Medici. At one end of the Cortile you read an inscpp- tion to the memory of a Mule that worked at the building, and which Montaigne, in his Description of Florence, tells vis was then liv- ing. — It is but just, where the greatest part of the labor lay, that there also should be some of the honor.* Lecticani, Lapides et Marmora, ligna, Columnas, "N'exit, conduxit, traxit ct ista tulit. The .150 I'he Garden of Boboli was open to thq public only three days in the year. It is now, thanks to the liberality of the present Sovereign, con- stantly open at all times, and to all persons. I have just heard of the death of a young man of my acquaintance, drowned in the river: a summer seldom passes without accidents of this kind. All animals, except man, swim natu- rally. Browne says, it is because they use the same action in the water, they do on land. — We must be taught; and a frog is the best master. It is a necessary, precaution : and yet it may be a doubt of which die most — ^of those who can swim, or of those who cannot. LET- 151 LETTER XVI. THE Riccardi Palace, built by Cosimo Pater Patriae, was the residence of the Medici family, till Cosimo I. removed to Pitti. It was begun in the year 1430, from the plan, and under the direction, of Mich elozzo. Duke Ferdinand sold it to the Riccardi family in the year 1659, for for^ty-one thousand crowns. The low windows of the Terreno were afterwards added by Michael Angelo; high windows were in fashion during the time of the Republic, as a security against the populace. The Pa-, lazzo Strozzi seems built to stand a siege — an incontestible proof of the strange turbulency of those times of freedom. Here Alexander, first Duke of Florence, was assassinated by Lorenzo, his cousin, while he expected a mistress which that villain, his fami- liar friend, and instrument of his pleasures, had promised to procure. It was late in the even- ing, 153 ing, and at the time of the carnival. The Duke, who was much fatigued, was desired by Lorenzo, in whose apartment he was, to repose himself on the bed till his return. The un- suspicious Sovereign readily complied, and, falling asleep, the villain soon after entered — not with the beautiful Ginori, but with another cut-throat as cruel as himself, — and the bloody deed was done, though not without difficulty, for the first stab not being mortal, the contest, though unequal, was continued a considerable time. Duke Alexander was a natural son; his mother was of mean birth : there have been different conjectures who was his father. He obtained the Dukedom by means of the Em- peror Charles V.> whose natural daughter he married. They tell you, for the Italians are fond of the marvellous, that the number six was particularly unlucky to him : that he was twenty- six when he was murdered ; that it was op the twenty-sixth of January 1536 — at the sixth hour of the night — in the sixth year of his reign;— and they even go so far as to say, that he re- ceived six wounds also ! — Lorenzo il Tradi- TORE,for so he was afterwards called, is said, by one act, to have effected three things direcdy contrary to his interest and intentions : — he killed the man who loved him best; made Duke of Florence his most inveterate enemy j and jren- It o DO rendered the condition of his country worse than it was before. He was assassinated himself, twelve years after, at Venice, by order of Cosimo I. His two assassins received a reward of one hundred crowns a year each, were made citizens of Florence, and rimesse due teste; which I suppose means a liberty to murder two other persons. Assassinations were venial sins in those days ; and the murder of one man was pardoned by the murder of another. A mur- derer, for instance, who escaped from justice, was not suffered to return, unless he killed, with his own hand, a rebel, or another murderer: thus he who committed one murder, suffered death J while he who committed two, was en- titled to a pardon ! Many magnificent festivals have been given in this palace, once the residence of Kings, Em- perors, and Popes. Those times are now no more; nor does it seem probable that the pre- sent proprietor should ever receive such guests. •■ A collection of medals, the famous Pliny, and a ceiling by Luca Giordano, are the principal remains of its ancient grandeur. This palace, as well as that of Pitti, was built by a private person. The private gentlemen of those days were more magnificent in their ideas than princes {ire at present. ThePalazzo Strozzi, built by BuoNTALENTi in 154 in 1489, is an immense building, and the Cor- tile magnificent. It contains but few pictures; one of the best is by Titian. ; These three palaces are all of the Tuscan order: an order more massive than elegant; and, one might think, better suited to a prison than a palace. When Pitti began, he boasted that the windows of his palace should be larger than the doors of that of Cosimo : and Filippo Strozzi said he would build another that should surpass them both. .Observe these three palaces with attention, built nearly at the same time by three private gentlemen of Florence, and name me three such, if you can, in any other town in Europe. Palazzo non Terminato of the Strozzi famil)f is by various architects. The lower windows, as also the front towards II Borgo degli Albizzi, are by Buontalenti. The Corsini Palace is admirably situated on the Lungarno, and contains several good pic- tures, particularly that of a Muse, by Carlo DOLCI. The Gherardesca Palace has the advantage of the country, and the pure air of Fiesole, TOMMASO BoNAVENTURI DEI CoNTI BELLA Gherardesca, Archbishop of Florence, when Vicario,has the following anecdote related of him:; A widow lady, with three children, threw herself at his 155 his feet to implore his protection, a neighbouring gentleman having commenced a law-suit to de- prive her of an estate which was the only sup- port of herself and family : he listened to her complaint, heard her reasons, which he thought so satisfactory that he assured her she might he perfectly easy^ for her cause was a good on^.— It however happened, that the adverse party shortly after produced such convincing proofs in hi§ own favor asobhged the honest Vicario to pass sentence against the widow, and deprive her of her possessions ; recollecting, however, what had passed between him and the lady, and the assurance he had then given her, he sent for the gendeman and bought the estate. When the widow returned to relate what had happened, and make known her distress, he received her ;^wjth these words — *^ Notwithstanding y Madam, •what passed between us when I saw you last, a^d- the assurances 1 then gave you of my protection, justice has obliged me to pass sentence against you ; and charity now requires I should make you the best amends in my power: dry up your tears — console yourself, and accept this new title to the estate, which now is honestly your own, and nobody can deprive you of it.'' In the Gerini Palace is the famous portrait of Rembrant. You will admire the St. Andrew of Carlo DoLCi. You will be pleased with the St. 156 St. Sebastian by Guercino: I suppose it to be St. Sebastian; but as he is unbound, and holds the arrows in his hand, which it is usual to see stuck in his body, the painter leaves the matter somewhat in doubt, which is never so well ex- pressed as when it cannot be mistaken. The Sebastian of Guido, though a horrid subject, may be looked upon with delight. Should you be inclined to criticise the elegant ease of the attitude, and the unnatural serenity of the coun- tenance, you have only to recollect that Sebas- tian was a saint. The Casa Altuiti possesses an inestimable treasure in the portrait of Raphael, mentioned by Vasari. The family have been tempted by great offers ; but nothing short of absolute necessity would excuse the parting with a por- trait of Raphael painted by himself. — We should be cautious how we dispose of any thing for money, that money cannot procure again. In the Casa Rinuccini is a drawinoj of Men^s a descent from the Cross, that cost a thousand crowns. It was one of the last of his per- formances. The Pretender inhabited for several years the palace now belonging to Duke St. Clemente. The terrejCLO, or ground- floor, where they live chiefly in summer, is excellent. A ceiling by VoLTERANNo has great merit. Palazzo 157 Palazzo Bartolini isby Baccio d'Agnolo* In the Casa Buonarrotti you see the principal occurrences in the hfe of the famous Michael Angelo Buonarrotti, painted by his scholars : also some of his designs unfinished, and his bust, by Giovanni Bologna. The family still live here ; but since his death have prudently declined having any thing to do with the arts. It is said there is a particularity attending this family worth remarking. For six succeeding genera- tions the heirs have alternately been distin- guished by talents and by stupidity. The pre- sent heir is a man of genius, but to a great degree eccentric, and is sent out of the country. The son of the famous Michael Angelo was little better than an idiot. I have heard an instance of the same kind in one of our English families ; but I shall not name it, as I do not recollect whether the present gentleman is a man of genius, a madman, or a fool. In the Palazzo Salviati, Cos i mo I. was edu-- cated under the direction of his mother, Maria Salviati. As I know nothing to commend in the palace, I will relate an anecdote of one of the family. A friend of this gentleman decoyed into the palace, and delivered into his hands, a professed and inveterate enemy, thinking to render him an essential service; to whom he sternly replied— J/^tfi no advantage, however. greaiy 158 great, should induce him so grossly to violate the laws of hospitality y as to put a defenceless man to death under his own ronf^ though an enemy! — Who would not wish to call such a man his friend ! At St. Gaetano is a small house of beautiful architecture, by Michael Angelo: but the houses in general, with two or three exceptions, have little to recommend them on the outside; and within are better calculated for summer, than for winter. I think they told me at the Ric- Cardi Palace, that they had thirty-two rooms on one floor, and only two fire-places : perhaps they have found out, that chimneys occasion more cold than heat. — In good truth, unless great fires are kept in them, and it is not the fashion in this country, they are neither more nor less than holes in the wall, and do more harm than good : in short, I verily believe you would be warmer at Petersburgh in winter, than at Florence; you must not expect the warm comforts of colder climates ; doors and windows are not made to shut like snuff-boxes, and the north wind when it blows, is most severely felt. For my own part, I was never more sensible of the winter's cold than in this warm climate, partly from the houses being so ill calculated to resist it, and partly from the excessive heat of the mid-day sunj your pores are open; you are 159 are chilled afterwards in the shade, and frozen in the wind. To this may be attributed the Mai di Petto (inflammation on the lungs), to which Florence is particularly subject : it is not less subject during the winter*months to acci^ dejites (apoplexies): but the air is so pure, and so dry in summer, that all sleep with their win- dows open; and I have often thought, that, with the greatest ease, every house might be robbed ^t any hour of the night. Italians are not much troubled with the gout; partly owing to their abstemiousness, ■ and partly, perhaps, to the warmth of a climate v;hich promotes perspiration without the aid of violent exertions. Mark Anthony was afflicted with it; but he was a" jolly fellow, and owed it most probably to his own intemperahce. England has lately suffered a great loss from that' disorder by the: death oB Lord Camelford. He left Florence for Pisa- with the gout upon him, and died immediately on his arrival. I know not if you were as well acquainted with his value in private as in public life ; he was truly amiable in both. As a man of the world, his gende and engaging manners endeared him to society, and will cause him to be long regretted by all who knew him. In a country more famed for economy than expence, you will not exp?ct to find elegant furniture. One apartment is usually fitted up ^ new 160 new at the marriage of the eldest son ; but even then the floors, which are of brick, are not covered with carpets : the windows are not better glazed than an English cottage ; nor does it equal in taste or elegance an indifferent hotel in Paris. Footmen do the work of house-maids in every town in Italy j nor are the insides of our houses as clean as the yard of a Dutch- man. I have just been in company with a young man whose history is particular: — his mother is his sister, A gentleman who had a natural daughter, put her into a Conservatorio at Venice, and left the country; returning several years after he met this girl by accident, fell in love with her, and married her. He has lately dis- covered, beyond the possibility of a doubt, that he has married his own daughter.— Signor Carlo de P— — is the unfortunate offspring of that unnatural connection. LET- 161 LETTER XVII. THE elegant building of the Uffizzi, by G. Vasari, was intended by Cosimo I. for the different offices of the state.* It is to his son Francesco, who succeeded to the Diikedom, that we are obliged for the first establishment of the Gallery. The Tribune, by BuoNTALENTi, was added by his order: and hither, under the direction of that excellent artist, were removed the statues, pictures, me- dals, &:c. of his ancestors. Ferdinand, who, during a long residence at Rome as Cardinal, increased that love of the arts which was natural to him, added to the building, and improved the collection. The St. John, by Raphael; the Madonna della Seggiola ; the Portrait of Leo X. ; and the * Was built in the year 1564. VOL. I. M famous 162 famous Diamond, of one hundred and thirty- nine carats'; are proofs of his taste and his munificence.* Ferdinand the Second followed the example of his predecessors. The Hermaphrodite; Cupid and Psyche; the famous Idol in bronze; and the Venus of Titian; were owing to his liberality. You will little imagine that it was to the in- temperance of Cos I MO IIL the Gallery owes its greatest ornament. When advised by his physicians to walk a great deal, his ministers took that occasion to propose the Gallery; and the famous Venus, the Lottatori, Arrotino, and Antinoiis, were brought thither from Rome, and many others 6f less note from the Pitti Palace and Garden of BoboH, I have thus slightly ■ traced the Gallery of Florence from its first establishment, and have mentioned the names of those illustrious per- sonages to whom it has been most particularly indebted. It now remains to say, that the judicious arrangement of this treasure of the arts was left to the Grand Duke Leopold, to whose kind auspices it owes its present favorable * Valued by Tavern IE R at four hundred and thirty- five thousand crowns. form ; 163 form ; and by whose liberality artists of genius daily improve by copying the most celebrated paintings of the best masters. It is thus private collections, in good hands, become of public benefit. To describe the various beauties of the Gal- lery of Florence would infinitely exceed the limits, of a letter. My remarks will be very confined; but there are printed books that will supply the deficiency. If you are an admirer of the arts, you will first pay your court, without doubt, to the Me- Dici family, to whose taste and magnificence we owe this inestimable treasure. Their Seven Busts are very properly placed in the Vestibule, with inscriptions, which, if your Latin be not forgotten, you will do well to read. As you are a Jockey, you will look with a curious eye for the names of some racers of antiquity, as famous I suppose, in their time, as Herod and Eclypse. As you are a Sportsman, the Two Dogs that guard the entrance are entided to your regard. The best pictures are not in the Corridore. The portraits of great personages and famous jjien, are most of them indiflPerent copies, from whose features it would be difficult to trace the tenor of their lives. That of Mary, Queen of JScots, doe* by no means agree with Bran- M 2 TOME** 164 tome's description of her: he says, she wore false locks, and of different colours; and that no man ever beheld her person without admira- tion or love. The Busts and Statues of the Emperors and Empresses merit all your atten- tion. Those who are acquainted with their histories and their vices, will nicely examine the different characters of their countenances ; those who are not, may admire the sculpture; and ladies will remark many head-dresses similar to their own. Young Nero was a beautiful boy, no feature in that countenance indicates cruelty, or tyranny. It is also to be remarked, that, for many years of his reign, Nero was the best of Princes ; and so perfectly humane, that when an order for the execution of a criminal was brought him to sign, he said — " He wished he knezu not how to write!" Adrian was the first Emperor who wore a beard. Before his time, their chins were kept as smooth as our own ; but the means they used are not so well known. Admire Antinous ; his face and figure might have excused any other frailty except that of Adrian. Among the ladies, Agrippina claims your attention: a majestic ease in her deportment, bespeaks an Empress who for several years, both as wife and mother, governed those who governed 165 governed the world. Her ambition, her vices, and the manner of her death, merit some re- flection. Observe the head-dress of Marciana, Tra- jan's sister — the same pin the Contadina's now wear, supports her tresses behind, and the fore part is composed of a false toupee, and, in my opinion, not very becoming. Julia, Popple a, and the frail Daughter of Antoninus Pius, were the beauties of ancient Rome. v You see a Vestal Virgin with the fire burning. You have read much of the lata Clava ; you may see it in a statue a few paces from the entrance. Observe, as you proceed, the decadency of the Arts, and the astonishing difference between the ages of Augustus and CoNSTANTiNE. The Chimera, half Lion, half Goat, with an Etruscan epigraph which nobody understands, was found near Arezzo, in the time of Cosimq the First. The Horse is thought to have belonged to the family of Niobe. I cannot commend his shape, and the part that has been restored is abominable. The snaffle then in use differs but litde from our own. The Wild Boar is a wonderful piece of Gre- cian sculpture. It was a litde damaged by the fire in the year 1762, which threatened destrqc- tion to the whole collection. In 16(5 In an inner room you see the Bella which the young Patricians wore till they came of age; they were nearly in the form of a heart, and were usually of gold. Among the Busts, that of Cicero with the wart on his cheek, merits your attention — a ridiculous mistake of the sculpture: it was the name he inherited, not the wart. The Alexan- der is beautiful; and whether he be lamenting the death of his friend Clitus, or that he has no other world to conquer, cannot be too much admired. It has been remarked, that his hair is in imitation of that of Jupiter, whose son he wished to be thought. The conquests of Alex- ander seem even more extraordinary than those of C^sar, if you consider the inferiority of the means by which they were effected: — besides, he was always victorious; C^sar was sometimes defeated. In peace he was, perhaps, his supe- rior; and the whole tenor of his conduct, even to the very moment of his death, when he left the succession to the most worthyy is a strong contrast to the turbulent character of that ambitious Dictator! — But surely nothing does Alexan- der so much honor as that the vanquished Da- rius should employ the last moments of his life in supplicating the Gods to recompense his con- queror for the humanity, indulgence, and gene- rosity he had shewn to those who were the dear- est 167 est to him upon earth. The unfinished bust of Brutus, by Michael Angelo, has occasioned some wit, and a more severe reflection on the Roman patriot than the sculptor probably, whose principles were Republican, ever intended. Brutus, at least, was instigated to what he did by the love of his country; the intention was noble, though the means were vile. His virtue in not occasioning more deaths than one, we can- not but approve, though Macchi av el lo would not commend its policy; he would have told him that the death of Anthony was not less necessary than that of C^sar to secure the liberties and quiet of the Republic. In many of the Basso Relievos you see the manners and customs of the times ; and it may be necessary to inform you that one of the most curious pieces of ancient sculpture, is a certain Pagan Deity, not commonly shewn ; but, to judge by his extraordinary size, we may sup- pose that, when publicly viewed, he was generally worshipped. The Tribune possesses the chief excellencies of Sculpture and Painting. The Venus of Medicis and Venus of Titian vie with each other; and were the other pictures equal to the other statues, this room would then be perfect. TheVenus (Iwish she were taller) is of exquisite beauty. The author is unknown : it was not 'on V70i\ Cle- 168 ' Cleomenes. It is doubtful whether it be the Venus of Gnidos by Praxiteles, though she is described in the same modest attitude ; and employing both her hands, as bashful ness would direct. Let the author be who he may, the more you examine this statue, the more you will admire it. You see at once that she is high bred, and, were you not told she is a goddess, you could not mistake her for a common woman. The hands you may think rnanieriy but they are modern. The Arrotino has long puzzled the Conoscenti. The intention of the sculptor is not known, but by the beard he wears, it is generally understood that the person represented was of low condi- tion. Niobe and her Family have forsaken Ronae to adorn the Gallery of Florence, where they are more sumptuously lodged, but less advanta- geously placed than in the Villa Medici. The room is very large, and very cold. This, it is true, is of htde consequence to them who stood in a garden, exposed to the winter's blast for so many years, but to us who visit them is by i?o means a matter of indifference. It is finished also in a style better suited to a drawing-room than to a repository for statues ; but to such a state of desperation are the arts reduced in this once famous country that, we not. only cannot make a statue, but know not what to do with it when 169 ,.y/hen we have it. The Centaur, a beautiful statue by Giovanni Bologna, which had stood near two hundred years in a street that had ]taken its name, has been twice removed within my remembrance : — it is now shut up, because they literally do not know what to do with it, and I wish they may not be tempted at last to throw it into the river to avoid any further trouble. It is not my intention to describe the Pic- tures of the Gallery. Were I to mention those which please me most, I should be puzzled where to begin and where to end. I was shocked at the Medusa of Leonardo da ^ Vinci, probably that which Vasari mentions, and am always concerned when a painter of eminence employs his art on a horrid subject. The Portraits of upwards of four hundred Painters, all painted by themselves, form a col- lection not to be met with, I believe, in any . other country. Your friend. Sir Joshua Rey- nolds, is among the number. I wish the \ colouring of his own portrait may last longer ^ than that of his other paintings. This excellent artist does not paint for posterity ; and in a few years, were it not for the engraver, it might be a doubt if he ever existed. I am no painter; yet J I cannot help wondering the art of colouring should 170 should be so much neglected, since not only the immediate effect depends upon it, but the future reputation of the painter himself. — The colour- ing of Titian, though three hundred years are already elapsed, is as beautiful as it was at first. Statues and Pictures are not the only wonders of this superb Gallery. It possesses a treasure in gems, <&:c. that no Sovereign could afford to purchase. The little elegant Cammeo, which represents Cupid riding on a Lion, is of the greatest beauty. The idea is ingenious, and the execution admirable ! To complete this cabi- net was the labour of more than two centuries. The famous Medici Diamond was once its brightest ornament. They tell you it is at Vienna j — the Emperor best knows by what right. The collection of Coins and Medals, and the Original Drawings by the old masters, are worth your seeing, but are not usually shewn. Here are also Etruscan inscriptions to amuse and puzzle the antiquarian ; and antique vases, of various forms, some for ornament, and some for use : — Guttae, which held the oil to anoint^ their bodies when they came out of the bath; Paterae, used in sacrifices ; Lamps in abundance; and litde glass botdes, called Lacrimatori, sup- posed, 171 posed to have received the tears they shed. Observe the votive offerings which the ancients hung up in their temples after a recovery.* They are of potters' earth, and made to repre- sent the part affected. You see a great number of legs and arms j I observed a breast, from whence one may presume the lady had been cured of a cancer. The Mosaic of Pietra dura, begun by Cosi- MO I., continued by Francesco, and perfected by Ferdinand, is formed of natural stones inlaid, and not of a composition like that of Rome : landscapes, sea views, birds, fruits, and flowers, are usually represented. It is a work of patience and expence. To finish a table like those of the Pitti Palace is the constant occupa- tion of three years; the cost not less than twenty thousand crowns. The Mosaic at Rome an- swers a better purpose; it will faithfully render the paintings of the best masters to the latest posterity. The Gallery is always open for the benefit of •iriists, except on holidays, and the inner apart- ments are shewn to visitors by a person appointed * The same custom is still observed at the Campo Santo at Pisa. on 172 on purpose, and not permitted to receive any gratuity. One circumstance I forgot. They tell you that this cabinet formerly contained an extraor- dinary Padlock, or Ceinture de Chastete. — Let every married man on this occasion remember the words of Prior ; Let all her ways be unconfin'd. And clap the padlock on her mind. LET- 173 LETTER XVIII. IT is astonishing with what rapidity a Museum is formed that has an' intelligent- person to direct it. Acquisitions are continually making, and the bulk daily increasing, when, like the miser's store, it suffers no diminution. In a few years, the Chevalier Fontana, a man of talents, native of Roveredo,. has formed a cabi- net which, in many of its parts, has not its equal; and where the well-informed naturalist may find continual amusement : but the same reasons that prevented my entering into the detail of the beauties of the Gallery, must also deter me from 'describing the Gabinetto Fisico. ' The anatomical preparations in wax are the best in Europe. They may tempt you, per- haps, to go through a course of anatomy, since you can do it without disgust; nor can any study be more interesting than that which so nearly concerns ourselves. The part, however, that 174 that relates to labour, it may not be the interest of mankind that women should see. The gen- tleman to whom the town of Florence is obliged for the arrangement and improvement of this Museum, and the learned world for many valu- able discoveries, is engaged at present in a work of inestimr\ble value — a Statue in wood that takes to pieces, shewing the whole body in all its parts, its muscles, its nerves, its veins, its arteries, and the whole intricacies of that frame which we are told is so fearfully and so wonder- fully made. What a pleasant way of studying anatomy ! In one respect this answers even better than the human body itself, where, to get at one muscle, you must first destroy another : here all take to pieces as tbey are wanteds - Araohg tllie piapyoCurip^ities which this Mu- *^unpi contains, are the I^prns of an unknown fanimal, reseipbling those of a bull, but consi- derably bigger ; and the Teeth of a young ele^ phar)t, found in the Val d'Arno, not? far from Florence, This is, indeed, a curipsity. Hay these inhabitants of the torrid zone ever found their way into a country so different from their own, is a question, I believe, not easy to deter- mine. They are found in great quantity, and of all ages: the few that Hannibal brought along with him into Italy, all died except one, by the severity of the. cold at the battle of Treb- bia.. 175 bia. The bones of this animal, as well as those of the rhinoceros, are also found in Siberia, wliere it is pretty certain neither of them could at present exist. You see basalt, pumice stones, and lava, produce of volcanoes, found in Tus- cany, where not a single volcano is now remain- ing; which has led some to conclude that the world is older than it is thought ; nor, as they say, will the term of six thousand years in any- wise account for the various strata of lava found one under another in the neidibourhood of iEtna and Vesuvius. Voltaire says—" Que Ic monde est une vieille Putain qui cacfie Hen son Examine the Amiantus, a mineral substance, of woolly texture, endued with the wonderful property of resisting firej froiii which the an- cients made, a -^itid of cloth, V6 preserve thib a^hes of the bodies that they burnt. It is found in several parts of Italy. Of petrified wood here are various specimens of the greatest beauty; and fossils with the impression of fish, from l^onte Bolca, near Verona: some of which are unknown in these seas, and found in that of Otaheite. The Cornu Ammonis has this parti- jcularity, that, though the petrifaction is fre- quently found, the shell itself is unknown. The Camelion, a kind of lizard, changes colour .according to the objects presented to itj lives on 176 on flies, but has been kept alive many montbs without any kind of food. Among the Insects is a Scarabeo Imperiale, a briUiant little animal, that appears covered with diamonds of different colours; and the Curculio Bebula, lately found out to be efficacious iri curing the; tooth-ach. In short, insects, shells, and minerals, are the most complete parts of the collection, and mostly deserve your attention. Acquainted as you are with Lever's Museum, you need not lose much time in looking at the animals. Here is no Giraffa, to make amends for other deficiencies ; nor even one Gumarre, an animal supposed to be generated by horses with cows, or by bulls with mares, and an- nounced by Baretti as common in Piedmont; but, as far as I can find, is as little known there, ■as in this or any other country. The Egyptian Mummy, which they tell us is at least three thousand years old, is not a bit bigger than ourselves : from whence we might \ conclude that mankind are not so much degene- rated as some people think, and as Homer and Virgil would make us believe. The Egyp-f lians are said to have painted their mummies to resemble as much as possible the person when alive :— either this was a bad painter, or the wo- man one of the ugliest I ever beheld. A re- presentation of the Plague in wax, done in the timt 1 177 time of the Medici, is said to be admirably executed ; you will conclude therefore that it cannot be looked at with pleasure. I know not who was the first discoverer of the fact that, in some of the insect tribes, animation is capable of being suspended and renewed almost ad injinitum. The Rotifer is well known to die and revive alternately in the gutters of our houses, during the summer months, by being supplied with, or deprived of, a drop of moisture. But the Chevalier Fontana has discovered a much more curious instance of this property. He has found that some damaged wheat, taken from a granary in which it had remained up- w'ards of forty years, is composed of millions of eels, which, being moistened with water, imme- diately revive, and move with agility ; but can only be seen by the help of a microscope. In the Gabinetto Fisico you will find a con- tinual source of entertainment ; — but, since something must ever be wanting, and whatever has to do with brick and mortar in this country must infallibly be mean and trifling, neither the elegance nor convenience of the building in any-wise correspond with the treasure it con- tains. The rooms are all litde and low ; and so cold, that even an inhabitant of the north, can- not visit them without complaining. A private collection, belonging to a countryman of ours, VOL. I. N is 178 IS also well furnished, and well arranged.—- Though these Cabinets have afforded me infi- nite pleasure, a moment's reflection tells me that treasures of this kind are not to be envied, since the stranger who is at no trouble or expence, enjoys them more than the possessor. How true what Shakespeare says : " Happy thou art notyjor what thou hast not still thou strivest to gety and what thou hast forgettest." How applicable to every situation in life, and par- ticularly to gentlemen oi^ virtu who are ever more sensibly mortified by that which they cannot ob- tain, than they receive pleasure from that which they possess. Of the Observatory, which is part of this building, I have nothing to observe, unless it be that in all the town of Florence it might be dif- ficult to find another situation so ill suited to the purpose. If the force of attraction in all bodies were in exact proportion to the quantity of matter they contain, a Lady of my acquaintance, La Signora , would be irresistable. She was as beauti- ful, as large. You shall now hear what has just happened to her. This unfortunate lady has met with a monster in the form of a Cavalier Servente, who, abusing the privilege of attend- ing her to the theatre, has disfigured her on her return home to such a degree as to render this beau- 179 beautiful woman an object of disgust and horror* I have just been to see her : — her nose is almost cut off, it hangs as it were by a single thread,— her upper lip is severed in two, and has left a frightful chasm, through which her teeth and gums appear. The quantity of blood she has lost, the pain she has suffered, the anxiety she feels, render her one of the most interesting objects I ever beheld, and the most disgusting. Jealousy is thought to have occasioned it. You will be surprised to hear that this ruffian is of one of the best families at Naples. You will be sorry to hear that he has escaped. If assassination could ever be justified, it would be in a case like this. I could readily forgive the husband or the brother of this injured lady, were he to send another villain after him, cruel and unprincipled as himself, to treat him in the same manner. He is beneath the resentment of a man of honor. N 2 LET- 180 LETTER XIX. ITALY in general is well provided with pub- lic Libraries, and much learning is shut up there that all might have access to if they pleased. The town of Florence has not less than three. The Laurenziana Library begun by Cos i mo Pater Patriae, and afterwards continued by Lo- renzo il Magnifico his grandson, is confined to Manuscripts only, and said to contain upwards often thousand. They were procured in great part from Constantinople, by means of the ex- tensive commerce the Medici family at that time carriedoninthe Levant; were afterwards increas- ed by LEoX.andCLEMENxVIL, and completed by CosiMO L in 1571. The plan of thebuilding by Michael An GELO has this particularity: the books are chained to reading desks on each side the room. The door is much admired, but you will be shocked to see a vestibule and stair-case by the great Michael Angelo, unfinished, and 181 and the materials still on the spot, as they were left in the time of the Medici. Michael Angelo has still more reason to complain of the barbarity of the age than Luc a Pitti.* The famous Virgil, rival of that of the Vatican, was procured at Rome by Cosimo I. of Cardinal Innocenzio dei Monti, whose property it was. This alone may be considered as a literary trea- sure. For its antiquity you have the authority of T. RuFius, who was Consul of Rome in the year 494 : — " Tiirvles Ricfius Apronianus Asiem rius Legiy et distinxi Codicem." This testimony proves its existence then, but we do not know how long it may have existed before that time. The Eneid in this manuscript does not begin with " ///^ ego qui quon-da?}iy Be.'" They are indifferent lines, and it is generally believed that Virgil never wrote them. I confess I should have thought otherwise had I seen them here. The Eneid was left unfinished, and condemned by its author to the flames, as unfit for the public eye. To the vanity of Augustus we ov/e its preservation. That Emperor who would not consent that it should be destroyed, gave it to TuscA and Varus, men of distinguished abili- ties, to revise and publish. They had the liberty * See Letter XIV. to 182 to retrench, but not to add ; and the many un, finished verses that still remain are incontestible proofs that the confidence was not ill placed. I will only ask if it is not more probable that Virgil, in an unfavourable moment, should have written those lines, than that two men of acknowledged talents, in an age so renowned for taste and elegance, should have been silly enough to spoil, by an addition of their own, directly ^contrary to the express order of the Emperor, an introduction which has been the admiration and envy of every succeeding Poet. It is said that OcTAviA, sister to Augustus, gave Virgil three thousand crowns for three lines. It was a high price, yet not more than they deserved, since we know of no other merit Marcellus had. They shew you a Bible in the time of San Gregorio (about one hundred years after), and you may perceive an evident difference in the characters. — This is said to be the oldest Bible in Europe. In Petrarch's Virgil is his Portrait, and that of Laura. The Tacitus is the father of all the Tacitus's now extant, and the manuscript of the Florentine History by Macchiavel, in his own hand writing, deserve^ your attention. The Pandects, a collection of Roman Laws by Justinian, brought by the Pisan? 1S3 Pisans from Amalfi, and from Pisa to Florence in great triumph when that city was subdued by the Florentines, is worth your inquiry ; as are the Travels of Co si mo III. You will there see many views of English villas, and may read a curious journal of that Prince's travels. At Wilton, the writer tells us two ladies sung him an English air, assai male (very ill) ; and seems to doubt whether to lay the greatest blame on the singers or the music. His account of the man- ners of the English Court is not more favour-, able ; and, though he allows that the nobility, and particularly those who had travelled, were more civiUzed than the populace, yet he denies that they arrive at the disinvoliura of the Italians (it is an Italian who speaks), and describes them as preserving their natural melancholy on every occasion, their mind constantly occupied by some unpleasant reflection. This Prince was well received by Charles II. and staid three months at his Court, yet his country received but litde advantage from his travels ; he returned proud, vain, and full of prejudices. Little bet- ter could be expected from a man educated by Friars, who from his youth was averse to plea- sure, and is even represented as a declared enemy to poetry and music. Avaricious, cruel, and despotical, he was a bigot without virtue ; and 184 and as he had spent the greater part of his time among Priests, by them only was he regretted.* The Marucelliana Library is open every Monday. Wednesday, and Friday, and contains many useful books and some valuable editions, particularly one of Dante of the year 1481, with cuts by Maso Finiguerra, a Florentine, said to have been the first engraver and inventor of that art. Is it not strange that an art so simple, and at the same time so useful, should have re- mained so long unknown. Few of the editions of Dante have more than two cuts — this has nineteen. Another valuable curiosity is the finger of Galileo, a philosophical relic. The very finger that first pointed out the Satellites of Jupiter. He csWtdthQmStene Medicee/mcom- pliment to the Grand Duke Cosimo IF, but if that family had not immortalized themselves by the encouragement they gave to arts and letters, this attempt, though well meant, had not suc- ceeded, for the Satellites of Jupiter have already lost the name he gave them. A gentleman, I shall not say of what nation, I am glad he was * This Holy man, after various persecutions, confined the Chevalier ActiAioLi in a dungeon for life, for no other crime than that of marrying the Signora Mormor ai without his approbation, not 185 pot an Englishman, asked the librarian if Ga- lileo was not a Roman Emperor ! — I never saw a man so shocked in my life, and I believe he was heartily glad when he got rid of us. The Magliabechi Library takes its name from the founder Antonio Magliabechi, a man of an extraordinary memory. In this library are some curious manuscripts, and many beautiful and rare editions. Compare Bodoni with Baskerville; divest yourself of prejudice, and give the Italian all the praise he deserves. Here also is a Dante of the year 1481 ; and a curious Pandect of Roman Laws of the year 1525, adorned with miniatures that are an ho- nor to that time. The original Pandect from which all the others are derived, I have already mentioned among the Laurenziana manuscripts. The Accademia Florentina, formerly La Crus- ca, founded by the Grand Duke Ferdinand, is held here every Thursday. This Academy once rendered itself famous by its Criticisms on the Jerusalem of Tasso, encouraged to it by the Grand Duke Francesco, the family of Medici, and the Florentines in general, having been severely handled by that author in one of his Dialogues. He calls the Florentines artists^ and the Government, " Giogo della nuova Tiran^ nide della Casa Medici." In return, they gave the preference to Ariosto, and placed Tasso second 186 second only; a judgment to which the world, I believe, has not generally subscribed. L'Accademia del Cimento which began in 1657 for experimental Philosophy, under the auspices ofl'rince Leopold, son of Cosi mo II. set the example to Paris and London. Louis XIV. and Charles II. founded their Royal Academies in imitation of it. The ancient Academy del Disegno, founded in 1350, was the first academy of the kind in Europe. It was re-established by the present Sovereign in 1784. The students are provided with casts of the best statues, and supplied with paper, pencils, brushes, canvas, and colours, at the expence of the Sovereign. Prize medals are also distributed to the most deserving. o Thus far great praise is due : but if you inquire into the capacity of the masters, you will find some of them deficient in the common principles j of drawing, and yet one month in the year the whole academy is under their direction. — Are such persons proper to direct where once Mi- chael Angelo presided! and in a country once superior in science even to Rome itself I — <- A short residence in Tuscany will, however, convince you, that were the means better adapted to the intention, it would be to litde purpose while taste is wanting, and merit is not en- couraged. I have just bought General Elliot on 187 on horseback, by one of their best engravers, .The horse is a perfect monster, and the General not much better : I mean to hang it up by one of Bartolozzi's, who is also a Florentine, to shew their countrymen that talents seldom come to perfection except where they meet with en- couragement. What I have said of the masters, leaves me nothing to say of the performances of the scholar.s, in which there is little to com- mend. In this Academy you see a curious statue of Germanicus. He is said to have invented the game of Mora^ the present amusement of the lowest class of people in Italy, in order to keep his soldiers employed. This statue is supposed to represent him playing at it. The original is at Versailles. The Accademia dei Georgofili was instituted for the encouragement of agriculture, and pre- miums are given every year. This institution would be useful if the premiums were properly bestowed. During the time I have been here, I have known them given first for cutting down trees, and shortly afterwards for planting them. Having thus given some, though an imperfect account of the libraries of Florence, you will probably expect something should now be said of the state of Literature. On this subject I Jxave little to say. There is no science for gen- tlemen 188 tlemcn in this country but poetry, and few are born poets. Where there is no copy-right, there will be many publishers, and few authors. Any one may print who pleases. An ingenious friend of mine, whose Fables have already gone through many editions, has himself received the advantage of one only. The talents of Italy are at present chiefly employed in translations, and though no genius is necessary, more knowledge is required than these gentlemen usually possess — an intimate acquaintance with both languages. Some there are who make a merit of using the same number of words: it would be more to the purpose were they to give the precise meaning of the author. Though authors refrain fiom publishing for more than one reason ; though regular-bred poets are no longer to be found, improvisatori, or quacks in poetry, are frequently to be met with, not only in Tuscany, but in every part of Italy. Improvisatorying is a talent peculiar to the Italians. Neither the author of Paradise Lost, nor of the Henriade, nor any of their suc- cessors, were improvisatori : from whence I conclude it to depend more on the language of the country, than on the poetic genius of the people. I have no doubt that it is full of im- posture — excuse and compliment form a con- siderable part of it, which are ready piepared, t and 189 and suit all subjects, and all occasions. Verses that please over night, would hardly escape the fire in the morning. The Chevalier Perfetti, the most celebrated improvisatore of his time, esteemed all over Italy, and even crowned in the Campidoglio, might have retained his repu- tation had he not published his poetry, tt is a charming talent in its proper place; but let it be confined to the table where all are inclined to merriment, and where, if you are enchanted, you are seldom disposed critically to examine whe- ther you ought to be eachanted or not. Arts, sciences, and letters, are nearly on a level, and from the same cause. It is not genius that is wanting, but encouragement. The Medici family not only encouraged science, and protected men of learning, but received them with kindness and familiarity. They were well aware that the reputation of Princes is in their hands; — that it is as easy to speak ill as well of them, without deviating from the truth; and that some virtues may be found in all. Augustus, a dastardly cut-throat, did some good actions : and our own Richard has found his panegyrist. The policy of former times is now reversed : science is annihilated ; and the day not far off when talents will be sought for in Tuscany, and not be found. — The principal offices of the State must then be entrusted either to the hands of 190 of foreigners, who are always looked upon with an evil eye ; or be left to the guidance of those who, like unskilful pilots, will accelerate the ruin they were intended to prevent I L£T« 191 LETTER XX, !l' ' IT may be a matter of doubt, whether Hospi- tals, though in appearance and intention so perfectly humane, are, in their consequences, an advantage to the community, for whose benefit they were established. I fancy those countries where they are unknown, are not less healthy; perhaps, not less populous.— But, as it is not my design to enter into a question of such im- portance, I shall proceed in my description of the Hospitals of Florence. The Hospital of Santa Maria Nuova is a handsome building, clean, airy, and wholesome ; but is half ruined by an unlucky speculation, that of disposing of their patrimony: they are now obliged to buy every thing. Cato says— " Pater familias vendaccrriy non eviacem esse oporiet." The regulations, in many instances, deserve commendadon. The sick are separated from the wounded j the convalescents, from the sick; i 192 , sick ; the men, from the women ; and each has a bed to himself. It was otherwise at Paris. A friend of mine, a man of veracity, has assured me, that he once saw there, what you will with difficuUy believe, three men in one bed — one ill, one dying, and one dead. — How horrid! It is worse than the cruelty of Mezentius ! The Kitchen is curious. The same fire not only roasts and boils, but, by means of iron- partitions, occasionally introduced, the several stew-pans that are constantly in use, are heated or cooled, without being moved from their places. The same fire heats water also for the baths, serves as a ventilator, and answers every other purpose of the hospital. It is said, that the ability of the Professors is in no wise equal to the magnificence of the build- ing : that operations are awkwardly performed,^ and patients die under their hands that might have been saved. Migliore informs us, that from the foundation of this hospital, in the year 1287 to 1680, the year in which he wrote, it appeared on the books that three hundred and sixty thousand bodies had been buried there in die space of three hundred and ninety-two years. It is but lately that they have given mercury in the venereal disease. For many years they used no other remedy than salsa parilla, and guiacum. I leave you to judge how many they cured. Is it 193 it not extraordinary that mercury, that wonder- ful specific, the only one existing for that fatal disorder, should have been known, tried, and its good effects acknowledged, in the time of Paolo Giovio,* yet disused and discredited afterwards for more than a century, even till the time of Alessandro da Carpi. It is said that this disorder, when acquired in a warm, is not easily got rid of in a cold climate. It is computed that they lose two thirds of those whom they cut for the stone. Considered as a school of anatomy, the institution is excel- lent. About thirty patients die every month; a room is appropriated to receive the dead bodies, and the surgeon who attended me, not finding any there, said it was the first time he ever knew it fail. From thence they are removed to the dissecting room as they are wanted. — Had our surgeons the same advantage, the dead might be suffered to remain quiet in their graves :— phy- sicians might learn to cure by those they kill ; and he who had grossly and fatally mistaken the disease, improve by his own errors. A curious experiment has been tried here to cure the bite of a mad dog, by the bite of a * In the year 1494, soon after it first broke out in Italy. VOL. I, e viper* 194 viper. You know that one is thought to be fatal by dissolving the blood j the other, by go^. agulating it. The experiment I think more witty, than judicious J for, allowing the. theory to be just, I cannot conceive the possibility of hitting the exact proportion :' if too little of the venom of the viper, the patient would die of the bite of the mad dog ; if too much, of that of the viper. I saw in this hospital a shocking object ; a man with a tumour in his arm that was swelled as big as his body : no chance of suppuration — amputation impossible : no rest, night nor day : a probability of living some months — and the certainty of a painful death ! A thought of such an unfortunate being might render us easy under those trifles which, for want of greater evils, we call sufferings. It has since occurred to me in riding by, that if an accident was then to happen, I should prefer the hospital to my own house : — that, surrounded by miseries greater than my own, and perhap§ less merited, I should receive more comfort thap from the sight of pleasures I could not enjoy, and yet might envy. Not that I should choose to be carried thither, like the man I met yesterday, on a bier, covered with black ; supported and attended by a parcel of dismal figures in long black gowns and black masks, looking more like devils than men: if the 195 the poor fellow had weak nerves, he might fancy himself already both dead and damned. Count — , just arrived at Florence, meeting with an accident at Fiesole, the Misericordia were sent for to carry him home ; but when he saw the apparatus, and the dismal appearance it made, he fancied they thought him dead, and intended to bury him. ^t was to no purpose he was assured to the contrary, and told how handy they are in their operations ; he still persisted that not one of them should touch himj he put himself in a posture of defence; and they were obliged to return as they came. My friend Sterne took for the text of one of his Sermons — " It is better to enter the house of mourning, than the house of feasting;" and then, after his own whimsical manner, adds — " That I deny." The subject is ingeniously treated, and, to a reflecting mind, both may be useful. It is natural to fly from objects of hor- ror ; yet a visit now and then to these mansions of melancholy and distress, while it prompts us to acts of charity and benevolence, may at the same time teach us not to set a greater value on life than it deserves. Before I quit the subject I must tell you, that a few years ago, the Governor (a great bigot) ordered, that all the invalids should keep Lent, except such as could produce a dispensation o 2 under 196 under the hand of their physician. One might have thought the very circumstance of being in the hospital a sufficient proof that they were sick, without any other. A separate hospital for the insane and cuta- neous disorders is also worth your seeing. The Misericordia was first instituted at the time of the plague ; a calamity to which Flo- rence has been subject not less, I think, than twenty-one times. The most fatal was that in the time of Boccaccio, when one hundred thousand people died of it, the greatest part in Florence. In the convent of the Monache di San Martino, is a marble inscription against the wall on the inside, near Via Polverosa, announ- cing that twenty thousand bodies lie buried there who died of the plague in 1479. During the plague in 1630, the Misericordia were particu- larly useful ; and left in writing the method they then observed. It is an excellent institution, and cannot be passed over in silence. The number of brothers is not limited, and any person may be admitted that pleases. They are divided into three classes. The first are called Capi di Guardia, and are those who have been longest in the service : they are no longer obliged to accompany the sick ; but when pre- sent, order and direct the rest. The second are tlie Giornanti ; each of these has 197 has one day in the week fixed for his attendance, and on the other days is at liberty to attend or not, as he thinks fit. The third are the Volunteers : these are alj\fays at liberty; but, if they do not sometimes attend, are struck off the list. Regulated in this manner, a sufficient number of Brothers are present at every summons. If the Volunteers fail, those of the Giornanti, Avhose turn it is, are themselves sufficient to answer every purpose. The Capi di Guardia being numerous, one is always ready to take the command: he goes before: he is the first to enter the house of the sick person, and, accord- ing to the circumstances, gives his orders; the others upon this occasion, as well as upon the march, observing the most profound silence. The key of the bandages, restoratives, and that no such Pope ever existed. The Pul- pit, by NiccoLO Pis AN o, is better executed than that of Pisa. The Pictures are none of them extraordinary : the iVladonna was painted, they tell you, by Saint Luke. The Siennese having invoked the aid of this Madonna when hard pressed by the Florentines in the year 1260, and gaining a complete victory, generously gave their persons and their city to her for ever. The Paintings in the Library are by P:nto- mccio; the designs by Raphael. The an- tique group of the Graces, though mutilated, has been much admired. The right hand of Saint John, a valuable relic, is safely locked up in this church, under three keys, in the keeping of three different persons, the Capitano del Popolo, the Archbishop, and the Rector. It is exposed to the populace every year, the first day after Pentecost : and is thus guarded lest the Florentines should run away with it, — they have already got one of his fingers. Siena contains several good pictures of the old Masters. Guido di Siena was the first painter at the restoration of the arts in Italy; CiM ABUE, the Florentine, was not born till near twenty years after, la the Dominican Convent :,'.. is 439 is the Madonna of Gu I DO, painted in 1221, and has the following voucher : Me Guido de Senis diebus pinxit Amoenis, Quern Christus lenis nullis velit agere poenis. A.D. MCCXXI. In the same church is the martyrdom of San DoMjNicANo, by CiMABUE. Obscrve the three Sybils at the Duomo Vecchio, painted on the wall by Baldassare Pehuzzi. They tell you the Grand Duke would have removed them to Florence if he could. , At San Francesco are several pictures by Cimabue, Calabresi, PiETRo Perugino, and Beccafumi. At San Ouirico, by Cassolani and Vanni, At the Agostiniani, by Pietro Perugino and So do mo. At Santa Maria in Provinciano, is a Madonna in stone. This, as far as I can find, is the Ma- donna a la mode, I asked my Conductor, if she performed greater miracles than the lady at the Duomo: he replied — " Uguale!" — I inquired no further. There are many other churches and convents, and three conservatorios for the education of young women ; one for the no- blesse, and two for the citizens. Enter the door of the Hospital for the sake of the view. On one side the ground is level, on the other is a precipice that will surprise you. This 440 This builcing may serve as a specimen of the strange inequality of ground on which Siena stands; and you may satisfy your curiosity without danger to your health, or prejudice to your feelings : should you fear infection, wet your nostrils with vinegar and camphor, or with that of the four thieves. This Hospital is ad- mirably placed, having a large square on one side, and an open country on the other. Men, women, and children are admitted ; all disor- ders, and all accidents, are treated : women in labor, and foundlings, have also apartments allotted to them. In the Chapel is a famous picture by the Chevalier Cong a. If you are not acquainted with the rules of perspective, the pillars will surprise you — «they become crooked as you approach them. Neither the Palace of the Grand Duke, nor of the Archbishop, contain any thing extraordi- nary. In the Palazzo della Signoria is a good picture by Luca Giordano; and several by Beccafumi and Sodomo, both Sienese. From the Tower you have an extensive view of the country, and from thence only can you form an idea of the City. The prisons are immediately under the Theatre — Is the music a prisoner thus hears an increase of punishment, or mitiga- tion of his sufferings ? At any rate, it is a very unnatural connexion. The Casino was for- merly 441 inerly a chnrch, — another connexion not less extraordinary. Tlie Piazza has the appearance of a great scollop shell, and has a wonderfully good effect when full of ptople. The water that the fountain supplies is of a bad quality, and supposed to occasion disorders in the blad- der ; on which account most of the houses have wells, and use rain water. Another fountain, called Fonte Blanda, is much celebrated : whe- ther this ancient fountain be that which Dante mentions in his Thirtieth Canto, or not ; whe- ther it should be written Fonte Blanda, or Fontc Eranda, is a matter of little consequence either to you or me, — take care how you taste of its stream, lest it give you a share of that extrava- gance of which the Sienese are so generally accused. Not far distant is the house of Socini, uncle and nephew, heads of a sect of Deists, who dis- pute the Divinity, and deny the mysteries of Christ. At the death of the present inha- bitant, that family will be extinct : — better would it be had it never existed. Another Siena Gentleman, a Monsignore (Bishop), has rendered himself famous by sen- timents directly opposite. He has just published a Treatise on Divine Grace, not very intelli- gible. I will mention a few of its tenets. This Gentleman begins by saying, — " It would 443 would not properly be a Grace if it were pre- ceded by Merit." He then tells us, " That without this Grace all are inevitably damned, though in every other respect they may be per- fect, and want only that to become Saints. " That Jesus Christ bestows this Grace on one, and refuses it to another ; nor can man, by any act of his, ever merit it, prevent it, augment it, or preserve it. ** That God, in bestowing this Grace, makes BO distinction, and often chuses the most wicked to give it to them. " That, except jn the Catholic Church, there is neither Grace nor Life. •* Thatlove of your Country, Parents, Friends; ybur Duty in every situation ; Equity, Justice, Benevolence, Temperance, Prudence, are no- thing without Grace. " That a good Character, Justice, Equity, Sin- cerity, Candour, Tenderness, Affection, Com- passion, arc of no use whatever to the person who has them, without the Grace of Jesus Christ; they not only are insufficient to save him, but may become causes of his damna- tion." The Bishop tells us, *' That the Deity, in or- der to certify the necessity of Grace, has not scrupled to sacrifice, for four thousand years, al- Tftost all the inhabitants of the earth, till the com- ing 443 ing of Jesus Christ." One might ask, what is become of Noah, Job, and other good men before the law ; and of Moses, David, and other good men after it ? If you believe the Jansenists, you can do no- thing to save yourself. — Not only can do no good action, but cannot even form the wish to do it ; but they give you this comfort, that, if one of the Elect, you cannot be damned. That he ^ho does not fear God, nor love his neighbour, if it pleases God to give him one of these strong Graces, all his wickedness shall not be sufficient to prevent their good effects. He may become a sinner, but cannot remain so till death, because he is of the Elect. Far be it from me to dispute the Omnipotency of the Creator ; but I am astonished at the Doctrine of the Bishop, who is thus a Comforter of Sinners, and Encourager to Sin! LET* 444 LETTER XLVI. 'TnHE Lizza is a pleasant walk, planted with "*• trees, where every evening in summer, a great number of contented people assemble, chiefly in pairs, to enjoy a freshness of air un- known in any other part of Italy. At the en- trance of the Fortezza you read the following inscription : A. CosiMo. Mediceo. ad. imperii. Securitatem. fundatam. A.CIO.IO.LXI. Petrus. Leopoldus. Aust. Spectata. Senensium. fide. ad. Delicias. vertit. A.CIO.IOCC.LXXVIII. Sinenses, ben. ociamini et plaudite. The inscription is a kind one, and, taken lite- rally, does not deserve an ill-natured comment. Pallone, a favorite game of the Italians, is play- ed every evening under the walls of the fortress. The 445 The exercise is violent, and very unequally dis- tributed. This game affords but little amuse- ment to the lookers on, unless it be excellently played* I fancy it to be the same game that was in use in ancient Rome. In one of the Casemates are kept tame rabbits. I had fre- quently looked down on them in my walks, and one day, seeing their backs without any cover- ing, I concluded dry meat had given them the mange ; upon inquiry, I find they pluck them every two months, and make gloves and stock- ings of the fur. The Lizza and Fortezza thus united, make an extensive walk. — I long to give a fete to the Sienese on this delightful spot. The walks might be illuminated at a small expence ; a firework played off in the center j music dis- posed in different parts to keep up a continual harmony ; a coffee-house opened in the For- tezza to supply refreshments ; — and then an Epicure like you, with his mistress in one hand, and a nosegay in the other, might enjoy all his senses at once. The Manege is well situated on the Lizza. The number of horses is not in proportion to the number of scholars. — Cruel and mistaken economy ! — The scholars are dissatisfied ; and this generous and noble animal shortly becomes a victim to his own spirit and docility. For want of other exercise, I ride constantly in 446 in the Manege. — You who are scampering over hedges and ditches, will hold this amusement cheap ; but, my good Sir, I have no other. Let me then make the most of it, and for once en- treat you to spare your wonted severities on an art that in every country in Europe, except our own, is in high estimation. I agree with you, that a dressed horse requires a skilful person to manage him : he is used to a weight that he bears less unwillingly, owing to its firmness : he is also accustomed to particular aids, to wh:ch he has learned a ready obedience. Put a man on his back whose body has not acquired the equi- librium of the manege seat ; let him bend him one way, when he means he should go the other; let the aid of his leg be in opposition to that of his hand j and I make no doubt the sagacious animal will resist, and endeavour to avail himself of the unsteadiness and unskilfulness of his rider, I also agree with you, that a woman's horse may easily be taught too much, and may acquire some tricks and gentilesses in the Manege that he had better be without. If he be bitted, and taught to canter on the right leg only, it is as much as is necessary; he will then be light in hand, and, having been worked on a small circle, will be more obedient, have his haunches more under him, and be less liable to stumble than another horse. % It 447 It is also in the Manege that horses are best taught to stand fire ; to bear the beat of drums ; display of colours. Sec, ; without which they are useless to military men, and sometimes danger- ous to other^. You may have seen, perhaps, these curious lines : "■ Les chevaiix la plus part sont fougueux lorsque oil tire, L'un saute, Tautre rue ; et, ce qu' est bien pire, II Jette quelque fois a terre un Cavalier." Besides the advantages already mentioned, do you reckon as nothing the exercise you may taka in all weathers. Health and long life depend, I believe, on regularity. The fatigue of to-day does not make amends for the indolence of yes- terday. It is constant. ^nd regular exercise that preserves the machine from injury, and enables it to perform with ease its separate functions, till all its parts decay gradually together. I have known many Ecuyers all heakhy and long lived. Youknovy Sir Sydney Meadows; that Gentle- man, if I am rightly informed, was born in the year One, and I know not how you will account for the extraordinary vigour he at present en- joys, if not by the regular exercise he has con- stantly taken. Having said thus much, candour obliges me to confess, that a perfect Manege Horse is only fit for the Manege ; even the supple- 448 suppleness and agility he acquires there, render him dangerous out of it. I had occasion to put my servant the other day on a horse he was no longer able to ride; he assured me the Ma- nege had spoiled him ; and that he walked on his hind legs like a dancing bear. The Corso is out of the Porta Cormolia. It is usual to return to the Lizza, where some get out and walk. — You who, on a windy day, I have often seen, with a curioils and eager eye, take the exact dimensions of a woman's foot, will probably not find one to admire here.— In my reckoning it is of little consequence, since, if a beauty, it is seldom seen ; and if a defect, is easily concealed. The Italians, at any rate, have one advantage over the Chinese, which you will allow makes them some amends ; — they can walk: and no women in Italy make better use of their legs than the women of Siena; they consequently look healthier and handsomer than in other places. Beauty however here, as well as elsewhere, is most conspicuous in the people of middle rank, who, living between the ex- tremes of want and luxury, fatigue and indo- lence, lead the kind of life best adapted to our natures, and most conducive to health and come- liness. Paul Giovio tells us, that in his time the Siena women were the handsomest in Italy. Though I disregard a little foot, for the reasons 449 reasons I have just given, I know no country where a pretty hand is so necessary as in Italy : a well-bred Italian, when he enters or leaves a room, seldom fails to kiss the hand of the lady he visits. Mrs. has a beautiful hand, and little foot ; one of her admirers has just told me, there is no part of a woman he likes so well : — of such sentiments one cannot be jealous ; and I hope, if ever he is fool enough to tell her so, that she will requite him with a slap in the face, and a kick in the breech. Situated dm we are at Siena, on a high mountain, superior to most of those which surround it, it is curious to think that the height of Turin is little inferior. La Lande makes only twenty toises difference between the second floor of the Hotel d'Angleterre at Turin, and that of the Three Kings at Siena. But you descend from the Alps to the one, and on every side ascend to the other. The best inns are the Sun and the Three Kings. None are open after ten o'clock at night, except to Travellers, nor is it permitted the Sienese to be hungry after that hour. Those who stay any time at Siena take lodgings. A coach costs ten pauls a day, hcona mano in- cluded ; you cannot have one for the evening only as at Pisa. Chairs are to be had, but men generally walk on foot. VOL. I. G G Hav- 450 Having praised tlie milk and butter of Pisa, it may be necessary to acquaint an Englishman that Siena is very ill supplied v^^ith both. I am indifferent about the latter : since it is bad, I conclude we shall eat less, and consequendy be healthier. I have no objection to a piece of butter in warm water as an emedc, but nothing, I think, could induce me to eat half the quantity you do every morning for your breakfast: it would make me either as sick as a dog, or as fat as a pig. A Lady of this town. La Signora — — , is ordered to drink asses milk, and, being too weak to take any physic, diey have physiced the ass. END OF THE FIRST VOLUME. JS^-BI ^y S*'' ft ^ :^<< ■y,'