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Another day wasted in the empty ceremony of sending cards, and this
weary work added to the weariness from the Opera, and sad news from
family friends at home made the day a heavy one.
Turin papers are full of discussions as to what will be done and will
not be done about the Ministry. Parliament met again to-day after a
recess and found the Ministry still incomplete. Ricasoli will not give
up the Foreign portfolio for fear that a tool of France may take his
place. Nor will he have a Minister of the Interior who will not work
with him. He will probably be broken down, though it is understood that
he says he will never leave his post till his king and his country
intimate a wish to have him do so.
For myself a very quiet day, but Mr Marsh was obliged to go out, and
Carrie too had to spend an hour at the Benedettiâs. These Saturday
receptions relieve me from Sunday visits at least, though some Sunday
visiting must be done, it being the only day on which many of the most
prominent persons in society receive. I cannot understand how rational
people live without one day in the week wherein to feed their own
interior life.
Today another vote has been taken in a sort of Parliamentary caucus,
which proves that the majority are determined to sustain the Ministry.
So Ricasoli has triumphed once more. With his straitforward, unyielding
policy, courting no favors, regardless of reproaches, he proves a hard
subject to uproot. If he can but have time he will do much towards stren
strengthening the new government.
Prince Oscar of Sweeden, grandson of Bernadotte, honored the Teatro
dâAngennes with his presence this evening. We had no idea that he was to
he there, but went in ourselves to hear the famous Scriveneck [Scriwaneck]. Presently several gentlemen entered the
stage-box just opposite our own, one of whom immediately fixed our
attention. He did not strike us as handsome, but no one could fail to
perceive that he was a person of distinction. His Titianesque head has
all the characteristics of the southern races. It was not till we
noticed who attended him however that the thought of the newly-arrived
prince flashed upon us. General Della Rocca, Count Nigra, Marquis de
Breme and a large number of the principal men of the Court entered and
left the box from time to time. The Duchess and her ladies were also
present but on our side so that we could not see them. Mme. Scriveneck
was admirable as the little Duke de Richelieu, and the prince clapped
her enthusiastically.
A most philosophical remark of by Mr Marsh this morning must not be
unrecorded. Apropos of our good Alexanderâs obstinately refusing to
light up in the evening till guests actually began to arrive, he says,
âNo man is ever âmaster in his own houseâ unless he is a bruteâ
Mr Solvyns, the new minister from Belgium spent an hour with us after
church this morning - a man of sense and talent and thoroughly
acquainted with America & her institutions. If his wife is like him
they will indeed be an acquisition. Though he has been here but three or
four days the the social revolt against France was well known to
him.
The grand court ball passed off very brilliantly tonight. Everybody
was there in their gayest and best. Perhaps no court in Europe now
offers so much of ancient etiquette, so much of real stately aristocracy
as that of Turin. Many persons who were present declare that most
European courts have altogether a parvenu air when compared with this.
The king himself certainly is no stickler for etiquette, but the Duchess
magnifies her office and she is well sustained by the queenly dames of
Piedmont. Prince Oscar looked well and danced a great deal. The Comtess
St Germano made a truly Oriental display of diamonds, eclipsing even the
Duchess. Mr Marsh had considerable conversation with Ricasoli on the
settlement of the Trent difficulty. He expressed the liveliest
satisfaction that the quiet dignity with which our governemnt had borne
itself and the strongest hope that the great civil question would now be
put upon its true issue, in which case he predicted the most certain
success. He spoke of his own course which has lately resulted in so
complete a triumph over the opposition. âI consult my own conscience and
then relying upon the aid of Providence I leave consequences to Him who
overrules all things.â The king also talked very familiarly with Mr
Marsh for a quarter of an hour, asking very intelligent questions about
America, and expressing an earnest wish to obtain some of the animals
peculiar to it, as he could never hope to see them in their own wilds.
Mr Marsh assured him that it could easily be done, by putting an a [sic] efficient agent in communcation with the
Smithsonian Institute at Washington and promised that special interest
would be taken in the matter.
By our drive to-day we missed some very desirable visitors - among
them Gen. Menabrea - but we had a most glorious view of the mountains.
They were marvellously clear, and Monte Rosa was blindingly gorgeous
with sunlight & snow from from [sic] base to
crest. We could not help longing for home friends to enjoy the sight
with us. This evening we went into our own Angennes Theatre to hear Mme
Scriveneck. She was admirable.
The hurry The hurry of these short days, with almost incessant
interruptions by visitors, is certainly very wearying. The number of
notes that must be written for one reason or other, takes half the time
Carrie & I are able to get together - and all this work leaves
nothing to show for it - little I am afraid in any way to compensate for
it. As we were obliged to sit up rather late for half-promised visits
& Mr Marshâs eyes were too tired for reading, we concluded to see
Scriveneck again, and we were well repaid. She was wonderful. Most of
the pieces in which she appears are wr composed by herself and the
versatility of talent she shows in acting with such perfection parts so
dissimilar is really something astonishing. Soon after entering our box
we noticed a lady in the private royal box just opposite us with her
veil down and holding a black fan so as almost entirely to concel her
face. A moment after I caught a glimpse of a gentleman behind her who
kept himself entirely in the shade. As the lady turned her head a little
from time to time I managed to get a half look at this mysterious figure
and I soon became satisfied it was the king. He was however much
disguised, and I dared not raise my glass to be more sure. The lower
part of his face was much half covered but I think there was no
mistaking the forehead & eyes, though we could see but indistinctly.
Our conclusion was, that it was the king & the Countess
Moncaliere.
My visitors to-day represented every grade in the social hierarchy
except majesty itself. Prince, duchess, marquess marchioness, countess,
lord, baron - not a link failed. Diplomacy too was well represented, -
Mr Benedetti himself passed the evening with us, as well as some other
chefs. Every body is full of the female rebellion against France - every
body says every body is sorry but it must be confessed that every body
seems to think find some consolation in the fact that it furnishes a
change of topics of conversation, the remarkable winter, Prince Oscar,
the opera & the theatre beginning to get a little threadbare. My
interest in the Countess Castiglione increases with every new interview,
but as she can only come to me by day I have little [illegible] chance to see her except with at least
half a dozen others. The Marquise dâArvillars & her nice daughter
were among my most agreeable visitors - but the [illegible] sweet Countess Salino has impressed me
with a feeling of positive affection even only on a second interview.
Her cousin, the Countess Avogadro, though far more beautiful, and very
gentle & graceful besides, is less attractive to me. We expected
Pulszky to bring Mahlschott to us this evening but he failed for some
reason. The diplomatic gentlemen believe England is now looking for
another occasion to quarrel with the U.S. If this is so, and she
succeeds, the sun of her greatness has set forever - let her be sure of
that.
I had hoped for a quiet day but Mr Marsh was again obliged to go out
after church to pay visits where they receive only on Sundays. Carrie
had to go to Miss Benedetti who sees her little friends only on Sunday,
and I had to receive the Baron and Baroness Todros at home. Thank God, I
do not think the Christian Sunday was ever intended to be kept like the
Jewish Sabbath, but I long for one day in the week which I can devote to
lifeâs most serious interests, and the want of a Sunday is the greatest
want I feel here. Todros is a Jew of immense wealth - first merchant,
then banker - who and was a great favorite with Cavour who gave him his
title. His wife is an English Jewess, very pretty and I should think
very intelligent. They brought letters from Mr Dayton.
A new social-discord has risen, it seems. Those who know every thing
say that the Countess Menabrea and Madame Peruzzi had a difficulty at
the court ball as to their relative rank, and that the ladies went so
far as to bestow hard names upon each other, and that non intercourse
will hereafter be rigidly kept up between them. This must be very
unpleasant for the two ministers. The new complication however does not
seem to act as a back fire on the Benedetti trouble which thickens
rather than clears up, and who can say how vast the consequences of such
trivial misunderstandings may be to Italy and to the world. This thought
alone makes them worth recording. I had a visit to-day from a very
pretty woman whose mother was an English woman and who is herself
married to an Italian. She spoke of knowing an American lady at Nice who
had separated herself from her husband, and enquired if she was one of
my
The story of the difficulty between the Menabrea and the Peruzzi
turns out happily to be a mistake. Both the ladies it seems were
incensed at the poor Marchese de Breme for not placing them properly,
but neither found any fault with the other. The Todros who received the
title from Cavour is probably the father of the one mentioned on the
preceding page
acquaintances. I said no, and added that I had no great fancy for
knowing women who could not get on with their husbands - that though I
had no doubt it was impossible to live in peace with some men in
anything like peace, yet the presumption was against both parties till
the contrary was proved. This led to a long talk about unhappy matches,
I in my innocence supposing that with my young interlocutor the
honey-moon could hardly be over. After she left I was told to my dismay
that her husband, jealous as a tiger, had been walking up and down the
street keeping his eye on the entrance to our court during her whole
visit and joining her as soon as she came out. Gossip says that he locks
up her bonnets and all her visiting dresses whenever he is obliged to
leave his own house, and all this, so far as I can learn, without any
fault on the part of the wife except that she is pretty and that the
King has been heard to say so. I sometimes fancy there is wisdom in that
seemingly most absurd of all rules in fashionable life never to talk of
anything but the theatre, the opera, the last ball, its dresses
&c. &c.
Mr Marsh had some conversation with Ricasoli with reference to the
Sumter, which has recently been coaling at Cadiz, and then entering the
Mediterranean burned and sunk several vessels. The baron expressed his
suppri surprise that she should have been permitted to refit and take in
supplies in a Spanish port, and if he can control it she will find small
comfort on the Italian coast. We heard Mme Scriveneck this evening, but
she was less brilliant than usual.
The young wife and mother left her husband and family at midnight -
the masqueraders staid till six this morning. - - We had no visitors
to-day. The weather continues very mild, the thermometer not varying 10
deg. in as many days. The very little snow which has fallen on two
occasions wh disappeared almost as soon as it came and in a very odd
way. Hundreds of persons were at once employed in sweeping and
shovelling it up into heaps - then came others with carts, loaded them
with the snow, and then driving to certain large holes which were opened
in the middle of some of the principal streets, they there emptied the
contents into drains which conduct to the river. In this way the snow is
all disposed of in a few hours the mouths of the drains are closed, and
every appearance of winter has vanished. This season has not no doubt
been an uncommonly mild one. October with us often brings worse weather
than we have yet seen here.
The Roman question seems to have taken a step in advance. The late
demonstration in the old capital has called out anew the sympathy of the
rest of Italy, and the last note of the French emperor looks like coming
to some decision. Never man more puzzled his age than this same emperor.
If the English press had not stamped itself forever as the most
mendacious that ever disgraced a Christian country we could believe no
good of him. As it is, his acts are certainly of a far higher and les
more generous character outwardly, than those of the government across
the channel - his motives must be left to another tribunal.
England, it appears, has model modestly asked our government to allow
the troops with which she is filling Canada by way of menace to us, to
pass through the state of Maine! This reminded us at once of the letter
sent by the Arab to the French Commandant of a fortress in Algeria.
After the most violent espressions of denunciation and defiance
accompanied with a declaration that he would attack him at the head of
his tribe as soon as they should be well provided with arms &
ammunition - he closes his amiable missive with a request for a ch
cachmere shawl and a supply of powder and ball! The ready courtesy with
which this remarkable request has been granted by Mr Seward ought to
prove to that haughty selfish power that if her late disgraceful conduct
towards us has cured us of our love for her it has failed to inspire us
with fear. Let her take her troops where she likes - and we dare even
facilitate her folly. In case of war Canada would be ours in spite of
all the troops that England could command. From the south she might do
us much mischief, but she could not defend a narrow strip of land 2000
miles in length.
Drove out to-day to get a look at the mountains, so grand in this
beautiful sunlight & snow. The whole chain is covered almost to the
base, but on the plain there is still little snow. The ladies are
already beginning to drive out in open carriages as if spring were here.
Mrs Stanley gives me a curious history of the Marchesa Pallavicino which
I should be glad to have certified as Mrs S. had hardly dared vouch for
it herself. It is however believed here that this lady is the one spoken
of with so much admiration in the famous Picciola, - that the Marchese
married her almost as soon as he was released from prison. It is certain
at least that she is the Florence Nightingale of Italy. Mr Marsh was
much pleased on his first interview with her and I hope to learn more of
her when we have closer personal relations with her.
The notable Marquise de Montezemoli paid me a visit this morning. I
found her a fine looking woman even by day-light and her conversation,
which was in very good English, was agreeable and more than usually
intelligent. She ventured fearlessly beyond the the weather and the
theatre and the balls prospective & retrospective, and was really
quite refreshing. I am curious how she will wear. This evening we went
to the Teatro Regio for Nambuco [Nabucco] &
a new ballet. This first was tolerable the latter admirable. General
Menabrea spent a hour in our box - a man who could not fail to interest
even the stranger who should not know him as the heroic engineer at the
siege of Gaeta. In the course of our pleasant talk he said he said âI
want grace not force in a woman.â I smiled and thought - what I did not
say - âalas, poor woman! how large a portion of her mortal life demands
force or she sinks to a worthless thing, a wretched trifler or a
wretched slave.â This is the second time I have heard a truly great man
utters utter the same unconsciously selfish sentiment. They would have
woman cultivate exclusively those graces which charm them during the
brief hours in which she can represent as the French say - and then when
the days of darkness come - and God only knows how many there are for
her - what has she to fall back upon! Husband & children? perhaps
she has neither - or if she has, when the graces which were all she
possessed are gone, she is even to them only an object of pity, or at
best of affectionate pity.
Mr Marsh went to a chasse royale at Racconigi this morning and
returned at five in the evening, having bagged three or four pheasants
as a proof of his prowess on this days slaughter of the
Mr Marsh dined with the diplomatic corp at the ministry - the dinner
being in honor of Mr Solvyns. As usual here there was much blundering
about places - but
The beautiful Marchesa RorĂ , who received Mr Marsh the other day in
her bed-chamber when she was confined to her bed, asked to be presented
to me at at the ball. She is indeed a most lovely creature though she
can scarcely be less than forty. She is said to be of Spanish
extraction.
in the reestablishment of the Union and the final downfall of
Slavery. It is a pity an American diplomatist cannot write such things
to his government, but the certainty of seeing them in the Herald, if he
did, deters every man who would not deprive himself of all confidence on
the part of the government to which he is accreditted.
Did nothing to-day in the way of [illegible]
social duties, except that Mr M. paid Mme Benedetti a visit, and Gaetano
went to enquire when certain ladies received. The answer brought back in
one case was: âevery day from one to four - but not to-day - to-day she
sleeps!â Carrie went to pass an hour with the little Emilia de Lima and
was much amused by her & her less brother Arthur. The oldest boy,
Cesare, was engaged with his tutors - one, as C. was told, being his
âmaster of religionâ!
An overwhelmingly busy day for Mr Marsh who had despatches etc to
prepare, and who was interrupted by visitors - business visitors, every
quarter of an hour from early morning till bed-time. My own time was
spent about as much according to my own inclination & about as
profitably. Mr Dillon sent in an impertinent note which it required much
self-control not to answer as it deserved but we cannot afford to let
any personal provocation lead us into an open rupture with him - thus
having the disgrace of a civil war in the Legation as well as in our
unhappy country.
I had a long visit today from Madame Farina wife of the Senator. She
has interested herself much in the establishment of schools &c. and
has the honor of being the mother of the Normal Schools here, which are
already becoming important. She is a strikingly handsome woman though
she has married children. I should have supposed her a Jewess from the
peculiar type of face, but at any rate she she [sic] is a remarkably intelligent woman. Mr Marsh had
a long talk with Prince Lubomirsky who has just returned from Paris. He
speaks in the main well of the emperor but thinks him in a most
precarious position. One contrary wind might overthrow the vast but
frail fabric he has reared. He gives a characteristic anecdote of him.
Not long since some of the most distinguished of the Polish exiles had a
long interview with him. He listened to their grievances and their plans
for an hour and a half expressing now and then a kindly but
non-committal sentiment and when they had finished, he said, âMais,
Monsieurs, ne me brouillez pas trop tĂŽt avec la Russie.â In the evening
we went to hear what the Opinione calls the Profanazione of the Profeta.
Borghi-Mamo did her part well. The scenery was tolerable, but the rest
of the performance not brilliant
A thick snow-storm this morning and if I were any where but in Turin
I should not have expected visits, but the appetite for them here is not
seriously impaired I am told by bad weather. - Visitors came as usual
among them the Baronne de Hockschild [Hochschild] and husband - that is the social order
here - to introduce the Galli de La Loggia officier dâ - ordinance etc -
Madame de Bunsen came to bring Madamoiselle Arbesser gouvernante to the
Princesse Marguerite. This young lady came, as she said, at the
suggestion of Her Royal Highness who had desired her to make my
acquaintance and had added, according to Madamoiselle, many kind &
complimentary expressions. Madame de Robilant [illegible] too graciously came again. We also
received this morning a very gratifying little token of His Majestyâs
favor. Carrie went this evening with the Baronne de Hochschild to a
dance for children at Count Menabreaâs - but I could not learn in what
respect it differed from any ball.
After two hoursâ visiting with Mrs Stanley Mr M. went to dine with
Ricasoli. The dinner was in compliment to Kallergi [Kallergis]. Mr Marsh had Peruzzi on one hand and held
delectable discourse with him on drainage and engineering of all sorts
much to his satisfaction. He thinks Peruzziâs project of a line of
steamers from Ancona to Alexandria of the utmost importance to Italy and
expressed his earnest hope to the minister that no opposition would
prevent its being carried out.
The demonstrations which have just burst forth all on over Italy in
favor of an United Italy kingdom under V.E. with Rome for the capital,
and which were intended simply to give the lie to the late assertions of
the Holy Father that his children were all on his side as to his
Temporal power, have caused much regret even to many friends of the good
cause - I do not precisely make out on what grounds. It is as hard for
me to see why a people tired of of being priest-ridden should not say
so, as it is to understand why a nation in arms in the cause of Freedom
should not dare to lift her sacred banner. Let those who stand as
watchmen in both cases look to it that they do not bid the people be
silent when it is rather the hour for the sound of the trumpet and for
mighty shoutings. - Miss Coolidge of Boston spent a half hour with me on
her way, with other friends, to Florence. We have just learned that a
young officer introduced to us by Mrs Stanley, a Captain Oliviere, is a
great rouge rogue. I am sorry for this as we particularly liked our
âbould dragoonâ, but the evidence against him is irrisistible. Among
other feats characteristic of the chevalier dâindustrie he has
sececeeded [succeeded] by means of forged papers
in marrying under a false name a young girl of Nice whom he deserted at
once. It is unaccountable that he should be allowed to retain his place
in the army and even be invited to the ministerial balls, but it is said
that his thorough exposure is imminent. -
Our first visitor this morning was the identical bould dragoon
mentioned yesterday, and he brought a note, from the lady who had
informed us of the charges against him, saying there was reason to
believe that these charges referred to another person of the same name
from Calabria. This Capitano solemnly declares he was never in Nice in
his life. I trust he may turn out an honorable man after all. The famous
Kossuth came with his son to see us this morning. He is still a
noble-looking man, but [illegible] seems worn
and sad. He stays but a day or two in Turin. General Haug, our old
acquaintance in America in 47. as Capt. Haug of the Austrian army, spent
2 hours with me this morning - [Image] I should
have mentioned his most unexpected appearance on Saturday. We had some
reason to believe he had been shot for treason by the Austrians in â49,
and certainly had not thought to see him again. I was L not a little
surprised on his visit saturday that he made no enquiries for American
friends not even for those who were members of our family when he was in
Washington, but I supposed it was because visitors came in before he had
finished telling his own story. To-day however it was the same thing,
not the slightest allusion to the young ladies for whom he used to
profess such unbounded admiration - nor to any of the young men with
whom he was so intimate. At last, by way of experiment I said, when he
spoke of my having so many visitors, that I really did miss my sister
who used to be with me always on such occasions in Washington. âYou want
some one to support you then among so many strangersâ was his reply -
and he immediately turned the conversation He professes to have a wife,
two children and large possessions in Sleswick [Schleswig] and really looks as if he were in easy
circumstances. At the same time he says he has heard nothing Capt. Von
SchÀdthe since he left America, an odd circumstance since the latter is
always in Sleswick, and in a country hardly larger than a handkerchief
it is very difficult to see how he could have avoided him if his story
of the marriage etc is true. On the whole, though he never inspired us
with much confidence in America, he seems to me even more doubtful now.
He says he fought with Garibaldi in the siege of Rome in â49 went to
Constantinople afterwards - that it was an uncle of his who was shot -
etc. - in short a very romantic story if one were sure of its truth.
This evening we went to a most brilliant ball given by the Marchesa
Doria. All the noble beauty and bravery of Turin were there and if it
had been less crowded it would have been magnificent. The toilettes were
generally exquisite. The French Ministiro and family were not there of
course.
Mr Marsh dined at the Prussian Ministers where Baron Hockschildt
[Hochschild] gave them some charming music
Went this evening to the Benedettis, a pleasant dance but not so many
ladies as the last time. Madame B. is above praise as a kindly &
graceful hostess. I had a good deal of talk with several distinguished
persons among them Prince Lubomirsky & Count Arese. The Prince is
plain & unpretending in manner and easy & agreeable in
conversation. Count Arese is an uncommon man certainly, but he did not
inspire me with confidence I should take him for a person not in the
habit of regarding subjects from any high moral point of view, and in
politics, I fancy he is aristocratic enough to please the straitest of
that persuasion. A little circumstance which occurred while we were
talking together threw light, or seemed to me to throw light on the
temperament of man I was studying. Some person in the crowd about us
stepped on the Countâs foot - possibly on his corn. The offender turned
instantly and begged an imploring pardon. The Count bowed placidly, but
as the culprit turned away, his victim sent after him such a scorching
glance of wrath as I have never seen from any human eye before. It
passed as quick as lightning from the cloud and his calm bland smile was
on me as before, but I could not get over that look. I felt a strange
constraint during the rest of our talk and was not sorry when we were
interrupted. A very nice story is told to-day. It is said that Bombino
sent 8000 francs for the relief of the sufferers at Torre del Greco,
that
The beautiful Countess Rignon was presented to me to-night and the
young Countess Pollon - scarcely less lovely. Count Arese says to Mr
Marsh âHow can any man who has been in America call these women
beautiful? who h
that poor creatures refused to receive it on the ground that they
would not take it from their cruel oppressor. As soon as this fact was
known a lawyer from the neighborhood of Milan immediately sent from his
own purse to the inhabitants of Torre del Greco the sum they had refused
from the tyrant. The San Vitales have just sent their card - they are
the grandchildren of Marie Therese and spoken of with great praise.
Today we neither made nor received visits, and Mr Marsh found time
for church, and for reading to me one of good old Tom Fullerâs sermons
besides. It seemed a little like a Sunday in our once quiet New
England.
We went to the Ministerial ball to take poor Miss Roberts rather than
for any other reason. It was agreeable to me as my acquaintances spoiled
me as usual by kind attentions. If my health however continues to
improve for another six months as it has done during the last I shall
cease to have any claim to all these egards and must come down to the
level of mere ordinary beef-eating mortals for whom nobody cares. The
angular wiry premier expressed himself grateful for the opportunity to
serrer ma main, and I was more than ever struck with the resemblance,
physical, mental & moral, between him and our heroic Vermont
Puritan, Mr Worcester. Carutti is a noble fellow too. The Duchess &
suite, Prince Carignan etc were there - but few of the codini. Sella,
the great chemist, was presented to me. Baron Tecco brought in to-day
the medal mentioned before. It is three inches in diameter, apparently
of solid gold, with a head of Christ on one side and [an] inscription on the other which states this head
to be the facsimile of one cut in an emerald which, after having long
been in the possession of the Grand Turk, was finally sent to His
Holiness as a consideration for his being jailor to the briliant but
unfortunate Zezim. The late attempt on the life of La Vallette [Valette] in Rome, though little talked of in cautious
circles, seems likely to lead to some results.
Haug, General!, spent two hours with Mr Marsh greatly to the
hindrance of his work, but not a little to the excitement of his
curiosity about this riddle of a man. Strange enough are the tales he
tells of himself, of his extensive travels, his discoveries, his
collections, his intimacy with Ricasoli and other eminent men of all
creed & parties and nations. We must find out whether his air
aventuriere does him injustice or not. - Speaking of Lord Hubert de
Burgh to-day Mr Marsh says, âhe is a man of remarkably small stature
considering he is six hundred years old.â I asked for an explanation and
was asked in turn if I did not remember he was Chief Justice in the time
of King John. I must ask his lordship the next time I see him if he
still remembers the events of his youth. To-day I neither went out, nor
was disturbed at home. My friends wonder I can get on so a whole day
& evening without un peu de Distraction, as they call. I threaten Mr
M. with telling them that I find my husband distracting enough without
looking for causes of that nature away from home.
Saw only my quiet excellent friend Mrs Tottenham this morning She is
an admirable specimen of aristocratic breeding united with good sense
and the heart of a Christian. It is remarkable to find an English family
so closely allied to nobility possessing so much genuine liberality as
one finds in this (the Tottenham) family This evening we went to a ball
at the de Limas - very grand - there being nothing there but the purest
codini blood, except a few plebeians by birth but now in high positions
under the government. The dresses were beautiful, the hostess lovely and
amiable, and every body was as happy as is consistent with crowded
dancing, and the discussion of balls, masquerades, operas etc, the only
choice of employment allowed on such occasions. The great news of the
evening was the half smothered announcement that Madame Benedetti &
the Marchesa Doria had been presented to each other. Who was the master
spirit powerful enough to bring about such a consummation, or by what
means it was effected was not clearly explained, but time will show. So
the hatchet be buried in good faith it matters little for the rest.
The Barber of Seville took us to the Theatre Royal took this evening
in spite of great fatigue. It was admirably given but [both] the music and the action. Borghi-Mamo was
charming and the audience were in the best possible humor. Mr Benedetti
came twice to our box - once to bring his daughter who promises to be as
lovely as her mother. Mr Benedetti spoke with something very like
bitterness of the peculiarities of Turinese society and declared it
impossible for foreigners to have any relations with them except of the
most formal kind. I was sorry he should have spoken with so much freedom
as a Piedmontese officer was with us at the same and evidently did not
relish the criticisms. It seems strange that a man so worldly-wise as
the French Minister should not perceive that this is not precisely the
way to establish friendly relations with a proud and sensitive race. Had
he been an Englishman he would not have surprised me, but I looked for
more dexterity and flexibility from him. I saw, for the first time this
winter in a public place, the Countess Ghiseliere, this evening. Though
she was always sitting the same marvellous grace marked every turn of
her head & every gesture. A gentleman said to me very significantly
âdo you know her husband?â I answered in the negative. âAn old man with
white hair & beard.â I asked no questions & no more was said. -
A painful rumor is in circulation about the death of one of the
Palasrem, which took place last week. He was at a masquerade at the
Scribe, where, after taking a glass of iced sherbet he felt himself
suddenly ill. Returning [illegible] home at
once, a doctor was called, but while the physician was examining his
pulse and seemed puzzled by the symptoms, the Marquise said, âOh bestia
che siete, lasciate mi, e fate venire un preta!â He died at four in the
morning. There is the more room to suspect foul play as these mask balls
seem to be chosen as favorable occasions for deeds devillish devilish.
Another strange tale has been told me to-day by way of defence of the
Marchesa Doria whose intimacy with young officers begins to excite more
than whispers among the enemy. It is said she has been privately married
to one of them and that the other officers about her are mutual friends
of herself & husband. Of course it is a mesalliance and kept secret
out of respect to her rank. Quien sabe!
Mr Marsh had a long and very free talk with Baron Ricasoli this
morning. A new & desperate effort is making to break him down. He
explained his policy to Mr Marsh with that manly directness that so
strongly characterizes him. âWe must have Rome & Venise [Venice],â he says, âbut we are not yet ready to take
either by force.â If France withdraws from Rome that question is settled
but as to Venice we are not yet strong enough to take it from Austria
without the help of France - and to take with her help reduces us to
dependency upon her. Give us a little more time and we can do it for
ourselves.â Mr Marsh asked him distinctly what he understood by âLibera
Chiesa in Libero Stato!â He replied, âThe entire freedom of all creeds,
with no interference on the part of the Government except to protect all
in their civil rights.â In a word he means just what we have with
us.
Gen. Haug made us another long visit this morning & brought many
curious & valable [valuable] medals &
other objects of interest recently collected by him. Among them a sword
of modern workmanship but in in [sic] imitation
of an old Byzantine weapon. It is very admirable and to be presented to
Garibaldi when he enters Venice or Rome. The Count & Countess
Miniscalchi
This letter has been pasted in. A pencilled annotation indicates
âBenedettiâ. âHotel Feder Turinâ is the
letterhead; the rest is handwritten.
The letter continues in a clipping on February 24.
HOTEL FEDER
TURIN
Dear Sir
Will You do me the favour
to hand these ancient coins
to Mrs Marsh. An old Italian
soldier begs of her to accept
them as the tribute of a grate-
full memory.
"Do'nt fight against Italy"
that Lady said to me years ago.
The enclosed pamphlet tells You,
that my services have been
much too highly appreciated -
yet I am thankfull to General
Roselli, that he acknowledges
the little I did, with so much
kindness.
I would wish to go
to the court ball to morrow
from the vicinity of Verona were my first visitors to-day. The Count
is very learned & the Countess very intelligent, and sympathizing
with her husbandâs tastes and labors. She is a Venetian, beautiful and
queenly. She says they live almost entirely in the country partly
because the Count can best work there & partly to keep out of the
way of the intolerable petty annoyances to which they are subjected in
the towns under the Austrian rule. The color came with a rush to her
cheek when she spoke of Venice and her hopes for it. Among new visitors
were the Marquis BoĂżl and the Countesses Castelmagno & Radicati but
[both] intelligent women and the first pretty.
The great topic of conversation among some of the ladies was the Fancy
Ball to be given on Friday by the Duchess de la Force at the Hotel
Feder. All Turin seems in a stir about it, and a grand Consulta was held
this afternoon at the Marchesa Doriaâs.
A lovely bright soft day worthy the April of the poets. The sun was
almost sorching and the difference between the air without &
within-doors was so great as to cause almost a chill when we came in
from a drive.
Another grand court-ball this evening to which I did not go of
course. It was, Mr Marsh says, very fine and not crowded, as the armory
was thrown open. This time Madame Benedetti was treated as her position
and her merits deserve - she was in her place in the danse dâhonneur,
and better still, the king himself, taking advantage of a pause in the
dance, approached her partner, Gen. dâAngrogna, and
This letter has been pasted in. It is the continuation of the letter in the clipping on February 22.
evening. A friend of mine,
who went to enquire about
the invitation thikets [tickets], informs
me that the list for private
invitations has been closed, and
that to morrow morning
up to ten o'clock applications
of the Legations would be atten-
ded.
If my services as an
acting Consul for the U.S.
entitle me to such a favor,
I leave it to Your judgement -
anyhow I would not like to
give You any trouble.
My feruion and passeport
is herewith enclosed.
Yours very respectfully
23. February 62
Dear Sir
Yours truly
Haug
His Excellency the
U.S. plenipotentiary
Minister
G. P. Marsh Esquire
requested him to present the lady to him. Madame B. was taken by
surprise, knowing that such a proceeding on the part of the present king
was quite unprecedented, but she performed her part very gracefully.
After two or three minutes conversation the dancing recommenced, the
king bowed and Gen dâAngrogno [dâAngrogna]
whirled away his partner. This was right royally done by the âre
galantuomo, and shows that his sense of justice is strong enough even to
overcome his natural shrinking from certain social observances. What his
[illegible] gentle Turinese subjects will say to
this remains to be heard. I can fancy that even Diplomacy itself may
feel a twinge in one of its fair members - but a person must be very
egoiste to envy so unassuming, sweet a creature as Madame Benedetti,
especially after all the annoying things that have happened to her
here.
The DâAddas gave a beautiful ball to-night, but too crowded. To me it
was more agreeable than such places usually are. It was not a mere
Piedmontese pack, but many persons connected with the government, and
many from other towns in Italy were there. Count Nigra presented to me
his sister-in-law, the beautiful Madame Nigra, who, common fame says,
might claim to stand in a still closer relation to him. She is one of
the prettiest women in Turin, and has an of excellent character so far
as I know. We also made the acquaintance of the Comtesse Alfieri, the
neice of Cavour - a name that still is always followed here by a sigh -
and found her much as she had been discribed to us, plain &
ungraceful, but not positively repulsive. Her diamonds were blinding.
The Countess St Germain was, as she always is, superb. She would become
a throne. Our home news from the Burnside expedition cheers our hearts
this week - but many others must ache even while they rejoice.
Gen. Haug - who really seems more and more genuine the more we see of
him, was with me to-day when Baron Plana came in to pay me a visit. The
conversation turned on Italian politics and the old man eloquent was
unable to let the occasion slip without giving the Holy Father a touch
en passant. He says however that though the pope is no believer in
Christianity, he still thinks he should be left in his place at Rome as
head of the Church. As to Temporal power he should have none, but even
with only the power that necessarily belongs to his spiritual office, he
thinks the king of Italy could not live in the same city with him, and
he there therefore argues against the talked-of change of seat of
Government. âLet the Pope then go to Jerusalem!â said Haug. âMais, il ne
croirait pas meme Ă Jerusalem!â - But he wouldnât believe even in
Jerusalem! said the Baron, with a chuckle, and when he saw we all
relished his humor, he shook my hand with the delight of a child. He was
amused with some of Gen. Haugâs papal statistics, among which were
these. âThere have been from two hundred & fifty to three hundred
popes - out of these, 65 have been canonized, and out of these sixty
five, sixty two lived before the temporal power of the popes was
established. If then, sixty five popes without temporal power could
furnish sixty two saints, and two hundred with it, could only furnish
three, the logical deduction was that temporal power was not
conducive
I omitted to give Baron Planaâs statement of the experience of a
trustworthy friend of his. âI have lived at Romeâ, said this gentleman,
âthrough a long lifetime. I have known intimately 86 Cardinals and I
know positively that out of these 86 only 4 believed in the truth of
Christianity.â
to the sanctity of popes!â Our venerable friend said he came to see
us a few days ago, âbut,â added he with a mischievous twinkle of the
eye, âI forgot you were superstitious Protestants and came on Sunday - I
did not see you of course.â I assured him I did not think it would be a
sin to see him even of a sunday - and besides we might do something
towards bringing him to the truth! He left us, full of life and
cheerfulness. Madame Monnet came in before he went away. She is a rare
women [sic] intellectually, and impresses me
agreeably every way. The rumor now is that Ricasoli is firm in his seat
again. Immense preparations are making in Turin for the reception of the
king next week. Most of the Diplomatic corps are going there. While Mr
Marsh was making a visit to Madame de Lima this morning a gentleman
present related the following anecdote: He was appointed one of a
committee to go out with several ladies on a begging tour for the
benefit of the poor. It was settled that they should go to every
boarding house - public and private, from the largest hotel to the most
modest private lodginghouse and carry their plate from guest to guest at
the hour when they were at table. The gentleman says âWe went to some
startling looking places and encountered some rough looking specimens of
humanity. The ladies however who carried around the plate went through
with what they had undertaken without flinching. At last one of them
approached what we should call a teamster in New England - a very coarse
looking man in a blouse and with a pipe in his mouth. She stated her
object and extended her
A friend has just pronounced the anecdote of the quĂȘteuse to be a Joe
Miller, to be found in some of the memoirs of Louis fourteenth. It is
difficult to catch Mr Marsh in this way and I shall be rather amused if
for once in his life he has failed to recognize stolen property.
plate. The man took his pipe from his mouth, looked at her fiercely
and rudely and then said with a harsh voice as he handed her a five
franc piece. âPour vos beaux yeux la quĂȘteuse!â âMerciâ said the lady,
taking the money, and adding as quick as thought âet maintenant pour les
pauvres,â and she extended the plate again. Without a moments hesitation
the man took from his pocket a napoleon and made this second offering
with a better grace than the first.
I was not well enough to see visitors today and so missed Madame de
Bunsen whom I wished to see. Mr Marsh paid a few visits and persists in
liking the Piedmontese ladies notwithstanding the general complaint of
foreigners.
I was obliged to give up my weekely reception today, feeling quite
unable to dress and sit up so long. Mr Marsh however saw two gentlemen
from Terre-Haute, acquaintances of Alexander, and though I missed them
myself I hope to see them at dinner on Monday.
The Ministry is announced as dissolved. We are pained to learn this,
and our fears for Italy will be very great if Ratazzi is really placed
at the helm of state in such threatening times as these. The news from
Rome for some days has been of a character to excite uneasiness - and
who shall wonder if this long suffering, patient people explode at last.
The fall of the Ministry will not be likely to have a soothing effect
upon that people. The masking this afternoon was gay but in every
respect quiet and orderly. Every piazza and every street was filled to
overflowing, but there were no noisy brawls, no signs of drunkenness.
There was a Coronation of Petrarch in the Piazza Castello, but we did
not see it. The day was a balmy as May, and we had no fires in the house
except at morning and evening.
Mr Cook and Mr Freeman dined with us today, and we were glad to find
Americans so all right in their general impressions from what they had
seen abroad, but more especially in their home politics. They are men of
a class very difficult to be met with in Europe - men evidently born in
humble life, but by no means lacking in refinment, with much knowledge
of the world and an amount of reading almost never found in the Old
World except among mere scholars. We did not go out to look after the
Carnival which is still in full tide today.
Mr Marsh went quite early this morning to see that great power of his
age - Garibaldi, who came to town yesterday. It is said Ricasoli sent
for him as soon as he had resigned, in order to talk over the affairs of
Italy with him and to urge upon him the necessity of restraining his
partisans from committing any imprudence. Mr Marsh - who I fancy had
made up his mind to see a little of the dramatic - was struck by the
quiet, genuine dignity of this great man. There was nothing of over
self-consciousness about him He was in the well known red shirt with a
becoming cap, and a military cloak over his shoulders. He dismissed the
crowd about him in order to talk with Mr Marsh alone. He expressed the
deepest interest in the American struggle and declared that nothing but
the reasons already given could have prevented him from taking part in
it. Mr Marsh stayed with him but a short time as there were so many
eagerly waiting their turn. He leaves town at once, but as he thinks of
spending a part of the summer in Genoa I hope we may see more of him.
The Carnival was very lively all day - the more so from its being lawful
to throw coriandoli - the confetti of Rome - in most of the principle
streets. There was nothing corresponding to the moccoli of Rome in the
evening, but at ten oâclock an imposing procession headed by two
stupendous cars passed through the great streets and squares. In one of
these cars, elevated to a very great hight [sic]
stood a giant figure called the carnevale. He was surrounded by
fantastic figures, impish and fiendish, that would defy all description,
all and the whole was illuminated by countless colored lights. The other
car, scarcely less brilliant contained the musicians. - then came a
processions of several hundred persons, all carrying chinese lanterns.
About midnight they reached the Piazza Castello, where an immense pile
was erected. The plethoric carnevale was lifted to the top of this pile,
- a multitude of fireworks were played off, and in a few minutes, the
whole mass was enveloped in flames, the tens of thousands of spectators
raising shout upon shout as the monster was consumed. The masked balls,
etc were kept up till morning, but there were no disturbances of any
kind.
Every thing quiet today except a murmur of dissatisfaction at the new
Ministry. It has not been well received in most of the large cities of
Italy. But this people have shown such a noble spirit thus far that we
have good reason to hope they will wait with patience before condemning
the new Ministry. As to Ricasoli, there is no danger that any personal
consideration will make him forget for a moment the best interests of
his country. He will support the ministry as far as he can do so
conscienciously.
Though I have made it a rule to say little in this journal of
American affairs, the news for a day or two past calls at least for an
expression of thanksgiving. Italian matters are full of uncertainty. One
says the overthrow of Ricasoli is a mere palace intrigue, at the bottom
of which is the witch of Montcaliere, others say she has been the tool
in the hands of the Emperor, others still that it has been brought about
by the settled conviction of the liberal party that more active measures
must be adopted and that the king has acted calmly on the advice of the
wisest counsellers within his reach. Alas! if the truth is so difficult
to find even here with plenty of persons ready to swear that they know
positively all about it, through their own eyes and ears, how does
posterity ever find out the real facts in such cases.
Today the new Ministry was expected to announce its programme and the
street in front of the Chambers was quite thronged. Every thing
continued quiet. Ratazziâs address was very good but dealt only in
generals. Ricasoli made a short speech which was received with much
applause. Mrs Tottenham gave me a curious anecdote of a Piedmontese
family in Turin. San Margarita I think is the name. It seems they are
codinissimi, and have always held themselves somewhat aloof even from
most of the P. nobility. Since the day when royalty itself distributed
the loges boxes at the Teatro Regio they have ceased to be seen at the
theatre. For years they have lived in almost more than monkish
seclusion. This winter a son of the house married - the lady insisted on
going to the Royal Theatre - the family were scandalized - the willful
bride had her way, and as she carried her husband in triumph through the
streets of Turin at nine oâclock in the evening the happy man exclaimed
burst into exclamations at the sight of the lighted streets which he
beheld for the first time in his life! I have just asked a native of
Lombardy who has long lived in Turin if such a story could be true. He
says âOf course I cannot vouch for this case, but I assure you it may
very well be true. Madame de BoĂżl, who has just returned from Paris,
gives an amusing account of a conversation of hers with an old friend of
the Fauburg St Germain.âHow do you manage about churchgoing said the
curious Parisian. âWhy I go either in my carriage or on foot as I likeâ
answered the Marquise BoĂżl. âBut,â says her friend, âhow do you get into
the church?â Further explanations followed from which it appeared that
the enlightened Frenchwoman believed that all the churches in Italy had
been closed by the Garibaldians, and that no priest every dared appear
in the streets.
TBD
There are 4 pages of clippings relating to the Carnevale in Turin,
including the schedule and rules for coriandoli (~ confetti).
What Negroes can Do. -- Mrs. Margaret Stanley,
widow of the late Bias Stanley, died this week, leav-
ing her property for benevolent purposes. Her hus-
band died a few years ago, leaving two houses in
College street and one in Dwight street, the income
of the same, after the death of his widow, to be ap-
plied for the support of the Gospel, and for educa-
ational purposes among the colored people of New
Haven. Henry White, John G. North, and Atwater
Treat are the Trustees to manage and appropriate
the same. Mr. and Mrs. Stanley were slaves until
they were forty years of age, and upon obtaining their
freedom began a life of industry and economy, which
in the progress of their lives enabled them to obtain
a good living and to amass a little fortune, exceeding
$6,000. The were both members of the Temple-
street Congregational church, and died in the full
hope of a blessed inheritance above. -- New Haven
Journal
Baron Ricasoli left office (writes our Turin
correspondent) precisely as Sergeant Bothwell
departed this life -- "always astride his fore-
fathers." The King spoke with great benig-
nity at parting, and shook hands with him,
saying that "he was sure they would always
be friends." "My friendship for your Ma-
jesty," answered the Medieval Baron, "will
always increase in proportion to your exer-
tions for the accomplishment of the great
Italian redemption." -- (Times.)
THE "SATURDAY REVIEW" AND ITS CONTRIBUTORS.
The chief of the political department -- the gentle-
man who does the "heavy business" on the South-
ampton-street stage -- is Mr. G. S. Venables of Mitre
court. Temple, and then follow the lesser Joves, such
as Mr. Joseph Arnold, Rev. Charles Kingslake, Mr. G.
H. Lewes, Mr. Newmarch, (secretary of the Globe
Assurance office,) Mr. Main, 9reader at the Middle
Temple,) Professors Owen and Playfair, Mr. Goldwin
Smith, Mr. Beresford Hope, (the proprietor of the
journal,) Rev. W. Scott of Christ's church, Hoxton,
M. J. Pitt Taylor, (the County Court Judge,) Mr. W.
B. Donne, Mr. Jones Rymer, Mr. C.J. Sanders, Lord
Robert Clinton,, (very casual,) Mr. Grant Duff, (do.,)
Mr. E. A. Freeman, and Mr. Frazer, late Paris cor-
respondent of a well-known and once powerful jour-
nal. Among the other contributors deep in the arcana
of the zymotic process constantly going on in South-
ampton-street are the following: Mrs. Bennet, (sister
of our most sagacious statesman,) Miss Boyce, Lady
Hanover, (formerly Lany Benjamin Hall,) the com-
piler of the journal and correspondence of Mrs. Delany,
the wife of the Dean of Down; Miss Jane Williams,
(another gifted native of the Palatine,) Miss C. Ogle
of Newcastle, Mr. F. Galton, Mr. A. Grant, Mr. W. V.
Harcourt, Mr. J. M. Hayman, Mr. G. W. Hemming,
Mr. I. C. Mansfield, Mr. Stephens, and a few others off
minor note. The majority of the male contributors
are barristers, of whom perhaps it may be said that
their friends gave them nothing to do, and they
did it!
I should have mentioned among my visitors yesterday Sam. Cooper &
wife from America. They give glowing accounts of the spirit shown at
Rome - but I must confess the Italian horizon does not look very fair to
me just now. Some of the prefects of the leading cities for have already
resigned since Ratazzi came in and more are likely to do so. Count
dâAdda, I am sorry to say, is among the first. - We had a charming drive
to-day, first a turn in the Via PĂł, where there was a gala corso, and
then elsewhere - the weather most delightful. The Marchesa Doria was
brilliant in equipage & toilette so were many others.
We stole an hour for another drive today - everything looks so bright
and springlike. Good news continues to come in from America. Here the
clouds do not disperse. The meeting at Genoa yesterday excites much
uneasiness. (For account see newspapers preserved.) Garibaldi has boldly
endorsed our friend Haug at any rate.
Our whole time, now is taken up with the preparation of Mr Marshâs
second Series of Lectures, for the press. I am almost afraid Mr Marsh
cannot hold out to work another month in this way. I managed to get him
out though, for an hour or two every day either for walk or drive. Today
we drove to the cemetery - a strange quaint looking place to which I
intend to go some day and make notes for an hour. The grave of Silvio
Pellico awakened some very touching memories. As we only went into the
old cemetery we did not see the resting place of the lamented
Cavour.
Today we drove to Moncalieri. The palace is large and stands almost
on the extremity of the Collina which here sinks abruptly into the
plain. The village is nestled at the foot of the palace and I longed to
get out for a stroll through its odd looking little streets.
Vendredi
My dear Mrs. Marsh
Having been particularly
pleased to hear you take
interest in German litterature, I
venture to send you an historical
romance which is considered one
of the best written at present.
The author is a Lady, the wife
of the but shortly deceased historian
"Theodor Mundt." The description
of the Austrian Court, a century
[*Lowenthal Notes*]
ago could perfectly be applied
to the Italian one, I am living
at; the intrigues of the Jesuits
which gave so much pain to
poor Emperor Joseph and inflicted
so many trials on him are
extremely well described and his
torical. I think it will rather
interest you. Many thanks, for
the book of poetry, I merely read
a few lines yet, and like it very
much. I will gladly avail myself
of your permission to call on you
any day, your charming conversation
and most superior intellect and
gentle one certainly - but still it does rain. We were able to do a
good long dayâs work on the Lectures.
This morning I received from Miss Arbesser the note on the preceding
page - I am amazed at the imprudence of this young person, and should
like to caution her a little, if I knew how to do so without seeming to
play the mentor, and so perhaps drive her to trust some one who might be
cruel enough to betray her. Mr Marsh dined to-day with Ratazzi in
company with the other Cabinet Ministers and the Dip. Corps. It is the
fĂȘte of the king & prince Humbert. American news of the best -
Visitors few but all acquaintances, with many of whom I begin to feel
myself quite familiar. To my great satisfaction General Menabrea, by
repeating the remark he made to me some weeks since at the Opera, gave
me an oportunity to say a few words on the other side of the question.
The graces in women and a devotion to her family duties were all that
were required to her perfection. âBut,â I said, âwhat is there left for
us if nature has not gifted us with graces, if we have no family to
which to devote ourselves or if ill health deprives us for long years of
all social enjoyments and of the strength necessary to attend to
household matters? with thousands of women one or more of the
suppositions are stern facts. You would deny us all those mental
rescources with which wide knowledge furnishes you - you would leave us
to count our beads under such circumstances, but you would leave us
nothing else.â I then told him that I thought nature had made wide
differences between men and women and that it should be [illegible] the object of education to bring them
nearer together rather than to increase these differences, and finished
my speech by a quotation from St. Cyrilâs Clementâs advice to his clergy
âteach your men to be modest, your women to be brave. The General seemed
much amused and quite inclined to pursue the discussion, but we were
interrupted by the coming in of a new set of visitors. Mr de Bunsen gave
me some curious details of his Turinese experiences. Nobody quite dared
to talk politics, but it seems to be generally understood that the
disaffected prefects are all to come back.
Having a bad headache all day I was not able to see Count Sauli who
is one of the literary antiquities of Turin, and who kissed my hand most
gallantly at the DâAddaâs the other evening. Mr Marsh drew him out a
little on the subject of politics knowing that he was considered a
codino. The old man said he had a dread of revolutions - a natural
feeling for any one, but more especially for one of his age - but when
he touched upon the Papacy he spoke in no measured terms of its abuses -
and of Guizotâs late defence of the th temporal power of the Pope - he
said, âCâest le scandale de notre temps.â
Madame de Lima brought her two lovely boys to us this morning - the
one 14 - the other 5 years old. The oldest speaks five languages
fluently - not to name the Piedmontese patois which he uses like a
native. The little fellow, who was born in England, prides himself on
being an Englishman.
Mr Powers came in to announce the arrival of himself, wife &
daughter with his son-in-law that is to be to-morrow. We were delighted
to see him - noble, honest soul that he is. I never see talk with him
without feeling that circumstances only have prevented him from doing
far greater things than he has done - I might say greater than any man
of his age has done in his profession branch of art.
The bridal party came to us as soon as the ceremony was over at the
British Legation. Lulie looked as sweet and calm as possible, the
bridegroom, Mr Ibbotson, was less composed, though we liked his
appearance extremely, and the parentsâ hearts are very full. Every thing
went off as well as could be wished, and after a glass of wine the young
people set of out for Milan - the father & mother remained to dine
pass the day & dine with us. We had a âgood long day curseâ at the
Secessionists.
Mr & Mrs Powers left for home this morning in a heavy rain.
Strange that out of the five days of rain in eleven months they should
have had three of them in which to marry their daughter & see
Turin.
A quiet day at home after morning service, except a short drive
towards Moncalieri. The air was perfumed with violets and every man,
woman and child we met had a knot of these sweet flowers.
Today we had a long drive taking Mr Artoni, The hillsides towards
Superga are literally covered with wild flowers - primroses anemones and
all the common wild blossoms of spring. Nearer the river banks are
thousands of violets. The willows are already quite green, the almonds
have been in blossom for ten days, and many other trees and shrubs are
fast putting out leaves. General Haug came to take leave, though he
expects to return to Turin after a short visit to Scleswick [Schleswig] Holstein. He is certainly an enigma.
After a very hard mornings work I persuaded Mr Marsh to drive down to
the Botanical Garden by the Valentino Palace. There are many curious
trees and shrubs and flowers here and it will no doubt be much
enlarged.
Carutti came in this morning to say goodbye before going to his post
at the Hague. He is a man of ability and honest enough to be the
secretary of Ricasoli, which is saying all that could be said of a man
in that direction. We regret him profoundly. - I should have mentioned
Mr Marshâs interview with Ratazzi yesterday. His new Excellency was very
gracious and expressed the same sympathy in the success of the North
that every Italian does who speaks of our government. The unanimous
opinion of all p Italian politicians with whom we talk is that the new
Ministry here must go down, and that speedily. The triumphal of
Garibaldi terrifies the timid, makes the calmer patriots look grave and
somewhat anxious, but it fills the sanguine with fresh hopes. There is
the same striking unanimity of opinion with regard to Garibaldiâs
greatness of heart and purity of purpose which I have so often noticed
in reference to Ricasoli. Both these men are violently opposed in their
political views, but their worst enemy dares not impeach their
motives.
Another rainy day. Hard work over manuscripts is the duty of the day,
and arranging the quantities of wild flowers gathered yesterday by
Carrie and Giachino serve for the amusement. For myself this is my
second days penance for walking through the Valentino conservatory
Tuesday, and if I get off with another week I shall be thankful.
This post brings Mr Dillonâs recall to our great relief. Without the
least personal ill will towards him, we have found him in all respects a
clog on the legation. Hostile alike to this government and our own, and
perfectly unreserved in his condemnation of the latter, Mr Marsh has
never felt that he could trust him with any of the business of the
Legation. The only thing he has done in this way since we came has been
to copy one, possibly two or three, papers, the first month after our
arrival. Since then he has been trusted with nothing. He is evidently
most unfortunately made up - irritable & suspicious in his temper
and always complaining that life has nothing to offer worth the trouble
of living for - I am heartily sorry for him but it is a case where we at
least can be of little service. Mr Marsh says: âHow could I - an
American-Puritan-Liberal-Union-Republican - be expected to go on with an
Irish-Papist-Bourbon-Secession-Democrat?â Truly it would seem
difficult.
Raining still, and we find the freedom from visitors the greatest
relief now that we are so hurried. Manuscript - manuscript every where,
and this morning proof to read beside -
How did the unhappy book-makers of former ages get on, I wonder, when
there was no such thing as Patent Paste! Why it is the very salvation of
us drudges of the present day.
Thanks to this continued gentle rain the work prospers - another week
we hope will see it all on its way to the printer. Mr Marsh went to the
Convegno dei Deputati this evening just by way of keeping up a thread of
connection with the outward world which we have well nigh lost sight of.
Every body congratulates on the improved aspect of our political
affairs, Mr. Tourte is especially jubilant as the prosperity of
Republics is very dear to him. -
A glorious sun this morning, and the partial change of occupation it
will bring does not come amiss, for Mr Marsh is quite worn out with his
constant writing, and Carrie & I are both rather knocked up with
reading. I shall take my first drive, since the unlucky visit to the
botanical garden. - Eve. The drive was a success - & Mrs Stanley
& I discussed American politics without thunder - though I was
conscious of an emission of a little heat-lightning now & then.
These English are certainly the most obtuse tribe now existing. For all
practical purposes they might as well be stone-deaf -
The Pomposa came in with an exquisite young creature - the Countess
Rosponi - just as poor Mad. Cappellini had taken her seat. The
high-minded Marchesa was careful to show her appreciation of my less
aristocratic visitor,
My Dear Friend Marsh
My wife was quite sea sick on
the vessel from Genoa to Leghorn, and
has hardly yet recovered. Her head still
swims when she stoops - and I have been
very busy modelling a portrait bust by
day and writing in the evening. I have had
business letters to attend to. Still one or
the other of us ought to have written you
a word at least on our return. I intended
to do so - but put it off until I am
really ashamed.
I was really in earnest about the bust
to be done of Mrs Marsh and shall expect
her here ere long - but mind, when I ask
any one to sit to me, my own labour is
gratis - The model in plaster will there-
fore be yours - After that, if you should
desire to have it in marble you must
pay for the material - and the actual cost
of execution - a sum somewhere within
two hundred dollars -
I know your generous nature too well to
suppose that you will be quite satisfied
with this arrangement, but my dander is
very touchy and will rise if you refuse
to gratify this little bit of ?? selfishness on my part -
Tell Mrs Marsh to have no fears about
the lateness of this work. And if her face has
been touched by the hand of time, that hand
has given more than it has taken, and her
Pose presents an example
of
wear, which more
and more reveals the "Royal metal" -
I would not take an hour from the age
of my wife's bust, for whatever lines there
may be upon it, though unintelligble to the
understanding - are all histories to the heart.
I feel what they mean and had they been
left out, then the story of her life would
have closed where they began.
The infant is not lost in the good child,
and the good child is not lost in the
adult but continued, and serene old age
holds all, and expresses them too - if we
could read the book of life written upon
every old face -
The young "Proserpine" stands by the side of
my wife's bust, in my studio, and between
them, there is the marked difference of 18
and 46 years - and yet there are many
visitors, who without knowing the portrait
or any thing of the original, seem more
pleased with it than with the other -
Both have a story to tell - one is short and
sweet. The other long and congenial to the
beholder. The one is "Story ideal" - the other
"alive and real" There is and always must
be this difference twixt ideal heads by man
and faithful portraits, the first are from
finite hands - the second - are from the
Infinite - The one is general without
particulars- the other is general with
every particular -
But I have not time to write a lecture
We will talk about these matters during
Mrs Marshs sittings -
The news from home - upon the whole - is
most encouraging - It looks like a cave in
at the South - and there must be a cave
in - It is not in human nature - as we
know it from history - for a people without
religious fanaticism - a strong cause - or
Some great material interest - to stand
out against such odds, as are now bearing upon the South - I do not go into
a consideration of the bravado of the Southern
Leaders - that is all stuff - the people, who
have thus far followed them, and have been
thus far deceived and duped, will follow
no longer, but soon turn upon their leaders,
and tear them to pieces if resisted - It always was so, and often when the leaders were
right, but unsuccessful - To suppose that
the ignorant masses of the South are to
afford an unprecedented example of firmness,
in the present circumstances, is to suppose
a miracle -
Pray write to me soon as you con-
veniently can.
and with our united regards,
believe me ever yours -
Hiram Powers.
Florence
April 3d 1862
and I was equally careful that my countrywoman should not feel
herself rudely treated at least by me. I find my mantle of charity [illegible] likely to prove somewhat scant for the
most extraordinary dimensions of this grande dame, and the prospect now
is mutual contempt, if not open hostility on her part. It is quite
certain we donât sympathise to use the word of the day. It was most
gratifying to receive the congratulations of Baron Poerio & Madame
Peruzzi on the successes of our Gov. I had no idea that there was so
much fire left in the former. He spoke at first with much feeling of our
victories over the rebels, but when he touched upon the project of the
European Powers to put a Hapsburg on a throne in the West, his eyes
seemed literally to blaze. âThank âGod,â said he, âyou were in time to
put a stop to put a stop such an infamous scheme!â Madame Peruzzi was
not less warm - âIt was a plan to fix a base of operations against your
Republic - or at least to hem you in and hold you in check!â Garibaldi
again came up for discussion when unluckily he had no friend by to
defend him. His interview with the poet Manzoni is a sore subject with
the codini who have long insisted that the latter was repenting in dust
& ashes of his liberalism.
I took Mrs Stanley and Mrs Codrington to Moncalieri today. The air
was delicious but the mountains were mostly covered. Mrs Stanley gave a
pleasant account of her interview the other day with Garibaldi. On
taking leave of him, she said, âI am going to see another valued
friend.â âMay I know whom?â said the General. âBaron Plana.â
TBD
Not transcribed. Title is âFANATISMO CLERICALEâ
âThen you are a privileged woman if you can call that great man
friend.â
We carried off the reluctant Minister from his writing table to the
green fields, the hunting grounds and the handsome palace of Stupenigi.
I have not been there before, and can now well understand why the great
Bonaparte liked to live there. We were scarcely out of town and fairly
in the beautiful avenue that leads to it, before the sweet violets the
daisies and other children of the spring looked out upon us most
fascinatingly from the green banks. Gaetano would stop to gather them
though the thunder was rattling over our heads, and Mr Marsh took
occasion to make the threatening rain an additional argument against
picking flowers which he always regards in the light of a crime. I tried
to console his wounded sensibilities by assuring him that though their
lives might be the shorter they would be the broader for their travels;
and that perhaps a sight of Turin and the Casa dâAngennes and a portrait
of Carlo Felice would make ample amends for other losses. On the whole
we enjoyed the drive immensely. I cannot say that I find myself shocked
- as most Americans are - to see the contadine at work in the fields.
The poor, of both sexes, must toil, and to do so in heavenâs open air
and sunshine seems to me a happier lot than confinement in the factory
or the cellar kitchen. One strong healthy looking woman who was planting
in her garden, particularly attracted my notice - I will not say my
envy, though if I must choose between such a life as hers and that of
the haughty Pomposa of Turin I should certainly decide in favor of the
former.
We made an abortive attempt to get into the country again today - a
smart shower overtaking us before we could get out of town. Mr Marsh
after writing from half past four A.M. till the same hour P.M. was
attacked with cramp which fortunately was soon relieved by domestic
remedies as housewives express themselves. I sincerely trust he may hold
out for the few days more required to finish the lectures, but it
distresses me beyond measure to see him driven at high pressure in this
way.
villa, a ch To-day we went to look at the Franchetti Villa, a
charming place only a few rods from the bridge. But, though the distance
is nothing, the ascent is steep and Mr Marsh thinks on that account it
would not do for winter, as friends would not like to come to us
evenings.
This afternoon we drove to the Madonna di Campagna the roads were bad
from the rain of yesterday, but the wheat fields were most beautiful.
The grain wheat is now at least a foot high, and some of the winter
grains - I could not distinguish the species as we passed rapidly - are
at least two feet - and nicely headed out. The fruit-trees are in
fullest flower and the whole country seems a rich garden. The air was
delicious but the sky looked a little angry.
At two oâ clock the last page of the manuscript of the Second Course
of Lectures on English was sealed up & sent to the post and Mr Marsh
sat down to announce the fact to his American publisher, Scribner. At
three I went to see how he was enjoying his newly recovered liberty - I
found him with a heap of manuscript, loose notes etc, about him - âwhat
are you doing now?â I said. asked. âAt work on my next book.â he said in
the quietest way in the world - and sure enough the projected âPhysical
Geographyâ was already in the forge. âWell, I said, âit cost me fifteen
years of hard work to wind you up to the writing point, and now I
believe you are likely to run on without stopping for the next fifteen.â
Perhaps so,â he answered, but did not look up. For the first time in
eleven months there has been to-day a sudden change in the weather. A
thick snow-storm all night day, with a cold northwest wind & and
thermometer at 40 Fahrenheit Far - in the evening at 37 - . What a
contrast to yesterday.
Another charge brought against poor Ricasoli is, that, on New Yearâs
evening at the Teatro Regio where, with all the most distinguished
gentlemen of the Court, he was attending on the king, he, after having
been honored with a ten minutes talk with His Majesty, retired to the
lower extremity of the space behind the king and sat down! This act -
though he was so far behind the king as to be quite invisible to the
audience greatly shocked some of the high priests of royalty, one of
whom went to him and remonstrated on the impropriety of his conduct.
âLaissez moi tranquil,â said the indignant Baron, âcâest une
bĂȘtise!â
Mr Crafts & family from Boston, & Col. Winthrop (& family
I believe) from N.Y. arrived here to-day. It is not very pleasant to
meet lukewarm Americans just now & even our respect for Mrs C.
personally and our still [illegible] greater
regard for her parents are hardly sufficient to secure a welcome for the
party. Col. Winthrop, I shall suffer to speak for himself, and if the
first part of the anecdote he tells of himself - and he told it to Mr
Marsh this morning - is not very probable, and the last not very
creditable to him as a gentleman it is his fault & not mine. âI was
in Florence some years ago spending the winter, and the Grand
Chamberlain of the Grand Duke said to me one evening,âThere is no one in
Florence officially authorized to present Americans at Court & the
G. D. proposes to give you that privilege if you are disposed to accept
it. Accordingly I received formal notice that I should be expected to
present Americans etc - . Not long after an American introduced himself
to me and seemed surprised that I did not recollect him. âDo you not
remember me, Col. Winthrop?â he said, âI used to furnish you with
carriages atâ__ âWell, and do I owe owe you any thing,â I asked - âO
no,â he replied, in some confusion,âbut I understood you had the
privilege of presenting Americans at Court and -â I cut him short by
saying it was a private privilege which I did not feel at liberty to
exert except for the benefit of personal friends.â If money that one has
not earned makes a man more respectable than money that one has earned
this Col. W. may have claims beyond the man he insulted, but as to any
qualities of heart or intellect I must see the latter to believe him his
inferior.
The weather continues so cold as to make a fire necessary at evening
and the frost is said to have injured the fruit-trees and still more the
mulberies which were just leaving out beautifully. It is really sad
after six weeks without a particle of frost that such a relapse should
be experienced. The fall of snow on Monday did much mischief to the
trees around some of the villas, breaking & uprooting them. We drove
along the banks of the river towards the north of the city and enjoyed
the luxuriant grain-fields most heartily. Mr Marsh had a long talk with
Pulszky to-day. He believes it is the intention of Austria to attack
Italy the first moment she dares, and he quite agrees with Mr Marsh that
Lord Palmeston [Palmerstonâs] wordy friendship
for the Italian Cause means nothing whatever on the part of England,
though some good may indirectly come of it. Every military man speaks of
the late retreat of the Rebels from Manasses as inexplicable except on
the admission that Gen. McClellan is either either [sic] an imbecile or a traitor. It is to be hoped he
will soon give some evidence that he is neither the one or the other.
There are very audible thunder-mutterings in the gathering clouds here
and it would not be surprising if a storm were to burst forth at any
moment. There is a rumor that a number of English frigates have appeared
in the bay of Naples, and show a disposition to play off a game there to
match the Emperor at Rome. I wish it might be soâas it may help bring
events to a crisis.
Good old Mrs Simpson undertook to give me some account of Miss
Bertons philanthropic operations for the Piedmontese, but there was such
an English mistiness about it that I could make little of the story. At
first it appeared that Miss Berton was an American, then that perhaps
she was - that she was furnishing Bibles and giving school instruction
to the Piedmontese - that she did all this somewhere in Switzerland -
that the idea was suggested to her by a person she met when travelling,
but of whom she could never hear anything afterwards, though she
advertised etc. etc.
Two of Kossuthâs sons were here today. Attractive young men who have
learned so much from exile that they are willing to work. They are both
in the employment of this government as engineers. I hope they will come
and see us often as I wish to make such young men feel that they are not
less respected for daring to be independent.
Asparagi al burro Reno
Carcioffi all'Italiana
Faggiani allo spiedo con crescione Lafite
Sogliole in Mayonese allo spicco
Plum pudding al rhum Ciampagna
Croccante in bocca di frutta guarnito di Plombiera
FRUTTA
Caluso vecch.mo
Sra Fida Doyeni
good-bye visits. Mr Marsh dined with the New Ministry - it does not
impress him as possessing the ability of the last. The sympathy
expressed by them all in the success of the good cause in America was
most satisfactory however. In making some morning visits on the ladies
of the D. C. the question of the Comtesse Mariniâs position came up,
most of the ladies declaring she had no diplomatic rights whatever,
being only mother & not wife of a minister. Mr Marsh mentioned our
experience at Athens where the English Minister claimed for his niece
all the honors of his own position on the ground that she was the
presiding lady of his family, and when the Greek Government refused to
give her that the place he considered her entitled to the E. government
took up the matter - Madame Pluskow, the Grande Maitresse was sent away,
and Miss Wyse was took her place at Court balls etc just as if she had
been the wife and not the niece of Sir Thomas. Mad. Benedetti says that
at the Court of St James they acknowledge no such right, - in any lady
connected with the D.C. unless a wife - but we all know that what
England allows is no criterion as to what she will claim.
We have just heard of the death of Kossuthâs daughter - a sad thing
for the whole family. The prince of Capua died this morning at the Hotel
dâEurope. A carbuncle was the immediate cause of his death, but he seems
to have been suffering much as his brother, the late Bomba did. His
family are said to be greatly afflicted, but the scenes reported to have
taken place between his wife and some
TBD
Untranscribed clipping of a funeral notice for Vilma Kossuth
other members of her familyâLady de Norbend and Miss Smith [Smyth] - could not have been very edifying to the
dying man. The princess herself, having become a Romanist and knowing
her husband to be born such, naturally wished him to have the
consolations of the Roman Church. The other ladies were stormy and said
- probably when milder remonstrances had failed - that only a fool could
put trust in such things. It is to better hoped the poor man was
insensible to such discussions. Telegrams of a national victory near
Corinth and of the surrender of Iland [Island]
No 10. We can hardly wait for confirmation. Mr Marsh went to see Mrs
Solvyns whose visit I missed yesterday by being in bed. We found both
her and her mother as much excited as ourselves about home affairs &
as scornful of traitors, and as indignant against England. It will be a
great comfort to us to have them here.
Had a pleasant visit from Mad. Pulszky and her fine children - she is
no common woman & inspires one with more confidence than does her
husband. Madame Benedetti came in afterward, and I looked as usual in
vain for the secret of her unpopularity which seems now to extend even
to those who at first defended her. Carrie & Giachino left for
Florence this evening.
In bed all day with violent cold etc. was obliged to decline Miss
Arbesserâs visit this eve. Mr Marsh had a long talk with Gen. Durando,
Min. of F. Affairs, this morning, both on Italian and American politics.
He is a simple, earnest-hearted man prematurely broken down physically.
Like every other Italian he is heartily with our Gov.
The anniversary of our leaving N.Y. and Mr M. & I spent the day
in extemporising a Jeremiad on the results of the year as compared with
what seemed then the most reasonable expectation. Who dreamed then that
half the officers in actual command were traitors. Who dreamed Cameron
would remain Sec. of War - nine months - and Welles of the Navy through
the year. But God disposes, and He will not let the vine He has planted
in the West be utterly trampled out. He has given us many victories, if
not yet one overwhelming one.
Crept out into my writing cabinet, but still not well enough to
dress. We are trying to make some plan for an escapade into the country
for a few days - Apropos of this came up the question whether my
donkey-saddle had been re-stuffed since our last mountain excurtion
excursion when it so galled the poor beast that bore it. Mr Marsh could
not be persuaded to accept my repeated assurances that it had been put
in order, and I was obliged to call on the infalliable Alexander for
confirmation of the fact. The sceptic seemed a little confused, and I
mischievously advised him to go the carriage house and examine the
matter for himself as one could never be quite sure without the evidence
of oneâs own senses. âAh,â said he, âI see! you think I had better try
it on myself!â
A letter from Mr Dillon, whom we fancied half-way to America or
somewhere else, dated at Turin expresses to Mr Marsh much much
astonishment that he should be spoken of by some correspondent of the
N.Y. Times as a person of at least very lukewarm loyalty if not actually
a favorer of Secession. Mr Marsh replied that he knew nothing whatever
of any such article, but, on the other hand, that he could not
understand the surprise he expressed at seeing such a statement after
his rather public discussion of American Politics at the Convegno dei
deputati, where, as he himself admitted, he was sharply taken up for his
language against his own Gov. I am glad Mr Marsh has had this
opportunity of showing Mr Dillon that he has no disposition to be any
thing but frank with him, and that the necessity of avoiding personal
altercation with him, for the sake of the respectibility of the Legation
so long as he remained connected with it, alone prevented him from
speaking his mind to him from the beginning. Miss Arbesser spent the
evening with me again, but as she [illegible]
unluckily stumbled upon that most stultifying of topics - Spiritualism -
alias table-turnings, I was not greatly edified - and besides, by
insisting on trying certain very stale experiments with a key, she
forced me to tell her frankly that I could see her arm and hand move
with a most natural muscular change of place which made the gyrations of
the key any thing but a miracle. By persuading her to lean her hand and
arm against an upright, firm support, the pranks of the key ceased
instantaneously. She will not like me the better for this unless she
loves truth more sincerely than most. She gave a strange account of
[illegible] Brasier de St. Simonâs devotion to
this absurd delusion. He, it appears, is one of the great patrons of the
science, and even now devotes much of his time to his clairvoyants. She
spoke of a book dedicated to him containing the usual amount, I should
think, of mock miracles - and admitted that the Austrians alluded to in
it as the A___ family was her own, & that she was herself, the young
lady, so often mentioned.
Mrs Solvyns, whom I had directed should be made an exception to the
general order not to receive visitors, was with me a half hour to-day.
She is quiet and unpretending, but one cannot feel [fail] to see at once that she has much strength and
self-reliance of character - a true specimen of a well-bred American
woman - without the grace, certainly, that is so common with us, but
this is more than atoned for by the entire absence of that pert
affectation so frequently seen in our city girls & young women. On
the whole I am greatly pleased with this my compatriote. We had a hearty
laugh this morning over a letter addressed to Mr M. by the Consul at
Leghorn, Mr Stephens. He says, âyou will examine &c &c and
report fully to me, as I wish &c &c.â Mr Stephens seems to
forget fancy he is not addressing, in his capacity of schoomaster, one
of his western urchins. Mr Marsh says âitâs lucky for me that Iâm not
within reach of his ferrule.â I suggested by way of excuse for Mr
Stephens, that he no doubt supposed himself First Consul. To-day we had
fresh figs and strawberries in abundance and grown in the immediate
vicinity of Turin too.
Had a long drive with Mrs Stanley - but came home weary & unwell,
and filled with wonder that a person can be so good as she is and not be
better - so sensible and yet no wiser - so frank and yet so but half
sincere.
Learned many curious things about the Neapolitan Gov. to-day from
Baron Fava who was at the N. Court when the last crash came. He advised
me to draw out Count Salmour on the subject - he having been sent by
Cavour to carry on negotiations with the young king. Fava gives a very
interesting sketch of the young queen, and says if the king had had
brains enough to have followed her counsels intea instead of being
guided by his bigotted, priest-ridden mother he might have preserved his
throne for another ten years at least. Mr Fenton of the English Legation
was presented to us this evening by Mrs Stanley. He has been attached to
the E. Embassy at Washington and seems to have learned a good deal about
America during the two years he was there. Though he was with Lord
Normanby in Naples and is said to sympathise with him in his views, he
expressed no illiberal opinions to us, and his conversation showed much
power of observation and vastly more culture than one generally finds
among that class of diplomats. Better still, and rarest of all for an
Englishman, he is not deaf, but can hear and even reply to a remark made
to him, or an explanation given. He does not think it possible - and he
speaks after ten years residence in Spain & Italy - [illegible] for any one of Northern blood even to come
thoroughly into the intimacies of the Southern races. How far his
opinions on this subject are just must depend very much upon his
knowledge of the language of the races, and of this I know nothing. The
two great obstacles between us are certainly language and religion. Few
persons ever learn a foreign language well enough to be really expansive
in it. We are never quite ourselves except when we speak our mother
tongue, and we forget when a foreigner is trying to speak it with us,
that he too is then no longer himself - that he says what he does not
intend to say - that he cannot say what he wishes to say. Difference in
religion, even where it is only nomal nominal, erects a most formidable
barrier. In this respect we find Italy less advanced than we hoped. Men
who talk in the boldest manner about the corruptions of the Romish
Church, who denounce popes, cardinals, and priestly power more
vehemently than we should do ourselves, who in fact say all that the
warmest protestant could say, shrink with a sort of nervous horror from
an Italian who has become a protestant. A marked proof of this we have
in the feeling manifested towards our friend Botta who has broken his
priestly vows and married our remarkable countrywoman, Miss Lynch. We
supposed he had many friends here - we find nobody will speak of him if
it is possible to avoid it, and when pressed they all say âit would be
wiser for him not to return here - he would not be molested in any way,
but he would not find his position agreeable.â And yet they charge him
with nothing but protestantism & marriage. There is a long stride
from this state of things to real liberality.
We drove this afternoon to the Venaria Reale once a magnificent
place, but in a ruinous condition since the French Revolution - it
deserves another day which we hope to give to it. Mr Marsh went to hear
the a lecture of Ferrara on the political writers of Italy in the 13th
century - very interesting.
A search - unsuccessful - for the villa of the de Bunsens took us
this afternoon to a most charming country-seat high up the Collina
towards Moncaliere [Moncalieri]. The ascent was
steep, but the road good, and the view from the villa enchanting. The
garden was in admirable condition, and all a-blush with climbing roses
which seemed to cover every wall and wreathe every window. This Collina
abounds in the most glorious sites for summer residences.
Mr Edward Jones & family of N.Y. were here yesterday and are to
leave for Paris this evening - persons of refined manners & kind
hearts, and free from the swell which makes so many a rich American an
object of ridicule in Europe. We were to have joined Mrs Stanley and
party on an excursion to the Superga this morning but could not. In the
evening we went, as we did last evening, into our theatre to hear
Scriveneck who is here again for a few nights. Mr Tourte and Schmidthals
came to our box, and it seemed quite like winter gaieties again.
A most quiet day at home - disturbed only by anxiety about affairs at
in our own country which look less promising. May the hearts of our
people grow strong in proportion to the danger that threatens within
& without. Thank God there are still some unselfish, truth-loving
souls left even in jealous, ungenerous England. Lady Estcourt writes me
to-day, âI watch the Federal successes with the utmost loyalty.â and
Lady Lyell writes to a friend here, Mme Pulszky, âI am so pained by the
ungin ungenerous, the unjust, the untrue remarks which I hear in England
hourly on the great American question, that I sometimes wish I could
leave my country till this contest is settled, or till my countrymen
show more love for truth.â
My most intelligent visitor to-day was Mr Levi - deputato - an
Israelite I doubt not, but a man of knowledge & sense. He is in a
state of intense excitement about the American struggle, and tells us,
what every body tells us, that the Italians are as unanimous in their
sympathy with American as they are in their determination to have a free
& united Italy. He is very anxious that our Government should take
some steps to secure more attention & more justice from the European
press. He says the course of England during this rebellion of ours, and
the course of the allied Powers in Mexico should teach us that our
policy of non-interference has not saved us from the jealous hate of the
of the former, as well as of the latter, and henceforth we shall have to
regard ourselves as most deeply concerned in European politics. In the
friends of liberty we shall have friends, - in a haughty aristocracy, or
in a tyrannical despotism, only enemies through all time. From the
United States of America came the electric spark that shook the thrones
of the old world in the last half century - from them came steam, from
them the electric telegraph, those mighty agents in human progress, and
from them must come yet greater benefits to Europe.
We were to have fled into the wilderness to-day to give Moses a
chance to take up his carpets - Moses, whom we have kept off for a
fortnight, - Mr Marsh says by means of bacon-fumes - but in fact by
prayers and promises - from taking possession of his precious
floor-cloths. We did want to escape the confusion of this household
change from winter to summer, but when at last, the all-important Alex -
was cured of his boil and the lagging secretary had arrived and was
taught how to visĂĄ a passport, then the envious heavens grew black, and
unless we go in thunder lightning & in rain we must give it up till
to-morrow.
Still a pouring rain and we are obliged to admit Shylock as we dare
not make further promises. The confusion is edifying. Mr Sidney Brooks
comes in the midst of it, and to my great comfort hears Mr Mâs opinion
of the truly true policy of our Gov. Fortunately Mr Brooks is a true
gentleman & therefore may be talked with even on subjects upon which
one differs from him. Between 2 & 5 the clouds break a little &
the sun looks faintly out. Thereupon a rush of visitors such as I have
not had for a week - one or two I not a little sorry to miss - Madame
Farina for instance - but admission at that moment was out of the
question there not being a quiet corner in which to seat her. Just after
dinner came Miss Arbesser and was of course told I did not receive etc,
etc, but she courageously insisted that her name should be taken to me,
and as my own reading-cabinet was reduced to something like order we
âtook her inâ. She was full of enthusiasm as usual, and said she had
quantities of curious things to tell me, only she could not stay this
time, as she had another visit to make and must be at the palace again
at eight. Just then a most blinding flash of lightning with thunder to
match, followed by a mild type of deluge, decided her to give up the
other visit & I was to send her home in the carriage a little before
eight. Among other experiences since our last evening together, she had
been to see Madame Pasta once so celebrated in the musical world. While
waiting in the drawing-room for the old lady to appear, she occupied
herself with studying of a portrait of the artist taken when she was at
the zenith of her fame. She describes it as remarkably lovely, and says
she was just saying to herself, âno wonder my father admired her so
much!â when a round little old woman rolled in, with a moustache that
would have excited the envy of most young men of twenty five, and a
voice rough as an old admirals - and this was Pasta! She found her
lively & pleasant, and ready to talk of the past, but could not
discover one remant of the grace & taste that that [sic] might have been looked for even when her beauty
had utterly faded. Pasta has a daughter married to a very
respectable
TBD
Untranscribed piece of a letter to Mrs Marsh, written in Italian
engineer in Turin, and they have a daughter whose is said to have
something of her grandmotherâs talent for music. This child receives
lessons from Madame Unio, wife of Unio the court-pianist, who also gives
lessons to the princess Margaret. Miss Arbesser, who had heard of the
extraordinary performances of this child, and who knew her parents to be
in every way honorable if not noble, asked Madame Unio if she would not
bring her little pupil some day to play for the princess. The teacher
promised to do so the next time she came to give Madame Margaret a
lesson which would be the day but one following. In the mean time Miss
Arbesser spoke incidentally of the arrangement to the Duchess. Her R.H.
exclaimed - âOh, my dear, that will never do! You must indeed make some
excuse! - it will never do!â Miss A, was confounded - âWill your R.H.
explain?â âWhy, I should at once be called to account for such a breach
of court-etiquette.â âBut it would be no breach [of
etiquette] for a princess of the house of Austria, or of England
to listen to the playing of a talented child of her own age even if she
were not noble.â âYou are quite very rightâ said the Duchess, âbut here,
I assure you it is quite different If that or any other little girl of
Madame Margaretâs age, not nobly born, should be introduced into the
palace in the way you propose, depend upon it, it would cause me much
annoyance.â Her Royal Highness then went on to say that, last summer at
Stresa Count Borromeo brought with him his own little son [and] the son of a Milanese friend of his to see the
child duke of Genoa. The governors of the little Duke found out somehow,
that the little playmate of the young Borromeo wh was not of noble
blood, and such was the storm raised about it that she herself was
obliged to tell Count Borromeo the whole affair and beg him not to bring
the child again!
TBD
This letter has been pasted in.
torino il di 19 Maggio
Egregia Signora!
Credendo che il tempo fresco e piovoso le avrĂ fatto diferire l'escursioone biellese,
mi permetto presentarle il noso romanzo americano, l' Allumeur de reverbirel
di cui Ella mi fece molti encomi.
Le auguro di cuore una parte della viva soddisfazione che ho gustato nel
leggere questo grazioto libretto tutte le pagine spirano religione, benevolenza,
civilia vera; Ella vi troverĂ probabilmente qualche cosa di piu nella pittura
di una societĂ e di luoghi a lei maggioremente nose. Gli ultimi capitoli
poi mi hanno commosso specialmente fino a farmi vorsare lagrime
in copia. Le piccole macchie del libro sono dovute al fango di cui
furono imbrattate le mie povere camere nella triste circonstanza dell' incendio.
Aggradisca l'espressione della mia particolare considerazione, mi zammenti
al degnissimo di lei Sigra Consorte e mi onori di credermi sempre
Della S.V. Crimasso[?]
devozione ed aff. servisore[?]
G F Baruffi
Poor Miss Arbesser was obliged to go in person to Madame Unio and
then to the parents of the little prodigy to explain and apologize as
she best could. After hearing this story I could not help exclaiming,
âIs it possible that this is the Italian Court in the nineteenth century
- and reformed Italy too.â âOh,â said Miss A. âyou shall hear more - and
I will bring you proofs too! you cannot come to me on account of your
health - so I will bring you some of the Jesuit books which the poor
princess had to use as text-books when I first came to the palace. Yes,
you shall see them with your own eyes, or I should scarcely expect to be
believed even by a Protestant. You shall see how all history is
falsified how some of the most infamous crimes that have ever disgraced
humanity are - not palliated, excused - but justified, commended, as
done in Godâs service. And what think you this unhappy child of nine
years was studying - this child who had never been taught where London,
or Berlin or Vienna was - ? The Revue Catholique! - yes, I assure you,
she was expected to read every day a certain number of pages of that
Review & then to answer questions upon it. The unprincipled devote
who had the charge of her seemed to hope to make up for her own
shortcomings by forcing works of supererogation on her royal victim.â I
said, âWas Her R.H. the mother, aware of all this?â âNo, of very little
of it, but even if she had been, she could not then have helped matters
much. The Countess Monticello had powerful family connections at Court,
and was sustained by the Codini secular & ecclesiastical, the
Duchess herself being looked upon with jealousy as an alien, and having
no right to interfere with the education of the royal scions of
Piedmont. Besides this, every pains had been taken to prevent any thing
like [illegible] maternal & filial intimacy
between the mother & the child. The Duchess had been told that her
child was passionate & obstinate, the princess that her mother was
not satisfied with her and that in her position it was not proper that
she should be troubled with children.â âAnd how,â I said, âwas a change
effected?â âThe medical attendant of Madame Margaret became satisfied
that she was very unhappy, & that her strange reserve was not
natural. At last he succeeded in drawing from her one morning, as an
explanation of her paleness & languor, the fact that she had had no
breakfast. The doctor asked further, and the princess confessed that she
had had but three breakfasts during the winter, and this for punishment
for various offences, but generally for failure in prayers &
catechisms. The doctor went directly to the duchess and told he had long
suspected that the young princess was treated with too much severity by
her gouvernante, that he was now certain of it. The duchess took counsel
of friends and Miss Arbesser I was recommended to her. She wrote to me
at once, giving her reasons for being dissatisfied with the Countess
Monticello, but saying at the same time she could not offer me her place
- that she could only get permission to have a young lady with the
princess as institutrice but the Countess must still be gouvernante. I
came for three months by way of experiment. Before I had been in the
palace one month I went one morning to my writing-desk & turning
over some papers it struck me that they must have visited by some one. I
searched further & found certain letters missing - among them the
very letter first written me by the duchess. I examined my key as I drew
it out - there was wax upon it. I went to her R.H. and told what I had
discovered. I knew it might be thought an intrigue of my own, but I
trusted in truth to vindicate herself. The duchess immediately summoned
the maids of all the ladies who had access to her own app apartments and
examined them very strictly and with great dexterity. The Countess
Monticelloâs woman confessed that, at the direction of her mistress, she
had taken an impression in wax from my lock & from the keys of the
duchess herself! This brought matters to a crisis. The Countess was told
that when her presence was again desired at court she would be sent for.
I then told her R.H. that I was satisfied I could be of no real service
to the princess if I was to be under the direction of a gouvernante,
& though I was quite contented with the name of institutrice, I
could only retain my position with the understanding that I was to have
no superior but herself in the management of Madame Margaret. This was
settled and I now remain till some Jesuitical intrigue displaces me.â
And I said to myself, âthat will not be long if you are dealing frankly
with meâ. Miss Arbesser then gave me a description of the way in which
the princess was taught to pray - the things prayed for, the length of
time given to it, the litany to be repeated on her knees by way of
punishment etc all of which she persuaded the duchess to become an
unseen eye-and-ear-witness of. Not very long after the retirement of the
Countess Monticello, the princess, in one of her moments expansion said
to Miss A - I give Miss Aâs own words. âMademoiselle, I was very wicked
before you came to me - I was indeed - I was so wicked that I dared not
even tell my confessor, but I will tell you. I used to pray God to kill
that naughty Countess - I could not help it!â
We left Turin about 2 oclock this afternoon and came to this quaint
old town at the foot of the mountains by rail. It was a three hours
journey only, but that was time enough for an unfavorable change in the
weather. The thunder-shower which overtook us in the rail carriage was
over before we arrived at B. but the signs are not very propitious for
the morrow. Donkeys and mules too seem never to be used here for
excursions which is a great disappointment to me.
We passed a very comfortable night in our inn, La Testa Grigia, and
though the weather looked a little doubtful we decided to venture an
excursion to the Oropa to pay our respects to one of St Lukeâs black
virgins. This ugly image the worthy rector assured us was brought to
this place by St Eusebaus [Eusebius] in the
fourth century. The drive was a very interesting oneâa steady and
sometimes steep ascent for nearly 3 hours, the last mile of the road
being thickly studded with chapels. There were also several large
hydropathic establishments at different elevations well supplied no
doubt by the crystal mountain streams gushing out everwhere from the
rocks [illegible] . The fields were most
brightly green, with such quantities of wild-flowers, some very
beautiful. Vast meadows were almost literally covered with the
Narcissus, so pure and so sweet. The air was heavy with their rich
odour. The church which contains the shrine, is of very tittle [little] interest, the buildings about it are of
prodigious extentâthe rector told us they frequently lodged three
thousand pilgrims at once. The pilgrims are nominally lodged gratis,
though it is intimated that an offering is expected in proportion to the
means of the pious visitor. The reverend father gave us an excellent cup
of coffee, and the pictures in the room in which he recieved received us
were interesting. The view of the plain below must have been be
magnificent in fine weather - but unluckily the rain came on almost at
the moment of our arrival and the clouds had greatly interfered with the
prospect all the way. For some three hours we waited and then set out to
return in the rain, after all.
We drove up to the old town this morning, which and found it
commanded an immensely extensive prospect. The hill on which it stands
entirely overlooks the newer town, and of in fact half Piedmont and
Lombardy. We were taken to a palace which is now for sale. The first
object which struck us on entering the grounds was a horse chesnut tree
of magnificent proportions. As we drove under it and the carriage
stopped, I could not help an exclamation of astonishment and delight.
The huge branches of this giant-tree hung almost as pendant as those of
the willow, and we seemed in the centre of some Gothic cathedral. I
begged Mr M. to measure the diameter which he found to exceed four feet.
The strap of our lorgnette measured the circumference only at three
reprises - nearly thirteen and a half feet in all. We were both of us
amazed at such a specimen of this species of tree. A second handsome
iron gate lead into a fine garden in the midst of which was a pretty
fountain with gold and silver fishes in numbers. On our right stood the
palace fronting south west and south east with stable and other
out-buildings on the north west, the whole stucture inclosing three
sides of a square. We entered the palace through the garden and court
and passed on to the front from which a boundless prospect opened upon
us. The hill drops off on both sides, that is on the south west and
south-east, in an irregular but rather rapid slope, and this slope is
clothed with larches spruce trees, cypresses, oaks, pines, - in fact
almost every variety of three that this tree growing climate affords,
and all in the best possible condition. Even on this morning of clouds
we could see Novara and Vercelli and countless other towns scattered
over the immense, immense plain below us which looked, toward the
western and southern horizon, like an ocean, the towers of the far, far
off towns appearing like just visible masts at sea. We were told that in
fine weather Milan might be seen a few feet above where we were
standing, and we did not find this difficult to believe. The distance of
Milan from Biella is about seventy miles. We went entirely over this
palace, sometimes called Casa Belletti, and found it contained twenty
seven rooms suitable for a family and its guests, besides abundant
accommodations for an army of servants. The kitchen, the larder, the
laundry were all good. There was stable room in abundance. A corridor
occupied the whole front below the suite of rooms destined for use, and
this corridor which was with entirely enclosed, with plenty of windows,
served as a conservatory in winter. Lemon and orange trees with their
fruits and their flowers growing together stood in rows outside this
corridor, to be brought in again when a change of season should make it
necessary to shelter them. There were still remaining in the house
certain articles of furniture such as chairs, sofas, bedding, bed
curtains etc. The latter - two sets at least - were of the richest
crimson silk damask of a quality which is no longer made. We thought
there was no doubt that a thousand dollars was a moderate estimate for
this furniture. I mention all these details in order to give an idea of
the value of such property in Piedmont. This palace is within fifty
miles of Turin, with a rail road running directly to the capital, there
are at least seven acres of ground belonging to it, it is in perfectly
good condition, wanting in no convenience, water, bath room etc., and it
is for sale. We were told by the old chatelain, who said he had been
fifty three years in the house, that thirly thousand francs had been
offered for it, but the Association to which it had been bequeathed
hoped to get five thousand more for it. Thirty five thousand francs
then, or seven thousand dollars is the value of such a really seniorial
e state. Oh, if there was a certainty that we should remain where we are
for four years, we should not hesitate to buy it at once. Our house -
rent in Turin would pay for it - and then to have such a home afterward!
But, alas, there is Rome in doubtful prospect - there is the uncertainty
at affairs in our our country! - I should add that Biella, which this
palace overlooks, is a manufacturing town containing ten thousand
inhabitants Woolen and cotten [cotton] cloths,
paper hats etc are made on a large scale.
We drove this morning to Andorno, a large village about an hour and a
half from Biella, and here we saw a curious scene. It was market-day and
the village was thronged, especially the principal square. In one corner
of this square, on some a flight of steps which led to some public
building, stood a man who was addressing the multitude. His whole
appearance was striking. A plain black hat with a rather broad brim, a
black frock coat closely buttoned, on the breast of which hung a silver
cross suspended by a tricolored ribbon. His figure was good, his
gestures graceful, but very energetic - at times even violent. Our
Alexander ran to see, as he said, âif he is talking against usâ -
meaning against the movement toward Rome. He was soon satisfied. The
speaker was Giuseppe Ambrogio, a priest degraded for his heresies, and
imprisoned, but released by order of the government, and protected in
his freedom of speech by the new laws. He was thundering away like a
second Luther, and the applause of his auditors showed that he was not
laboring in vain. A schism he boldly advocates if Rome will not reform.
God speed him & the like of him - he will do more good than a
thousand exotic missionaries. I never longed so much to be an artist as
on this occasion. It would have made such a picture - the man himself,
who looked half apostolic, half defiant - the great odd, old church a
little behind him, and the green hills that rose even above that - the
painted saints in heaven, and souls in purgatory on his left hand, the
Garibaldi caffe on his right - and then his motley audience men &
boys crowding the steps on which he stood, above him, below him & on
every side, old women & young, some with the picturesque baskets of
the country on their shoulders, some spinning, some knitting, some only
listeningâhere an old man tried to pacify his braying donkey with no
other result than a chorus from every brother-donkey in the market, here
an enterprising few tried to jostle up a little nearly nearer to the
oratorâand now a general shouting & clapping gives the breathless
reformer time to wipe the perspiration from his forehead. We succeeded
in getting one of the hand-bills he was distributingâsee opposite page.
That Jesuits & the like of them are still powerful in Turin should
not discourage us too much it seems.
Mr Marsh went to Turin last eveâ& came back at five this
afternoon. He felt a little anxious about his unfledged secretary, but
found there had been nothing special to do. He found Turin in some
excitement from the late sad movement at Bergamo and Brescia. Every body
is grieved to know that Garibaldi could have been so unwise. The dull
weather reconciles me to a day of illness.
I was not able to go out, and, with the exception of an hourâs walk,
Mr Marsh read to me all day. After finishing Mr Bottaâs admirable sketch
of Cavour he took up âLâItalie est-elle la terre des morts,â by Marc
Monier I wish I could make the time & eye-sight to translate this
faithful picture of Italy & the Italians & [?] bring it down two years later. It is just what
English readers ought to know & generally do not know.
The weather was not promising but we risked a drive to Cossato an
hour & a half from Biella and lying N.E. of it. We were not a little
amused at reading on a cornor by way of guide these words âDa Biella
alla Svizzera.â On reaching Cossato, or rather on turning after we had
passed through the hamlet, we saw that this was not the climax of the
ludicrous. Here was a large-lettered sign, âDalla Svizzera a Biella!â
The country through which we passed was fertile & beautiful, with
splendid villas on some of the finest sites imaginable. The villa
Colombiano, a present to that family from the royal house of Piedmont,
is grand, and with magnificent grounds. The estates of the Rosazzas are
on the princely scale. The walnut-trees are very stately &
beautiful, but I was sorry to learn that the devastating effect of the
war of Southern Barbarism against Northern Freedom was to be seen even
here. The glorious tress are wrought up by English contractors into
gunstocks for our Government. Mr Scott, one of the contractors, told Mr
Marsh it gave him real pain to see them fall. Another thing troubled me
- the unskillful mode of cultivating Indian corn. The earth is heaped up
in ridges - this may be important to drain the soil - and these ridges,
two feet wide with a foot between and at least a foot hight, are sowed
with corn. When it first comes up the shoots are very thick, but when
weeded, which is done by hand, it is thinned out considerably. There is
in this way, and a great waste of the seed-corn, and the labor of
cultivation is immense. Then as to results, Mr Marsh was told by an
intelligent gentleman here that the ordinary produce of an acre was
about sixteen bushels - I translate of course from giornate &
kilograms and the like, but this is the English of it. This would be
thought bad farming with us.
Disappointed this morning for the third time in not getting our
letters by a sort of Express which would meet small encouragement among
Yankees unless it quickened its pace, we concluded to drive towards
Graglia, though the clouds gave little promise of allowing us to see
much towards the mountains. We were well paid for the attempt, for
though we did not think it worth while to go half the distance to the
sanctuary - reserving that for better skies - we saw enough to convince
us that the views from this hill far exceed those on the Oropa slope.
But of this when seen more satisfactorily. - Father Ambrogio, whom we
heard at Andorno the other day, passed our window twice yesterday. The
servants of the hotel say that about fifteen days ago he was arrested by
order of the bishop & carried to prison hand-cuffed and escorted by
four gendarmes. He was soon released - they say by order of the king,
which of course means by the authorities that have jurisdiction of such
matters - and now he uses his liberty with some boldness, as we can
witness. They say âhe was a good priest, very liberal etcâ, and the bad
priests persecuted him for his patriotism till they drove him into
heresy! They evidently think him perfectly right as far as they
understand him, but they believe there must be something very wrong
which they do not understand since he does not deny that he is a
Protestant - and this with them is a fearful name to apply to an Italian
though they seem to have an idea that a foreigner may be a Protestant
without being a malefactor. I hope we may get a chance to say a word to
this poor man before we go away.
Bioglio was the point for which we set out this morning. The way lay
for the first hour in the direction of Cossato - then we turned to the
left & ascended a little, but the situation was less beautiful or
the clouds more unfavorable than usual here, for we did not get so fine
a view as we generally have done. On our return however we went over all
manner of byeways and had some wonderfully fine glimpses of this
boundless plain.
Having observed almost every day since we came here that the early
morning was the clearest hour in the day, we were called at 1/2 past 2,
and set out at three for Graglia. It was still dark, and as far as we
could judge very cloudy. We reached the Monastery at 1/2 past 5. The
heavy rolling vapours were playing the most fantastic tricks - now
hiding [illegible] completely the heavens &
now the earth, now lifting their dark curtains and letting us see for a
moment the whole of the vast plain from Turin to Milan, studded thick
with cities towns villages & hamlets, the largest a mere speck on a
sea of emerald - and now showing through some ragged rent the higher
clouds which which were fiery with the sun-rise - I have never seen
finer effects from a thick morning mist. But though the wind
occasionally drove the fog far away from us still the horizon was never
quite clear, and after waiting several hours we returned to Biella
greatly impressed with what we had seen, but with a conviction that we
even yet only half appreciated the wonders of Graglia. The monastery
itself looked far more comfortable and clean than that in Oropa, and we
concluded that a month might be spent there very delightfully. We did
not ascend to the Sanctuaries as we could have had no better view there
in such weather. Mr Marsh went down to Turin tonight hoping to be able
to return in the morning.
I rose at five, and finding it a very bright morning, took Alexander
and Giachino as compagnions for a ride. We intended to return at 9 for
breakfast but found the temptation to scramble a little higher and a
little higher up the hills altogether too irresistable. On and on we
went till it seemed to me that the whole world was at my feet. West,
south and east there seemed no limit to the horizon. The best point of
view was from a large villa at the entrance of the village of
Pettinengo. Had this been my first view of Piedmont and Lombardy I sould
have suspected myself to be in an opium dream. I
returned to mine host for a twelve oâclock breakfast. Before I had
finished my cup of tea a telegram Le signore sono arrivate - bisogna
tonare, hurried us back to Turin, where we arrived safely, at five. Miss
Estcourt and Miss Carew were at Trombettaâs expecting Lady Estcourt
tomorrow. Miss Arbesser caught sight of me on the balcony and came up to
inquire for me, but made a short visit compassionating my great
fatigue.
We had a very busy morning putting up curtains, etc, and getting the
Casa dâAngennes into its summer toilette At 3 at 8 and 9 P.M. we sent
the carriage for Lady Estcourt who did not arrive much to the
disappointment of her sisters and ourselves. Dear Miss Estcourt is as
good as ever - a little less lively, certainly, but the same noble
character. Miss Carew is in many things much like her sister, and I
could give her no higher praise.
We took a long drive after dinner as we did last evening and sent for
Lady Estcourt again at 9. She, however, came in the 8 oâclock slow train
to prevent me, as she said from being kept up an hour too late, and
having gone first to Trombettaâs, the carriage missed her altogether,
she coming in five minutes after it had driven away for her. What a
melancholly pleasure to see that beloved face once more. She is changed,
truly, but less so than I feared. The lines of sorrow are indeed there
but so softened by the sweetest expression of patience that she looks
more lovely than I ever saw her before.
Mr Marsh and Lady Estcourt spent the morning together looking over
letters, journals, etc of General Estcourt. I felt she would be more at
ease with one, than two, and so remained in the drawing room and saved
them as much as possible from interruptions. The sisters dined with us
as we hope they will every day while they are here. An evening drive and
a cup of tea closed this first day of our meeting after eight years of
separation during which, for one of us at least, the best blessing of
life has been taken away.
The journal and letters of our lost friend occupied a long morning
again for Mr Marsh and Lady Estcourt while Miss Carew read for me. Miss
Arbesser spent the evening with us, and entertained my guests not a
little with certain pictures of the Italian court in 1862. Among other
things she stated that she had a visit the day before from the Marchesa
Arconati and the Countess Litta, both Milanese, the former now a
resident of Turin, the latter a visitor in the capital. While these
ladies were with her Madame F__ , the daughter of the renowned Pasta was
announced. Poor Miss Arbesser was obliged to ask her highborn guests
into an adjoining drawing room into which she herself followed them and
then told the servant to ask Madam F__ to wait a few moments in the
first drawing-room as she was just then engaged. âI do not supposeâ said
Miss A__ . âthat these ladies would have cared a rush if I had received
Madam F__ . in the same room with them as they are both sensible persons
and Madam F__ . is irreprochable of any fault except that of not being
nobly born - nor would the Duchess herself have cared, but there are
certain courtiers who would have made one very uncomfortable for such a
breach of etiquette. I should have said that our English friends were
much pleased to have the opportunity of seeing Poerio yesterday; he came
with Pulszky and we had a very nice easy chat. Pulszky gave an
interesting account of the new school at Naples and the still newer one
about to be established in Calabria. Madame Confalonieri was also with
us.
A heavy rain this morning obliged the kink king to postpone the
review which we were to see from the Princess Margueriteâs rooms. The
weather was better in the evening but still interfered with the
illumination which was less brilliant than it would otherwise have been.
It seems unfortunate that after having changed the day of the
celebration of the statuto from May till June in order to be sure of
fine weather, it should turn out so badly.
Another rainy morning and another postponement of the Review. The
message brought was. âThere will be now review, and the King is very
cross.â Even Miss Arbesser writes âS.M. is in the worst of humorsâ In
fact the very heavens seem opened, and the fireworks, the great electric
light, etc. are all put out, for tonight at least, and Madame de Limaâs
balconies where we were all to have gone will be tenantless.
Today we experienced one of those strange coincidences which so often
surprise us in this life. Both Lady and Miss Estcourt had often spoken
to us with much feeling of the care which Colonel Gowan had bestowed on
the graves of officers who fell at Sebastopol [Sevastopol], and had expressed the strongest wish to
see him - They had written to beg him and his family to come to their
house in London when they should leave Sebastopol for America. Only this
morning they were speaking of him and the generous devotion he had
shown, still supposing him at S__. Half an hour afterwards and this same
Colonel Gowan was in Mr Marshâs cabinet. When the latter came out and
told us we were too much surprised to understand what he said, and when
at last we were convinced Miss Carew said âWhy this is just like a bad
novel!â The Gowans dined with us and it was a great comfort to the
Estcourts to see and talk with them. Mrs Gowan gave us an interesting
account of the circumstances which led them to care for these graves and
the whole story does great credit to the hearts of this generous pair.
The King of Italy sent Mr Gowan the Order of S.M. et. S.L. as a
compliment for what he had done to preserve the monuments of the
Italians who perished in the Crimea.
Our guests paid a few visits this morning & the Marquesa Arconati
spent an hour with me during their absence. She was enthusiastic in her
admiration of Egypt, and her winter there will be full of golden
memories for the evening of her life. She promises to sift Turin society
a little for me & I shall be grateful to her.
Between the necessary preparations for the departure of our guests
& for my own journey to Florence & visitors more numerous than
at any time since last winter, it has been a day of confusion. The
debates in the Chambers are much talked of - but whether the ministry
will stand or fall no one dares predict.
We drove to the station a little before 9 leaving the Estcourts
behind to take the morning train for Milan. Alexander was fortunate
enough to secure a railway carriage quite for us two alone, and Giachino
and I managed to sleep a good deal during the night. I must confess
that, when I saw distinct traces of coming daylight at 2 1/2 A.M. and
remembered at what hour I usually rose, I was not a little shocked and
mortified. My conscience was only quieted by the recollection that one
half at least of the time when I really pretended to be up had to be
given to rest, and that rising earlier would, after all, be no gain for
me.
We took our places in the post carriage of the Courier at Bologna
about half past five, but found that the carriage, which was only to
have had two seats taken for my maid and me and my maid had quattro
posti, and we were to have the company of the Courier himself and
another person already installed on the back seat. My first survey of
this person led me to conclude that she was a lady. The propriety and
good taste of her dress were remarkable. She seemed to be a woman of
about forty - still handsome. There was something however in her manner
towards the âSignor corriereâ, as she always called him, that puzzled
me. He was a good natured but by no means refined person and I could not
understand how a lady could condescend to exchange merry banterings with
a stranger in his position. I studied the two in silence for a couple of
hours, growing more and more at a loss what to make of my companion. The
terms of perfect equality on which she placed herself in her
conversation with the courier seemed utterly irreconcilable with a
certain highbred air which appeared in her dress and in her manner
otherwise. An accident broke the silence between us. I saw the
postillion performing some odd somersets in the air - the leader on
which he was riding had fallen to the ground, the wheelhorses ran over
him and so we were going rapidly down hill it was quite a wonder that
the carriage and all its occupants were not rolled headlong after. The
scarpa however and the poor beast who helped block the wheels saved us,
and at last even the fallen horse was got upon his feet again without
injury. The excitement consequent on the accident had caused some
hurried conversation between me and the lady who seemed delighted to
find that I could speak a few words of Italian. In a few minutes I knew
half her history Learning that I had passed the winter in Turin, she
enquired for the Mattiuccis, the Peruzzis etc. and being told that I
actually knew them her enthusiasm was amusing. Conosce Ubaldino ed
Emilia! Conosce Matteucci et Robinia! and she clapped her hands with
pleasure. She then gave me her name - âSignora Rignola - sono vedova -
ah si!â and she dashed the tear from her eye which had gathered there
before the smile from her lips had passed away. We talked a good deal
after this and she interested me extremely. The sudden transitions from
gaity to sadness were really wonderful. She would talk of her delight at
the thought of getting home to see her baby grandchild, describe its
pretty ways, laugh over its imperfect efforts to speak and the next
instant sign and shudder as she said âbut I shall not find him who would
have been better than all.â She told me that her husband had been dead
seven years. I am glad I now know the Italian character well enough to
understand this woman - glad I have learned that to feel differently
from us does not necessarily imply, feeling less. I was truly sorry to
part from this interesting woman who had furnished me amusement all the
way. The country was far more beautiful that we found it last autumn
after the severe summer draughts [droughts]. The
whole surface of the ground seemed literally covered with flowers, and
half our way lay between hedges of wild rose loaded with blossoms whose
very faint odour made the air delicious There was not a particle of dust
and we reached Florence soon after four without excessive fatigue.
I sent for Carrie this morning and we passed the day in an exchange
of the experiences of the last six weeks. The Powersâs came in towards
evening and we talked politics and settled that the bust should be begun
in the morning.
I sat with Powers two hours this morning watching, I believe his
manipulations of the clay with more interest that he studied the lines
of my face. What a marvellous art! In the evening I returned to the
Powerses to meet the Moravian sisters with whom Carrie is at school, and
who were to take tea there. I talked only with Soeur Clara who is very
pleasing and well educated. I was interested to learn that she had been
some years in Smyrna and had taught the little Hamlins. We were all out
of spirits from the news of Banksâs defeat
Mr Powers makes the sittings very pleasant by his original and
agreeable conversation, and as he only wants me two hours a day I am
likely to get a good deal of rest. The Browns, who came in yesterday,
are, as far as I know, my only acquaintances here - at any rate I shall
take it for granted that all the rest are in the country.
Mr Brown came into the studio with better news from America which
made even the poor brown clay which Mr Powers was fingering smile
radiantly. I think the work will turn out the better for it. I took
Florence Powers and Carrie to the Cascine this evening and then through
the principle streets. Every fresh sight of this wonderful city fills me
with increasing admiration.
As Mr Powers proceeds I finding myself growing nervously anxious. If
Mr Marsh can only be pleased, every wish I have on the subject will be
gratified, but hitherto he has been so hard to please that I am afraid
even this will seem to him a failure. At any rate I am sure the fault
will be in him and not in the artist.
Mr Powers told me frankly this morning that he found it much more
difficult to satisfy himself in this [illegible]
bust than he had anticipated - that he should be obliged to ask me for
more time etc, etc. The principle difficulty he says, is in the variety
of expression about the mouth, which changes every moment. When he has
taken one he sees another which, for some reason, he prefers - it is
gone before he can catch it and there is another and another, till he
feels puzzled and is obliged to rest, by working on some other part of
the face - then he begins the mouth afresh, and so he has done it over
many times, and still is not satisfied. I feel what the difficulty is;
my mouth has a compressed and not pleasing expression, when entirely at
rest. This he wishes to avoid, and finds it difficult to choose or to
seize the expression he would like when the muscles it are in play.
As Mr Powers wished to work for one day quite from memory I was very
glad to lounge all day on my sofa at the Grande Bretagne I was delighted
to see the Greys of New York, who greatly comforted me on the subject of
our own national difficulties.
I was waked about half past two, this morning by a harp and violin. I
never heard such music before. There were occasionally a voice few notes
by a very sweet womanâs - voice, but the instruments themselves seemed
to me to be endowed with some magical power. There was a very large
company of noisy Bacchanals about the performers but while they played,
no one moved or spoke. I did not know that I was capable of feeling
music in this way, but it was delightful, even to pain. Carrie has spent
most of the day with me and fortuantely for me, brought up my poor
broken journal to the actual day.
During the two hours sitting this morning we discussed the natural
& the spiritual, the seen & the unseen until both artist &
subject had well nigh forgotten the work on hand. I certainly never have
seen a more remarkable union of childlike simplicity & intellectual
power than one meets in Mr Powers. Had circumstances in life favored his
development in the same preparation as nature endowed him above most men
he would have had few rivals & no masters in his day. He gave me a
most curious account of the recent discovery of the skeleton of a man
lately found in some part of Germany, which he learned from Sir Charles
Lyell yesterday. The skeleton is above the usual human size & though
indisputably human still approaches very much nearer the monkey type
than does any other species of the genus homo. The head is set on the
shoulders in the most animal-like way. If there is no mistake as to the
facts in the case the discovery will be a confirmation strong as Holy
Writ to the Vestige theorist.
I felt so weak & ill this morning that it required all my
resolution backed up by a glass of Port wine to brace me up to the
effort of going to Mr Powers this morning at twelve. As I gave a glance
at my mirror on leaving my room and noticed the dark sunken shadows
under the eyes, [tear in page] the pale hollow
cheeks, not to speak of certain lines traced by the enemyâs hand - all
of which a night of wakefulness and pain had brought into fullest
evidence - my vanity whispered, âThis should have been done a quarter of
a century earlier!â I was scarcely in my chair however before every
thing else was forgotten in the discussion of that future which alone
gives importance to this present. Mr Powers certainly makes no
pretension to a metaphysical training, but his remarks of on the
Spiritual are not the less fresh and original on that account.
Another hour or two with Powers to-day, and then I was told the rest
could be done without me. In fact he says I should only hinder him by a
longer stay, as I tempt him to perpetual changes whenever we are talking
together. I drove home - hotels are as much homes to us now as any place
- told G. to pack up our sieben sachen and prepare for leaving this city
of enchantment in the morning, took dinner, and then left a few cards,
said good bye to the sisters C.s school, spent a few minutes with Mrs P.
& children and went back to the hotel just in time not to miss good
honest Mr Hart. He had only heard of my being in Florence that
afternoon, and I confess my conscience smote me when he reminded me how
often he had begged âfor the honour of doing your bust.â I had utterly
forgotten that he had done so, but remembered it when he attended to it.
I had certainly rather go down to my little great-grand nephews &
neices through Mr P. though I doubt not Mr Hart would have made an
excellent portrait, and I am pained to have disappointed him though
there was certain surely no promise on my part.
Carrie & I hurried off this morning to take one turn through S.
Croce to bow once more before some of Italyâs mightiest dead, and had
time beside to drive twice steady slowly round the Duomo, Campanile and
Baptistry - a trio that can take no adjective without loss. Our way to
Pietra Santa was through Pistoia & Lucca - a far more beautiful
country than one passes by the more direct route. One is almost
oppressed by the luxuriance of some districts. The earth seems yielding
triple quadruple harvests at once. The wheat sheaves were leaning
against the Indian corn above which rose the vines, and above these
again the fig-tree & the olive - all so blended in a whirl by the
flying train that each & all appeared to grow from the same roots.
Thousands of peasants - men, women & children were at work in the
fields, the bright colors they wore making them look as gay as the
corn-flowers which were flaming beside them.
We left Pietra-Santa at half past eight P.M. with the courier for
Genoa. It was still early twilight when we drove out of the little town
- much larger though then when I first knew it twelve years ago - and as
we passed into the shadow of the olives a strange feeling of sadness,
half memory, half imagination, came over me. Twelve years ago I had
passed through these wide wide olive fields almost at this very same
hour. Mr Marsh was then with me, our George and several other lively
friends. Now I was here again and my companions of that day were
hundreds, most of them thousands, of mile from me. I could not help
thinking what effect it would have had upon me then, had I been told
prophetically that twelve years later I should be travelling through
those same grey olive groves unattended by even a single one of that
happy company. I should have supposed certainly that Time alone could
not have effected such a change in my surroundings and that Death, too,
must have been busy. But my heart rose in gratitude to Him who had
spared all these friends, though none of them were now at any side, and
I said âHow well it is that we cannot get a glimpse, perfect or
imperfect, into the mysterious Future. A little circumstance which
occurred just as we were leaving Pietra Santa had contributed to make me
feel a little sad. As I was going to step into the post carriage a
gentleman of most prepossessing appearance spoke to me in a very
respectful way, said it was most important for him to reach Genoa as
soon as possible, that he knew I had taken the three seats etc., but he
had thought it possible that I might be willing to take my maid into the
body of the carriage with one and give him the outside seat with the
courier. My maid however was not disposed to trust me with the answer.
With a rudeness I have never before know her guilty of
While we were waiting for the courier at Pietra Santa, Carrie went
out with Giachino for a little run, They saw some women washing
superintended by one who semed to be in more easy circumstances. She
asked the two if they were forestiere, and on being answered in the
affirmative, she expressed much satisfaction. She then commenced an
amusing autobiography, told them that she was a married woman, that, six
years ago, her husband got up in the night and said to her, âAspettami,â
- that he set off immediately for England to make his fortune, that she
had heard he was in Birmingham, that he never wrote to her, that she
didnot know what to do, whether it was best to wait longer for him or to
take another husband, etc, etc. Carrie describes the whole account as
being in the highest degree amusing though there was evidently more of
the serious than the comic in the mind of the narrator. If she didnât
lay the loss of the husband much to heart, she was at least suffering
from embarrassment as to how she should decide her future course.
she took it upon herself to decide the question. She told the
gentleman that it was not possible for three persons to sit for so many
hours on the single seat in side the carriage intended only for two etc,
etc. I had had no time to think, and after taking my seat, waited a
moment for my irritation with Giachino to subside, and then beckoned the
gentleman to come and speak with me, the maid in the mean time having
sprung up to her place with the courier. I explained to the stranger the
very delicate state of my own health and assured him that it was not the
fear of a mere temporary inconvenience, but the almost certainty that I
could not possibly bear the journey in a position so erect and so
confined as would be necessary if three persons were to attempt to sit
together in so small a space. He was evidently much disappointed, but
did not in the least press the [illegible]
subject. âSarebbe stata una fortuna per me; but,â continued he âI see
perfectly that it would not do, and I am only sorry to have given you
the trouble of thinking about it.â There was something so well-bred, so
manly, and at the same time so gentle in the address of this man that I
was doubly grieved at not being able to oblige him. I would have risked
trying to take the maid with us if we could have had a spare ten minutes
in which to shed our crinolines, but there was not a moment - the
courier dashed off - the poor stranger was left behind with his
disappointment, and I was whirled away with a pang at my heart for
having been, or having seemed to be, disobliging. The long weary
eighteen hours drive which followed without leaving the carriage for a
moment showed me that I could not have borne it under less favorable
circumstances, but did not reconcile me to the inconvenience that my
fellow traveller might have suffered from being detained at Pietra
Santa. We lost much of the country during the night hours, and the ocean
sea at Spezia was rather smelled than seen by us, ( [illegible] moon reflected in the water) as we arrived
there about one oâclock. After daylight we were soon once more upon the
shore and we enjoyed the remainder of the journey to Genoa as much as
mortals as tired can enjoy anything. Every body knows this road and I
would only say of it âlet him who has seen it in winter , go over it in
summer, he who has first been there in summer should not fail to see it
in winter! We had time to dine in Genoa and take the five oâclock train
for Turin, where we arrived safely a little before ten and found Mr
Marsh and household well and apparently not sorry to welcome us.
With the exception of the hour Mr M. spent in church it required the
whole day to post each other up as to our mutual experiences during the
last fifteen days & we were both glad of a long nightâs rest. I had
a couple of hours advantage of Mr M - who went to the Pulszskyâs [Pulszkyâs] and returned at eleven. He found some
intelligent people there - among them the Duchess Bevilaqua de la Masa
whom I have been wishing to have him meet all winter. Several members of
parliament - sensible men - were there. We were not a little amused this
morning by a religious procession in honor of St John Baptist. Were
Hundreds of girls in white, crowned with flowers & chanting as they
walked on, were followed by a most comic little urchin of five or six
years old, with a bit of sheep-skin still covered with wool around his
wait, and his breast, arms & legs bare. He carried an Agnus Dei, and
the poor little creature looked from side to side in such a timid,
almost frightened way, that one almost forgot to laugh at what would
otherwise have been so ludicrous. A little Mary Magdelen of nine or ten
followed him, dressed in a short black petticoat & carrying a
crucific on a black velvet cushion. Her hair hung long & loose about
her shoulders & she seemed very penitent certainly!
We worked hard at letters, notes etc all day and went out in the
carriage for a little change in the evening. - The rumor that Rattazzi
has made an offer of troops to the F. E. to aid him in his Mexican
projects makes some stir.
Mr & Mrs Valerio of N. Y. came this morning to say that they were
to leave Turin this eve - to be absent a month. I am sorry, for I wished
to have them dine with us before they left. Mr V. is much like his
brother the Pref. of Como, & Madame is a fine specimen of an
American woman who dares think her own thoughts & do her own deeds,
without too much fear of the world, & yet not, I should think,
disposed to outrage the opinions or even prejudices of others without
need. We missed the Gerbino to-lastnight through a misunderstanding of
arrangements with Mr Artoni, but to-night we carried out our Wednesday
June 25th # project. Shakespeare was the title of the play - comedy
[illegible] indeed, though not intended for
such. The Mees was irristible irrisistible. Such an Elizabeth would have
astonished the Europe of her day I fancy, & the Me Lordos were not
less extraordinary. But Vilelm was the most remarkable of the dramatis
persona. Any attempt to descride him would be idle & I record this
only as a means of calling up a laughter-moving spectacle to my
mind.
The Marchesa Arconati spent an hour with me this morning. I cannot
fancy a more charming old lady. She is full of interest in every thing
interesting - dignified without stiffness, enthusiastic without
affection, calm without coldness. She gave me a hearty invitation to her
villa on Como. The Browns came later. Mr Marsh dined at the Turkish
Ministers where the guests had been asked to come in uniform - an
unnecessary and unusual formality which made the forty gentlemen present
all utter small imprecations upon their pretentious host. Poor Rustem
lost the more good-will than his fine wines & choice dishes brought
him in. As most of the diners wished to go to the Convegno dei Deputati,
after leaving the table they were obliged to hurry home, take off their
toggery, put on a black suit and hasten to the Convegno which had
already been forsaken by most of the Senators & Members. C. & I
enjoyed a drive in the twilight which was lighted up by gorgeous sun-set
clouds. - Mr Marsh says Valerioâs scheme for a line of steamers from
Genoa to N. York will not meet with any favor just yet. The great
Irrigation [illegible] project is now occupying
much attention. The value of the land to be irrigated is expected to be
increased by at least 20 dollars per acre. The waters of the Po are to
be taken out at Chivasso and returned at __
Young Mr Jones of Florence spent a very long morning with us -
intelligent but dreamy. The Monnets also made us one of their welcome
visits. Mrs Tottenham gave a lively picture of some of their experiences
in the way of applicants for charity. She knows a good deal of Father
Ambrogio whom we saw at Biella - says he is a good man & an able one
but impracticable & imprudent to the last degree. She thinks however
that he may do be useful in waking up the people to examine into
religious matters and believes that the Methodists are employing him and
that they keep him from want.
was pretty, skirting the fertile mountain slopes. Ivrea was not new
to us, but it looked even more romantic than I remembered it. We dined
there, & set off at 1/2 past 3 for Azeglio, missed the way and came
up out at Cavalglia! Rather lucky for us I fancy, as it seemed very
doubtful whether we should find any place to sleep at Azeglio, [Tear in page] The scenery was less striking about
Lago Viverone than we had expected.
We had a comfortable night at Caval CavagliĂ - bating the one
unavoidable source of torment to all travellers in S. Europe - and came
on to Biella this morning by the direct route not beng able to cross the
La Serra as we had intended on account of the late rains. I should have
mentioned a sad sight we saw yesterday between Ivrea & CavagliĂ . Our
attention was attracted by what seemed to be fields of a grain new to us
- a wretched ragged-looking plant resembling âreeds broken by the windâ.
We observed it for miles, at last, being able to make nothing of it
ourselves, we asked our coachman what it was, âGran turco.â was his
answer, âIndian corn, torn to tatters by the hail an hour before!â It
was so indeed. During our dinner at Ivrea there had been a
thunder-shower with a few dashes of hail - we had thought nothing of it
- but here, in the plain below, it had utterly destroyed thousands of
acres of beautiful Indian corn just in flower. I had no idea that hail
could have produced such effects. The leaves were literally torn to fine
strings and hung trailing on the ground or twisted about the bare
upright stalk. The pumpkin-vines were crushed to a pulp. This lovely
country is not paradise after all. Our welcome at Biella was
gratifying.
After dining at Biella we took a renfort last night and climbed up to
the semi-monastery of Graglia. Though not quite clear the weather was
fine, and the prospect finer, but the newly installed rector detained us
so long in the Sala to take coffee with him that we missed the sunset
and its glories. It was a compensation however to find this respectable
man both liberal and enlightened. He lamented that so little was now
done for his Sanctuary, âbut,â he added, âChristian charity has in these
days taken another, and far be it from me to say, a less judicious,
direction. If it has ceased to endow religious houses, it at least does
the work which once those religious houses professed to do - it provides
the poorer classes with proper means of instruction, it cares for the
widow and the orphan & the outcast, and so long as it does these
these [sic] things there is no need of our old
religious houses. Times must change, whether we would have them or not,
& I see no reason to think they are not changing for the better.â
Wednesday July 2nd Our apartments were very comfo convenient when at
last we got into them. We had most comfortables beds last night, and
this morning proved one of the finest of the season, though not free
from hazy mist. Mr Marsh and Carrie climbed to the Santuario, which is
some 800 feet above the church and monastery, but did not gain much in
view on account of the fog. After breakfast we lounged among the shades
of these charming grounds for hours, enjoying immensely what was around
us, above us and below us. Go to Graglia all ye travellers who really
love nature and really wish to know something of Piemonte. We were sorry
to be obliged to come down before sunset.
Once more we were on our way at 6 A.M. and this time to Ivrea over La
Serra, a most singular-looking ridge lying between Biella and Ivrea
which has greatly excited Mr Marshâs curiosity to know how it came
there. The ascent commences soon after leaving Mongrando and in about a
quarter of an hour we found ourselves in the strangest looking region
one can fancy. Nothing but stones - stones in heaps - stones in ridges -
stones in rivers. The whole surface as far as we could see was stones -
not very large - in fact the absence of larger blocks made Mr Marsh
doubt at first whether this could be an old moraine - and yet what else
could it be? At last we came to larger masses and there could be no
doubt it was a moraine in some remote geological period. After crossing
this wild tract, we climbed still higher up the ridge, which on the
slope now towards us was well cultivated, and, on reaching what we had
supposed to be the highest point, we found a still higher line separated
from us by a ravine at the bottom of which ran a small stream. Down the
ravine, across the bridge and again on the top of this new ridge and lo!
another ravine, and another little torrent and another ridge, and so, on
and on until we reached the last slope which brought us near Ivrea.
After leaving the moraine Mr Marsh says the remainder of the ridge is
entirely the work of water. I confess I cant understand how water should
have filled piled up such a semi mountain chain, but I am silent and try
to believe. There is little cultivation on the upper portion of this
broad water-washed ridge, only pasturage and that not very good. The
shepherd-groups - old men, boys and girls with their dove-coloured cows
and oxen - their flocks of black and white sheep with the inevitable dog
were very striking. The girls were most of them spinning - a bright red
kerchief on every head, and the flax bound to the distaff by a band of
the same colour. The boys were noisy and full of play as a matter of
course, they being boys, but one old granâther particularly drew our
notice. He was leaning with both hands on his crook, his hair white as
snow, and his principle garment - whatever it might be called - cast
about him as if he were standing there expressly for the benefit of some
artist. At Ivrea Mr Marsh turned back to Turin where diplomatic
business, proofs, and Mr Powers called him, and we of the spindle set
off wh with servants for the Rosa Rossa at Ponte San Martino. The Rosa
Rossa did not look so inviting as some roses I have seen, but improved
on acquaintance, and we passed a very quiet night - our heads full of
the ruined old castles and all the fine scenery that lies between Ivrea
and this old Roman bridge which we should see from our window, but for
an envious wall between us.
Mr Marsh came to us at 1. P.M. after having given Mr Powers a Fourth
dinner, corrected two proofs & finished off all the Diplomatic work
accumulated during his five days absence. Although he had not slept two
hours for the as many nights, he preferred going on as far as St
Vincent. We set out for this famous watering place at 3. P.M. &
arrived at 1/2 past 6, having been compensated for an incredible amount
of dust, by views of great interest, most picturesqe old castles etc
etc.
Remark of Chanoine Carrel that coffee was found to be beneficial in
cases of incipient goĂźtre. In fact that a more nutritious diet was the
first thing to be thought of for diminishing this terrible disease.
A heavy shower, with thunder which seemed toppling down the mountain
peaks above us, cleared the weather completely during the night. We
sighed as we looked at the Becca freshly bonnetted in white - the work
of the nightâs storm, - as it stood up so clearly defined against the
deep blue sky, with Mont Emilius still taller and broader and whiter
standing near it. But it was too late to get mules and guides for so
long a days excursion, and our carriage was waiting at the door to take
us to Courmayeur. A parting look at the tempting Nona and her companion
dissipated my chagrin at the our misjudgement of the weather; by
recalling to my mind oddly enough a phrase of Carlyle in his Frederic,
where he calls somebody âfugitive ex-monk, with fugitive ex-nun
attached.â There was certainly nothing very apropos in the reminiscence,
but it made one laugh, and forget regrets. The drive to Courmayeur was
far more interesting than we expected. The scenery wilder and grander.
The castles numerous and picturesque. When about two hours from Aosta
there suddenly appeared above the nearer mountains on the left a
magnificent snow-peak. We all in a breath cried The Grivola! The
Grivola! for though Murray had not told us to expect it, from drawings
we had seen of it we knew we could not be mistaken. Our coachman
confirmed us, and for the rest of the way we frequently enjoyed very
imposing views of this wonderful mountain. The mighty Mont Blanc was
enjoyably visible only for the last two hours. We did not see the awful
summits, the needles, the giants both, the tremendous glaciers appear
one after the other without strong emotion. Twelve years had not
lessened their solemn interest. We reached the village of Courmayeur at
12 1/2 ; deposited ourselves in the Angelo, and such of our party as
could stroll did so till we could get breakfast which was not till 2. It
was too late for any regular excursion today, but Mr Marsh and Carrie
took another long ramble, and made acquaintance with such of the
peasants as came in their way. One poor girl who was sitting down to
rest on a rock by the way, told them that last year she fell from a
precipice and injured her hip so severely that after being, for four
months in a hospital, she was dismissed, but crippled for life. She had
been reaping grain all day and told Mr Marsh, that she was paid eight
cents a day only, but that she had her food besides. We gave her the
wages of one day, and she was quite overcome in trying to express her
gratitude. As they walked on they met another young girl, followed by a
child, who was weeping violently. The travellers stopped and asked the
little one why the other was crying. âOh she has just lost her mother.â
was the childs answer and just then I was sitting in my window at the
hotel listening to the passing bell which was sounding slowly &
mournfully from the tower of the village church.
A feverish night with severe pain in the head and limbs - warnings
which I have been fighting against for the last three days - put it
decidedly out of my power to go to Mont de la Saxe this morning, as was
the plan. I however, after trying persuasion in vain, succeeded in
inducing Mr Marsh to go without me by a hint that I had rather make the
effort, ill as I was, than break up the excursion for the rest. On this
he went without me, and Giachino staid as nurse. The day proved cold and
windy, there were many clouds around the higher mountain peaks, and
altogether the excursion did not prove a very satisfactory one.
We left Courmayeur a little before noon for Aosta - I feeling so well
as half to regret not having tried to ascend to Cramont instead. The
wind was high, however, and it would not have been so easy or pleasant
on that account. We rolled down from Courmayeur to Aosta in about four
hours time - in a shackly old machine which passed for a carriage. One
of the axles was bent which gave the thing a constant direction to the
right, and which obliged the poor horses to run always to the left. The
result was a most ludicrous kind of motion, which became even perilous
when we dashed down the very steep hills at a Jehu pace relying on
nothing human but a very feeble mecanique which did not generally get
into operation till we were nearly at the bottom of the hill. No harm
came to us and at five we were dining comfortably in our own apartments
in La Couronne - a luxury we had not enjoyed before since we left this
same town. On this occasion we discussed what was to be done next. I had
intended to remain here a few days to recruit, if possible, leaving Mr
Marsh to go back to Turin to do the work that might be waiting for him
there, but feeling so well today and not tired by the drive I proposed
to try the ascent of the Nona as far as the Signal tomorrow, if the day
should prove fine. M decided to wait till three in the morning when the
weather and my courage should say what was to be done.
At half past 4 this morning we were again on our way down the valley.
Nothing can be more enchanting than such an Alpine vale in this still,
sweet, bright morning hour. The pastures looked greener, the old cattles
more picturesque, the distant snow peaks more briliant, the nearer
mountain tops more fantastic than we had seen them before. If we could
but have shut our eyes to these most woeful specimens of humanity - the
inhabitants of this valley. Why should man grow monstrous where nature
is so lovely! We arrived at San Vincent at about 7 1/2, and leaving the
rest of us here Mr. Marsh went on, hoping to reach Turin tonight.
I was too unwell to do any thing better to-day to better than to
listen to a French translation of the Lamplighter which I have not read
in English, but which is so much liked in Turin as to excite my
curiosity. I find the self-sacrifice it inculcates very admirable but it
is trivial in incident tedious in detail and every way unartistic. I
canât understand its immense popularity.
Mr Marsh returned at eleven this morning and brought with him painful
family-news from home - dear Maryâs illness with varioloid small-pox. My
heart needs no other place of record than itself for such things and I
have made it a rule not to note down my private griefs in journals
except in the most general way - but this I record as an instance of a
personâs having this fearful disease after having been successfully
vaccinated in early childhood the having had varioloid a few years
later. The war news is very saddening, too.
We set out on mules at 4 P.M. to cross the Col de Jou, intending to
pass the night at Bressone, but I was so unwell as to be forced to turn
back after a half-hours ride - the first time, I believe, I have ever
been obliged to give up such an enterprise once undertaken.
Soon after 4 A.M. we were again on our way to Bressone, and this time
successfully. Nothing could be finer than the day, or more picturesque
than the path through among the walnut-trees and chestnut-trees, and
through the green pastures, or more striking than the changing outline
of the mountains as we ascended and descended the successive ridges.
ChĂąlets in the most romantic situations called out our lively admiration
till we were near enough to see the inmates deformed by goĂźtre and
disgusting from neglect who stood about the doors. In a little more than
three hours we descended into the Val dâAyas, one of the most beautiful
Alpine valleys I have ever seen, and here, thank God, is neither goĂźtre
nor cretinism, although so near the Val dâAosta and nearly parallel with
it. We p breakfasted at Bresson, rested till noon, and then set out to
cross the Col de Ranzola hoping to reach Gressoney by 5 oâclock. The
ascent was not difficult on mules, and the charming valley we were
leaving and the noble mountains around us lost nothing as we went on.
One point of view particularly struck us. A very regular mountain head
which rose near us on the right was at last completely crowned by more
distant peaks which rose one after another until they formed a perfect
diadem above it. We had hoped on reaching the summit of the Col to climb
the crest of the Combetta, which commands a magnificent view of the Val
dâAosta and a fine panorama of the Pennine Alps, but clouds had already
filled the valley and it was plain that we should gain nothing by going
higher. The descent was very steep - quite unsafe for mules, and
accordingly most of our party walked, or rather stumbled down, as they
could, while I was carried in a chair without accident, thanks to a kind
Providence and the watchful eye and strong arm of Pelissier, our
invaluable guide from Chatillon. This man, a nephew of the Chanoine
Carrel, is a fine specimen of his class here. He possesses a great
physical strength, knows every thing about the Alps, and has a capacity
for knowing everything else if he had had the opportunity. In America
such a man would have taken his place among the cultivated and the
wealthy; here he and his mule toil together over mountain passes year
after year receiving a poor pittance from the traveller who needs their
services. Still even in this humble sphere his natural superiority is
felt, and the remaining five men whom we employed were as obedient to
his word as the best disciplined soldier to his officer. It was still
unclouded in the direction of Monte Rosa, and her glorious peaks and
glaciers which were almost constantly visible on our way down well
repaid us for the roughness of the way. The Val de Leys, like all these
Alpine valleys, is most lovely, and as we came down low enough to tread
its bright green meadows we found them [illegible] gay with a rose coloured crocus, very like
what we saw in Tuscany last October. We reached the Hotel of the famous
guide De la Pierre between four and five, and were glad enough of the
rest and refreshment it affords.
M Marsh and Carrie took a long solitary walk of two hours down the
valley, towards Pont St Martin. The precipices are tremendous here and
they were struck by a touching inscription on a little chapel which
stated that a shepherd was there watching his flock, his little son of
three years old sleeping near him when suddenly a huge mass of rock came
thundering from the hights [heights] above. The
father escaped, the child was buried beneath it. They were very tired
when they returned after four hours, having not very discreetly chosen
the sunniest part of the day. I remained quietly on my lounge resting
for tomorrowâs excursion to the Lys glacier.
I did not sleep much partly from fatigue and pain, partly from
anxiety as to how I ought to decide what should be done this morning and
partly from the weary moanings of a poor young Englishman who had
climbed the Gran Haupt yesterday. Mr Marsh however felt better. The day
was promising and I could not make up my mind to be a clog to the rest.
Go, was the word - guides and mules were soon ready. - We swallowed a
cup of hot tea and well wrapped in winter gear were on our way again up
the Lys valley long before sunrise. The two first hours of our path were
the I same as yesterday. The morning was lovely, the mountain peaks and
precipices on each side of us looked majestic beyond description;
especially the Graves Haupt on our left - a giant mountain of 11,000 ft.
in hight [height], but too difficult of access
for very stout men or invalids. At last we turned to the right and began
to ascend very rapidly. About this time we witnessed a most singular
phenomenon connected with the rising sun
The morning looked thick and foggy - there was no chance of seeing
anything today and as we must be in Turin tomorrow we have no choice but
to turn down the valley towards Varallo. We reached Piode after 4 hours
mule travelling and here were to take carriages for Varallo. âYes Yesâ
was the answer to our inquiries at Piode as to whether there were
carriages to be had. Two were soon brought out - one tolerable, the
other in the most forlorn condition imaginable. A poor tired jade was
harnessed to the first, and one lame and tired both, to the second. This
was too much for Alexanderâs philosophy. He stormed right dramatically -
called the padrone hard names - insisted upon having another and a
better carriage which was standing near the door. The padrone said the
carriage was not his, it belonged to a party who were on a pleasure
excursion from Varallo, and who were that moment taking luncheon in his
house Our zealous factotum no whit abashed ushered himself into the
presence of this party - stated the case - said it was a disgrace to the
country that the American Minister and his family should be put into
such a carriage as had been proposed, & appealed to their patriotism
to consent to give up their more respectable vehicle to the
distinguished stranger & to return to Varallo themselves in the
shabby, tattered, dirty thing which had been designed for us. There was
something ludicrous in the very impudence of this proposal which of
course was made without consulting us and which we never dreamed would
be accepted. To our amazement however this amiable party seemed to
regard the matter much in the same light as Alexander did. The young men
discussed the subject with their sweethearts and the carriage was at
once put at our disposal. I was heartily ashamed to take it but was
assured that they would be more mortified to have strangers put into so
miserable a carriage &c, and we were soon off amid the kindliest
buon viaggio of our obliging stranger friends. One may form some idea of
the difference in national character between the Italians and ourselves
by fancying how a pleasure party of Americans would have treated such a
proposal. We arrived at Varallo in good time, took room at the Post
Royal but were visited all night by scents of a most unearthly nature.
We were obliged to shut our windows though the heat was very great. Mr
Marsh declared that he could only explain such an intolerable condition
of the atmosphere only on the supposition that Satan himself was passing
by. âAnd if that could be shown,â he added, âevery human creature that
inhaled it would be instantly converted.â Neither fire nor frost with
all their attendant horrors could strike a terror like this.â I
expressed some anxiety about leaving our door unlocked âDont be afraidâ
he said, âif they have left their windows open every mortal in the house
is dead before this time.â It really was something pestilential, and we
could not sleep at all.
We drove from Varallo to Novara this morning - dined at the station
and reached Turin at 5 1/2. The Val Sesia was pretty below Varallo but
not very striking, and after we were fairly down to the plain the heat
and dust were oppressive I felt rather sadly to leave the cool bright
mountains for the noisy city but I did not know what heavy news was
waiting for me there. I had scarcely thrown aside my bonnet when Mr
Marsh put my letters into my hands. The first words I saw were âLucyâs
dreadful affliction in the loss of her child.â I dared not look further
and another took the letter for me. Yes it was Flora - that most
beautiful, most bright of all the children I have ever looked upon. But
I have said I would not record private sorrows here and at least I will
not dwell upon them with my pen. - only I must say May God pity the poor
parents and the little brother and sister that are left as I pity them,
and may He let us all see that glorious little creature in eternity as
beautiful and bright and joyous as she was here. Could we ask to have
her more so?
About noon today we left the Casa dâAngennes for the Hotel de la
Grande Bretagne, and so shut the door forever upon another of these
brief shifting years of our mortal life. We were heavy hearted, not at
leaving this temporary home, but from the weight of public calamity and
private sorrow which now presses upon us. Even Italian affairs seem on
the eve of some tremendous crisis. Pulszky told us last night that the
thunderbolt would fall somewhere soon. Garibaldi is no longer to be fed
by the false promises of a weak Ministry or, what he believes to be, the
falser promises of a Bonaparte. He cannot longer remain inactive if he
will - and would not if he could. He knows he is the only man that can
set Italy free by a strong hand, and he knows, too, that he has no time
to lose. Every month of procrastination deprives him of physical
strength - he is no longer young - and cools the enthusiasm of the
people, or if it does not do the latter, risks its rising to
uncontrollable fury. The ministry are in a panic, crying impotently to
France: âPray leave Rome, - pray give us Rome, or we are in danger of a
wild revolution.â Garibaldi says âwe dont care what France does, we will
drive out the Frenchmen, and the Pope at all hazards, and we will have
Rome!â Mr Artoni asked a Garibaldian officer the other day, where he had
been. He answered, âTo England - here is the order I received,â and he
showed him a paper signed Garibaldi, in which stood these words:
âPartite per la destinazione che vi ho detto. Garibaldi.â
For several day, the thermometer has stood at 82 in the morning, 86
at 3 oâ clock, and 84 in the evening. This is just as it was last
summer. To us the heat is not in the least oppressive though there is
much complaining. The kingâs proclamation this morning has caused a good
deal of excitement. It is hoped the effect will be to restrain the
enthusiasm of the people somewhat, and that at the same time the
Gov. will feel that some steps must be taken to hasten the solution of
the Roman Question. It really does seem as if something must come of all
this agitation. Count Minischalchi told us just now that he found Milan
yesterday in a state of fermentation and that a demonstration - pacific
but significant - was looked for to-day. The Count is very full of his
Syriac Testatment & his Prologomena, and very grateful to Mr Marsh
for for some Oriental helps he has been fortunate enough to get for him.
This evening Mr Marsh passed at the Marchese Pepoliâs - a good many
persons were present. The De Castros came from the Court dinner given
today in honor of the Portuguese Envoy who has come to ask in the name
of his king the hand of our little princess Maria Pia. The other members
of the Dip. Corps were not invited. -
The debate in Parliament yesterday on the kingâs Proclamation was
interesting. Nobody dared handle the heroic, single-minded Garibaldi
roughly, and if Victor Em. gets Rome he will owe it to this
impersonation of patriotism as indisputably as he owes to him Naples
& Sicily though it may be won by other means than the sword.
Our papers from home are less discouraged in tone than we expected
and we are glad to find the English press has not been correct in its
statements of the lukewarm spirit in which the volunteering was going
on. - As to the position of the Italian Government it looks more &
more critical, at least so far as the actual Ministry are concerned. The
grumbling is deep if not loud.
What will Garibaldi do - will he disband at the order of his king, or
will he persist? In other words are we to have a civil war here or not?
These are the questions in every bodyâs mouth this morning, and nobody
ventures to answer. Mr Artoni & Mr Clay came to our rooms for a few
moments this evening, the former a good deal disturbed at the present
aspect of Italian affairs, the latter at the news from Kentucky. I am
afraid Mr Clay will get so uneasy that he will resign & go home. We
should regret this exceedingly, for though he has much to do to fit
himself for his present position, yet his gentlemanly character and
feeling make him a pleasant associate, and with the present policy of
giving places merely for political considerations our chance is small of
being so well satisfied with his successor.
The anxiety about Sicily does not diminish, though nothing has been
heard for nearly twenty four hours. The beautiful Countess Castiglione
of Paris passed the day in our Hotel yesterday on her way to join her
husband in Ancona.
Still much uneasiness every where about Garibaldi and his movements.
Dispatches are out this morning but so vague that one cannot help
suspecting the scissors of the government have been busy. Regaldi, who
came in to see us for a half-hour, thinks Rattazzi has not objected to
Garibaldiâs schemes even if he has not approved them - that he may find
it for his interest to condemn the movement now, but he should be held
responsible. Mr Stephens from Australia dined with a patriotic son of
the Bay State.
No essential change in the character of the news from Sicily. Many
still believe the course of Garibaldi to be dictated by Rattazzi, in
spite of all his asseverations to the contrary, in the hope of acting on
the fears of the French Emperor. It does not now look as if they were
likely to take any thing by the motion, but the probabilities vary so
much from day to day that it is idle to speculate. Mr Marsh, Mr Clay and
Mr Artoni walked to the Superga this morning - leaving at five A.M. and
returning at ten. They had a charming day for it, and enjoyed the view
to perfection. Some cries of âRoma o morteâ in the street this evening.
No notice was taken of them by the police.
The Opinione of this morning is in better spirits, but the rumors
from Sicily are still conflicting. The blackness of darkness hangs over
own country if the American journals do not make matters worse than they
are which I am afraid they do not.
Mr Marsh & Mr Artoni walked to Chieri this morning 5 1/2 hours.
This was a republic in the middle ages, and curious stories are told of
its democracy six hundred years ago. A nolblr nobleman could hold no
office and in fact was almost disfranchised. It offers now little of
interest - 12000 inhabitants it is said, but does not look so large. The
pedestrians came home in a carriage. I had a visit in the mean time from
two Americans, who to my excited patriotism seemed to say the least
lukewarm in the great cause. I hope I did not forget to be a lady, but I
could not help saying to one of them, who seemed disposed to complain
about the three dollars tax for passports, that I suposed such a tax
would be most cheerfully paid by every American who had the means to
travel abroad, that his absence from home at such a time deprived him of
many of the opportunities of showing his love for his country which were
constantly offered to those who were on the great battle ground, and
that of course he would rejoice at every occasion of doing her even so
small a service. My interlocuter asked me âhow I was plased with
Turinâ.
The young Kossuths were with us again for an hour this morning, and
one of them assured me that Hungary in â48 offered her crown through his
father to a son of Queen Victoria if England would espouse her cause.
The day has passed quietly in Turin, thanks to the watchfullness of the
city authorities. These festas - today is the feast of the Assumption -
are always occasions for demonstrations, and I dare say we shall hear of
them in the more excitable towns of the kingdom.
The Italian papers this morning announce the fact that their
expectations from the Emperor yesterday are disappointed - It was his
fĂȘte and it had been said he would certainly, in his reply to the
congratulations of the Diplomatic Corps, give some hint as to his
intentions with regard to Rome. The simple-minded friends of Italy
thought the present agitation here would force him to say something. On
the contrary the mysterious man says âthe present agitation in Italy
make it inopportune to touch upon the Roman question at present!â One
might have guessed as much. [illegible] My
thoughts last night were much occupied by a very beautiful young
creature who has a room just opposite us in the HĂŽtel de Londres. She
has attracted my attention for several days by her extraordinary beauty
her rather questionable manner at the window, and by the fact that she
seems to be entirely alone. Last night my maid told me that Alexander
had seen her in the street, and followed her into a pastry shop. He
found she was, as I feared, quite alone, and what I had not dreamed of,
she was is an English girl. Poor unhappy child! I do not think she can
be twenty, and her very dark hair and eyes are more Italian than
English. She is pale and thin but so beautiful. I am afraid she has been
forsaken by some wretch and left here among strangers to a most hopeless
fate. I shall try to see if the Tottenhams cannot reach her in some
way.
Col. Dowling, who walked home from Chu church with Mr M. says that
civil war is inevitable. He is a thorough Garibaldian. American news to
the 7th Aug. no improvement.
Mr Clay has better news from home than we looked for. His father had
a narrow escape from the hands of the guerillas but got off with the
loss of his horse. His estate was not plundered. Morgan seems to have
been driven back a disappointed man. Garibaldi goes ahead in spite of
royal proclamations and ministerial threats, but the government allows
no very precise information as to his movements to become public.
We have read American papers all day and have thrown ourselves into a
fever over the stupidity and slackness of the military operations. But
the most provoking thing of all is the fact that up to thi [s] very moment some of our officers are still sending
back slaves to their rebel masters and wasting the energies of the army
in protecting rebel property. I should rejoice to hear that every
soldier under such a general had refused to obey orders, and I wouldnât
mind it if they were to lynch their commander - it would be a good
example.
Garibaldi is said to be in Catania, the government troops who were in
pursuit of him having discretely avoided a collision by taking the road
to Messina! The government here are in a charming state of trepidation,
and even in this quiet town all but the old codini of the Aristocracy
look as if they had a surpressed Viva Garibaldi in their throats. The
new song: Le parte Le porte di Roma. etc draws crowds under our
windows.
Martial law is proclaimed in Sicily this morning. Things look ugly
enough - . The common people persist in believing that Garibaldi has an
understanding with the government, and this is their excuse for
sympathizing. Mr Marsh is quite unwell today having decided fever. All,
I am sure, the effect of this most distressing political news from
America - traitors everywhere, and not a man in the country bold enough
and strong enough to take them by the throat!
Mr Solvyns, who feels almost as much interest in American affairs as
we do, entirely agrees with Mr Marsh as to the imbecility or want of
good faith in the cabinet which unfortunately controls Mr Lincoln. If we
may believe our journals it is the minority of the cabinet that rules
the President - but quien sabe! One thing is certain, affairs are
desperate enough, and if the people do not âcry aloud and spare notâ, if
they do not break [illegible] through some of
the cobwebs that perplex the brains of our Collamers, and remind the
Government that when all other law fails to do justice there is still a
resource in Lynch Law - why then we are a lost and ruined nation. Mr
Solvyns has little faith in the political wisdom of the Germans, though
he admits that the liberal party among them is very large. He gave us an
amusing anecdote of Count Brassier de St Simon on his last visit to
Berlin. The count is not much in favor at court from his known sympathy
with the Italian cause, and his suspected tendencies toward liberalism
generally. At the royal table the other day the king said to him âCa
bien, Monsieur le Comte, il parait quâon vous appelle un second
Cavour,âAh sire,â replied the minister âje voudrais bien dâetre, e je
crois que vos affairs nâen marcheraient que mieux.â This must have been
a bombshell among those royal diners. The poor Count! It is a pity that
with all his brains he should be half mad! Mr Solvyns told us some
lively stories - from Van Bosterhautâs book, which we have not seen. The
death of H Van Basterhaut was from a singular cause. He was in Rome and
at some club and had been watching for some time in silence the
performances of a tricky sharper. The black-leg was annoyed by the grave
and very marked observation of the stranger, and by way of frightening
him off, he sent to him one of his accomplices to ask why he had called
him an escroc âMoi!â said the astonished Van Bosterhaut, âje nâai pas
dit ça, mais comme je le pense câest bien possible que je le dise un
jour!â The scoundrel challenged him of course, and, though reluctant to
fight, the majestic old man presented himself on the field, and, once
there, would accept no arms but the musket, and on plea of
nearsightedness insisted upon a distance so short that the bullyâs
nerves quailed. The challenged man was inexorable, his ball went to the
heart of the challenger and he received one in his own side which could
not be extracted, and which, though he lived many years, was the cause
of his death at last. Mr Solvyns, who was in the mood for storytelling
gave us a droll account of a conversation between a Belgian friend of
his and Heckscher a German agitator in 1848. the latter was describing
the progress of the revolution in Germany in a very animated way with
many gestures and as he went on half out of breath âça marche - ça
marche - comme -â âOui, oui,â said his interlocutor interrupting him,âje
comprends, je comprends ça marche comme une vache en galop!â Our
visitors all seemed in a shumor for telling anecdotes today. Mrs
Tottenham told one that amused me not a little, and I wish the hero of
it might be taken as a model, by all husbands hereafter. Some charitable
person who was paying a vist to a poor old man who was ill was greatly
annoyed by the incessant scolding of the wife. During a momentary
absence of the shrew the visitor said âWhy do you let your wife scold
you all the time in this way? It is enough to make you ill!â âOâ said
this king of philosophers, âit pleases she, and it dont hurt I.â We had
quite a long talk with Baron Poerio on the present position of Garibaldi
and the government. He is distressed at the course the hero is taking
because he thinks it desperate, but it is quite evident that he has no
faith in the French Emperorâsâ disposition to give up Rome, and he
wishes in his heart that Garibaldi might succeed in what he has
undertaken. I was sorry to see the poor Baron who has endured so much
for the good cause so discouraged. He really looked dejected and
heartbroken. Speaking of Piedmontese aristocratic prejudices he said
that Cavourâs battles with them were harder fought than any he had waged
with the Austrians. He told us of a certain distinguished European
politician who came to Turin with letters to the well known patrician
and patriot Cesere Balbo. This latter gentleman expressed his regret
that it was a season of the year when most of the society of Turin were
in the country but proposed to invite Brofferio, Valerio, and several
other conspicuous Italians to meet him at his country house in about
fifteen days. The stranger replied that his time was limited, that he
would only remain in Turin three or four days, but that he should be
much obliged if he would give him an opportunity of meeting these
gentlemen at his house in town some evening during that week. To this
Count Balbo replied that he was very sorry &c &c - , that he
himself of course could not share such absurd prejudices, but as these
gentlemen did not socially belong to his own circle he could not ask
them to his house in town, that they probably would not come if he did,
and that at any rate it would give offence to his friends. But in the
country he could receive whomever he pleased as the etiquette did not
extend to their summer residences. As far as I could make it out this
distinction was simply a question between title and not title. The Baron
casually stated a circumstance personal to himself and which he said was
a frequent subject of comment among his acquaintances. He said he had
never accepted any order or decoration whatever, and that when he went
out to dine here or on other festive occasions he was often reminded by
a friend that he had forgotten to put on his orders; and that when he
insisted that he had none he found it very difficult to make his
astonished friend credit his assertion.
The papers from home this morning only added fresh fuel to our
indignation, and we spent the morning in writing incendiary letters to
friends. We shall certainly go home if matters donât mend before matters
many months. The last month has given us more time for reading than we
have had for a year previous Among others writers I have made the
acquaintance of Laisset, a French thinker whom it is a real pleasure to
follow. We have taken up Quatrefages on the Unity of the human species,
and it promises well. Carrie and I are deep in Italian too, reading half
a dozen books at a time in our zeal to make the most of this quiet. In
the evening she reads French to us. . The last book taken up being
Memoirs dâun prisonnier dâEtat, by Monsieur Adryane. Yesterday we ran
over Aleardo Aleardiâs new poem âCanto Politicoâ which is making a great
stir and which is full of fire. I wish this, LâItalie est-elle la terre
des Morts, and some other books of the kind were in good English, that
the English speaking world might know Italy and Italians better.
Garibaldi has landed in Calabria at Melito! Would to Heaven we had a
man of this mettle on the other side of the water! On he goes, though
two armed nations are in pursuit of him, and all Europe raising the hue
and cry âStop the madman! Stop the madman!â - still on he goes, and the
people rise en masse and government officers fly like chaff before him.
And our General with twenty millions of patriots to back him, hides
himself and his men in trenches where the earth might as well be heaped
upon them first as last. Garibaldi will no doubt go down in the unequal
contest, but he has shown what a brave heart and a good conscience
animated by a noble purpose can do single handed against the world.
While our judgement is against him in this thing, while we regret that
he should peril so rashly the destinies of his country, it is impossible
not to feel oneâs heart beat higher at every telegram which announces
his triumphal progress. The government keep everything out of sight, but
there is abundant evidence that all Italy is panting to join her
hero.
Nothing is âlet onâ - to speak in the refined dialect of Secessia
Secessia - by the Government today, as to further operations on the part
of Garibaldi. The Turinese journals of this evening are evidently in a
tremor because the Continental papers intimate that to preserve good
order in Southern Italy it may be necessary for the French Emperor not
only to strengthen the garrison at Rome, but to send a body of troops to
occupy Naples. I dare not pretend to be so much wiser than the wisest as
to venture to pronounce whether Louis Napoleon would like to do this or
not - but I give him credit for better understanding the Italy of 1862
too well to hazard such a step.
After an almost sleepless night Mr Marsh rose very early and wrote a
confidential note to Baron Poerio with regard to Garibaldiâs being sent
to the U.S. in case he should recover from his wounds. The government
here are very jealous of any sympathy for Garibaldi, added to the fact
and Mr Marsh has no authority to promise anything on the part of our
government. These circumstances make it difficult, even unwise, for him
to approach the Ministry directly, but I hope his communication to
Poerio, intimating that the U.S. of America might furnish both an asylum
and occupation to those who might otherwise prove just now an
embarrassment to the Italian government, will turn out a happy
suggestion to all parties. Poor Menotti, the oldest son of the hero, has
lost his leg, amputation being found indispensible even before their
arrival at Spezia on the morning of the 31st. We left Turin soon after
eight A.M. and with very heavy hearts. Before we return things must be
better or worse. The French Emperor must make concessions or a general
outbreak is inevitable. The whole peninsula is shaking as if a volcano
were about to blaze forth, and the death of Garibaldi from his wounds,
or any severity towards him on the part of the government would be very
likely to scatter the throne of Victor Emmanuel to the four winds of
Heaven. Our way was the usual one by sail to Arona. Among the hundreds
of newspapers every where offered for sale I saw one which I wanted to
get, but we had not a moment. It was the face of a lovely woman bathed
in tears - Italy mourning for her fallen hero, fallen in fortune, if not
deprived of life. One of our travelling companions in the railway
carriage we believed to be Petrocelli the author of âI Moribondi.â But
Mr Marsh was not quite sure enough to speak to him. He also went on the
steamer with us at Arona and landed again at Belgirate and we inferred
from his conversation with some of his acquaintances that he was going
to pay a visit to Nanzoni. Lago Maggiore seemed to us far more beautiful
than last summer, in fact the whole country looked charmingly. The vines
loaded with grapes nearly ripe, the rice fields just ready for harvest,
and the fourth crop of grass just falling under the mowerâs scythe. One
threshing floor for rice contained several acres. We saw a woman
gathering grass seed in what to us was a very novel way. She held in her
hand a large close net of an oval form, three or four feet long and
perhaps fifteen inches wide, and with this she struck the heads of the
grass in such a way as to cause the ripe seed to fall into the net. At
Bavens we were pleasantly surprised to meet Domenico, detto il
Fattoretto, our old vetturino of â49 - a good faithful soul as ever
lived. We employed him frequently between â49 and â54 and when we last
saw him he was very prosperous, having three or four carriages of his
own with garzoni etc. He told us he had been very unfortunate, had been
robbed, his horses had died, and worse than all he had lost his
daughter. We were glad enough of an opportunity to employ him once more,
& took his carriage to Domo dâOssola. We passed the road which turns
off to the Val Anzasca just above Vogogna, not without a sigh. But the
clouds hung dark over the valley and did not look encouraging for the
Moro pass which we wished to try in case we went again to Macugnaga. So
we came on to Domo dâOssola, but the last two hours a thick rain shut
out everything from us except the poor women with their backloads of
Indian corn or nuts or hemp. They are just gathering the walnuts which
they shake from the trees as we do apples in New England. The hemp, when
it is first gathered is beaten upon rocks till the leaves are thoroughly
crushed, then it is laid in the bed of the river where the water is not
rapid, or in little ponds, till it is properly rotted, as the phrase is;
All this seems to be very hard work, and not more healthy, I fancy, than
the cultivation of rice. For a description of Domo dâOssola, see
Murrayâs guide-book!! It is a pity this oracular volume should not try
to modernize these things a little now and then, so as to bring make
such descriptions applicable to some period within the present century.
One has however the satisfaction of enjoying a hearty laugh over the
rococo to be found in it.
A heavy rain, which has been pouring all night and still continues,
has cut us off from our intended excursion to Premia, thence to the
falls of the Tosa, and afterwards from Formazza back to Premia and up
over to the Val Devolo, and thence over the Col di Rossa into the Val
Binnenthal which opens into the Valley of the Rhone, and so on to Brieg.
We must meekly content ourselves by going like ordinary mortals directly
over the great highroad of the Simplon. But we decide to wait till the
flood abates before setting out on a route so well worth seeing a second
and a third time.
The morning, though not fine, was an improvement on yesterday, and we
were off soon after 7. The valley immediately above Domo is very lovely,
- the luxuriant stopig slopes, thickly dotted with villages,
comfortable-looking in the distance at least, rise fold behind fold, and
spur beyond spur as if nature had here thought only how best to please
manâs eye. By & by the valley narrows, the precipitous mountains
draw nearer & nearer each other, and lilf lift their dark heads
higher & higher, till at last the traveller finds himself in the
famous Gorge of Gondo. There every thing was as we remembered it from
last summer, the mighty masses had neither grown nor diminished, we
recognized the same fantastic towers, fortresses, cathedrals, palaces, -
the very weather stains were unchanged except that they were more
spectral through the
âTâaint for the vally of the thing, nor âcause it magnifies, but I
donât like to be composed on.â A common phrase among the lower classes
in England as given us by Rev. Isaac Taylor.
Taking our hostâs advice we set out for the Hotel on the Belle Alpe
about 7 this morning and were soon followed by Mr Taylor and Mr Russell.
The first part of the ascent is very steep and heavily paved, but on the
whole the climb is not difficult for a mule & most of it delightful
for a good climber. The view of the valley below is at many points
enchanting and, as one mounts higher and higher, one glacier after
another spreads itself out, one snow peak after another lifts itself
above the horizon till at last when one reaches the Hotel the panorama
is most wonderfully fine. A few rods to the north of the house a cross
is erected, and from this point you look down upon that arm of the great
Aletsch glacier which is turned off in a southerly direction by the foot
of the AEggishhorn [Eggishorn]. This portion of
the glacier is most river-like in its appearance. Its waving direction
made much more noticeable by its dark central moraine which winds so
gracefully, is no doubt the chief cause of this appearance, but the
fierce north wind which came down the gorge and made nothing of
stormcoats and rugs put a speedy end to our speculations and sent us
shivering to the other side of the house. Here I sat down on a rug and
cushions to enjoy the outlook to the South and a little chat with Mr
Taylor when I was surprised by a rather rough tap on the shoulders and
at the same moment the o sight of two paws just resting upon them. I
turned round to shake off what I supposed to be a dog, but at that
instant Mr Taylor had gave a blow with his stick and I was just in time
to see that this gentle salute had been bestowed upon me by a pig so
large that it would be no stretch of courtesy to call him a hog. T
Towards evening Mr Taylor and Mr Russell returned to Brieg. We were
sorry to lose them, especially the former who is a man of rare culture
and most agreeable manners, and his evident admiration of Mr Marsh and
his first book on English greatly increased his merits in my eyes. I
hope we may meet them again.
A thick mist with occasional rain prevents us from crossing the
glacier to the Aeggishhorn this morning as we had intended. We shall
wait patiently one day and then if the weather will permit shall go over
to the Hotel on the Aeggish hoping to ascend the horn if not the same
day on the day following. The Bellehorn unfortunately is inaccessable
for a chaise-Ă -porteur, and as usual Mr Marsh refuses to go where I
cannot. We shall send the servants down to Brieg as they are neither of
them very strong and do not feel that interest which helps one so
essentially to bear the fatigue of these excursions. Indeed we are
constantly regretting that the dignity of position forces upon us the
necessity of taking them on such journeys. Our own bills [illegible] are twice as large for it, not to speak of
theirs. And yet we have the best of servants. it is the fact of their
being with us that makes innkeepers etc bold in making charges which
persons of such distinctions are supposed to be above resisting. We have
not yet quite adopted Cavourâs policy though I fancy Mr Marsh would for
the mere comfort of the thing if he had the means to carry it out.
Cavour says that when he was once charged something like 2,000 francs at
a hotel in Paris where he stayed only forty eight hours and where he had
not once dined, he found it very hard to make his secretary under stand
that it was a part of his policy to be imposed upon with out making the
least resistance. Among the no inconsiderable variety of dishes which
our little mountain inn furnishes us the chamois figured to-day at
dinner. To please game epicures it had been kept to the latest moment,
and the odour during the process of carving was enough for weak nerves,
but when the dish was actually placed under our olfactories it proved
too much for some of the guests - two young gentlemen left the room, one
of the ladies who had been waiting for the delicacy with evident
impatience sent in haste for her smelling-bottle, and Mr Marsh opened
the door in the face of the driving storm. In spite of all these
aggravated symptoms, two persons at the table actually took the
abomination on their plates - yea more did actually swallow the same to
the increased discomfort of the assistants. Our deliberate judgment is
to rank the murmul-thier [murmeltier], on which
we dined yesterday, above the chamois as an edible.
No change in the weather except for the worse. We found ourselves
surrounded by snow several inches deep, and every peak and pasture was
dazzlingly white. About nine it ceased snowing and the mountain mists
closed so thickly around us that we could see only a few rods from the
inn, and the little Alp on which it stood seemed a miniature island in
the midst of a still, grey sea - sea around and above us. By and bye the
magic ring broke and throughthe ragged rents appeared patches now of
blue sky, now of dark mountain ridges bristling with firs, now a soft
green Alp, and now the little village of Brieg deep down in the Rhone
valley at a mile below our feet. But most striking of all were the
glaciers on every side which would flash out, now one, now another as
the sun touched this or that. Another hour and the mists shrouded us in
as thick as before. As I looked down into the lake of fog below me a
huge hawk came sailing up out of the mysterious abysse and floated round
and round our little world, much as Miltonâs Satan is supposed to have
done around the larger planet, and he was as evidently in search of
mischief. Again the mists melted - or rather broke - and again there was
hope of a fine day, but soon fresh masses came rolling down from the
Bellehorn and every little curling vapour seemed to dilate and dilate a
thousand fold like the Arabâs jinn until the heavens and the earth were
entirely concealed. An hour or two after the rain came in torrents, but
we didnot have chamois for dinner and we went to bed tolerably
content.
We had decided to spend Sunday here without regard to weather, and
therefore were less sorry than we might otherwise have been to find the
rain still pattering on our windows when we woke. Our fellow captives
are, an English painter and Jacques BlĂŒmenthal and his lady cousin of
musical notoriety. The waiting maid says they wish to sink their
profession so far as we are concerned, so of course we donât like to ask
if they play the guitar etc. though the instrument hanging on the wall
and this long-continued dull weather are sore temptations. These three
persons compose one party, and there are as many different plans of
operation as there are persons. They have spent the day mostly in trying
to compromise, but the discussion is becoming more and more vive without
any very encouraging prospect of adjustment. The Englishman wishes to be
off at once, the lady says she wont go in such weather, but she will
leave the first fine day, Mr Jacques says he is not going down on the
first fine day after having waited a week for it, he will either stay
and enjoy it or he will be off before it comes. The poor Englishman then
proposes to go alone. Here both his loving friends set in and declare he
shall never do it - it is most unreasonable of him - most unkind of him.
The Englishman says that they two, like Jack Sprat and his wife, might
get on very well together but there is no alternative left for the
third; - Jacques looks like relenting - lady pouts, grows tearful -
Englishman hushes up; - we get up, go to the windows, call attention to
some remarkable phenomena about the clouds, and a scene is averted,
Dinner is served at five. There have been certain alarming odeurs about
the passages for the last six hours & an innocent marmot which was
seen approaching the inn in the hands of a hunter had been suspected to
be the cause. What else could it be? As to chamois no body dreamed the
cook would venture on that again. About the third couse, however, a dish
was brought in that caused a decided sensation. Can that be the marmot?
cried everybody. âNein neinâ said Marietta, âit is another bit of the
chamois. The cook has dressed it quite in another way, and she thought
it would not smell so high.â We all cried out in a breath âDonât cut it,
dont cut it, take it away.â Poor Marietta, half mortified, half amused,
fled with this âanderes StĂŒckâ. We none of us wanted any more dinner,
but out of pity for the poor girl we sat it through.
Snow was falling thickly when we woke, but our resolution was not to
be shaken - down the Belle Alpe we were coming at all hazards.
Accordingly we booted and cloaked and hooded, and set off for Brieg
about ten oâclock. The snow had changed to a thick mist before we were
off, and we saw little of the magnificent scenery which we knew was
everywhere about us even after this mist had partially separated. The
higher mountain peaks were covered all the way down to Brieg which we
reached soon after one. So ends our expedition to the Belle Alpe. The
Ăggishorn we have to give up of course.
We left Brieg this morning - the finest since we left Turin, though
by no means perfect - about 8 1/2 with very fair promises from our
vetturino that he would take us down to Sion in five hours. Our four
horses dashed off with so much spirit that I expected to see them out of
breath in half an hour, but they held out famously and by one oâclock we
were winding up the hill at the foot of the picturesque old towers,
cathedral, etc., and were in Sion even before the time fixed. The drive
was in some respects a striking one. The fearful destruction of
beautiful meadow-land by the torrents, the tremendous masses which had
fallen ages and ages ago from the mountains on the left, then rich
vinyards covering all the lower hillsides and loaded with grapes nearly
or quite ripe, white, purple and golden, - all these were constantly
alternating and constrasting strangely with each other. As we came
nearer Sion the grapes looked more & more tempting & we sent our
vetturino to a man in one of the vinyards to see if he could get some
for a consideration. He came back with the vine dresser each bringing as
many clusters of beautiful Muscatelles as they could hold in their
hands, they were perfectly ripe & I never tasted better fruit of the
kind, even in Italy or the East.
From Sion we came by rail to Bouveret at the South Eastern extremity
of the Lake of Geneva, thence by boat across to Villeneuve and along the
shore by the Castle of Chillon and Montreux and Vevay and Clarens, and
so on to Lausanne - a shore as classic as it is enchanting. We drove as
soon as possible from Ouchy to Lausanne, and took rooms in the Hotel
Gibbon overlooking the lake and the very terrace on which the historian
walked after writing the last sentence of his immortal work. But I was
too ill and too tired to think of anything but the rest of a bed.
A rather dull day but the lake was quiet and beautiful beyond
description and the mountains though cut off midway by the clouds very
striking. There is much here that reminds me of Burlington. The lake is
less broad, but the mountains far higher and grander and the snow peaks
which crown them add immensely to their grandeur. Mr Marsh and Carrie
went to the Cathedral which has been sadly stripped, and most of the old
monuments which remain are grievously mutilated - the work of the French
Revolution your guide tells you of course. The monument to Lady Canning
by Bartolini Mr Marsh thinks well merits all the severe criticism which
has been bestowed upon it - or perhaps I should express his opinion
better by saying that he thinks it quite beneath any criticism at
all.
Mr Marsh left us this morning for London taking with him only
Alexander. The day is showery, but the Hochschilds came in for an hour
and rather cheered me by making themselves much more agreeable than I
have generally found them. The Baron does not look well and coughs
badly. We did not talk about Garibaldi as I knew we should not agree. By
the way since leaving Turin I have said nothing of Italian politics in
my notes. The wretched vasillations of the Ministry at Turin are really
not worth noting I - now they will try Garibaldi by court-martial - now
before the Senate - now in the common courts - and now not at all. Now
Garibaldi is in danger from his wounds - now they are quite
insignificant. One thing only is certain; the tone of the government
organs of the French press is most humiliating to Italy and scarcely
less so to all Europe. It is strange enough to see how this one man,
Louis Napoleon, holds the nations of the Old World - England not
excepted - chained to his chariot-wheels. Ten years ago an American
might have looked on and thanked God that he was not born on this side
of the water, now, unhappily, he can only bow his head with still deeper
shame because he is a citizen of __.
Nothing to disturb our quiet today except a sight of the note from
Bixio containing an account of his visit to the captive Garibaldi In
this he declares the statements put forth by the Ministry as to the care
and attention they have bestowed upon their prisoner to be false. He
asserts that upon the 5th of September when he saw him he had not even
been furnished with a change of linen, that the surgeons had been
obliged to apply to a lady in Spezia for bandages &c. The account he
gives cannot fail to excite the strongest indignation, and seems to
confirm the suspicion Mr Marsh expressed as soon as he heard that this
terror of tyrants was wounded: âIt would not surprise me if it were
thought good policy to let him die of his wounds if they are serious
enough to be managed anyhow so as to accomplish the end.â
The Hochschilds made us another long visit this morning and we talked
of little but America and American. The Baron seemed especially
interested in the entire separation which exists with us between the
State and Religion, and admits that it must eventually be so in all
other countries if there is really to be any true progress among men.
They leave for Turin tomorrow to be in time for the marraige of the
princess Maria Pia which is to be on the 25th. She is to be married by
proxy, then goes to visit her sister the princess Clotilda at Paris and
immediately after embarks for Lisbon.
Carrie and I tried again to occupy ourselves with our books, but it
was hard work. We were always breaking off to talk of home-friends, and
our country, and to wish over and over again that Mr Marsh were here,
that we could go back to America at once, that the next steamer would
bring news of a mighty revolution which should have swept the pitiful
Lincoln and his cabinet of dwarfs and traitors into the Gulf of Mexico
with the rebels they have courted and protected and before whom they
have cowed like the spiritless souls they are. From the time that
Abraham Lincoln sneaked into Washington in 1860 like a cowardly thief,
instead of entering it like a President of the United States, I have
said in my heart: âThe Lord has done with him.â He was afraid of being
assassinated, forsooth! Let him have been assassinated! Had he been a
second Washington it would have been better for his country that he
should perish so, than that he should have been guilty of that act for
which history has as yet no name. And his whole course since has been
worthy of that beginning.
A line from Mr Marsh this morning enclosing the âhorrid newsâ as he
calls it. âMcClellan,â he says, âafter having sacrificed Popeâs army, is
now to be intrusted with the surrender of Washington! And we shall soon
here that Lincoln and Seward have begged England to mediate and save us
from the extreme jury of the nigger-drivers. If Davis would hang them I
could wish he might take Washington, but they will live to curse us
longer.â He adds âUnder these circumstances I shall not want to stay and
witness the joy of godly England over our calamities - I shall get back
to you as soon as I can.â Mrs Stout paid me a visit this afternoon. I
was in no frame of mind to see a Southern sympathizer, and the blood
flew to my cheek when I looked at her card. But I told the servant to
show her in, making a silent resolve not to let my patriotism make me
forget to be a lady and a christian. The sight of the poor woman in
delicate health, wandering around the world with no friend and no
companion except her two little children, and worse still with no
earthly object in view except change- change, excited my pity so much,
that I had no difficulty in keeping my resolution. Mrs Stout has some
artistic talent, but I was soon satisfied that I was in no danger of
being disturbed by anything that could come from a head so empty and so
weak - even if she should speak of politics. I took good care however to
say something of herself or her children whenever she approached the
dangerous subject, and I have always found this a successful way of
changing the topic of conversation with a certain class of persons. By
tempting them to talk of themselves you might draw their attention from
an opening Heaven.
I went down to the Beau Rivage today to see Mrs Wurts - such a nice,
charming American lady, a lady in every sense of the word. We talked
over the situation of our country almost with tears of indignation. She
was born in a Slave State, her best friends are slave owners, but she
does not hesitate to say that Slavery is the cause of all our troubles,
and could she influence the President the death-blow would be given it
tomorrow. We had what Charles Lamb would call âa good two hours curseâ
at the imbecility and treachery which seems likely to ruin us; and
England did not escape her share. I went back to my own hotel only to be
further mortified and distressed by telegrams from America three days
later, coming down to the 8th of September. The Italian news is scarcely
better. The new kingdom threatens to become worse than vassal of France.
The only hope is in the overthrow of Rattazzi, an event not likely at
present, it is feared.
After an almost sleepless night I found myself this morning most
impatient for Mr Marshâs return. At half past one he came, having
travelled night and day from London. Everything there went off
satisfactorily with his publishers. Murray, too, was very civil. The
Estcourts came to town to receive him, and did everything for him that
affectionate friendship could prompt. Every body else whom he cared to
see, (except our new friend of the mountains, Mr Taylor) was out of
town, and he had little heart for the Exposition. Storyâs statues,
however, more especially the Sybil, called forth all his old enthusiasm
for Art, and he finds no words to express his admiration. He found no
letters in London from America almost to my relief, for I have been
trembling many days lest fresh bad news might be in store for us there.
He is not less distressed than I am at the news from America, but much
less disappointed, he [illegible] has been
waiting for it so long. He gives news of Pulszkyâs release, but we shall
know little about it till we see him or his family.
Mr Marsh used the few hours left yesterday in replying to letters
waiting for him at Lausanne, and at six this morning we were off for
Lauterbrunnen, by way of Fribourg, Bern, Thun and Interlaken. The day
was thick and cloudy, and though it did not actually rain, we could see
nothing but what was very near us, and lost of course both the Juras and
the Alps. By a singular combination of light and shadow on the Lake we
witnessed one very extraordinary phenomenon. As we were running along
the shore of Lake Leman we noticed near the opposite shore, to on the
right hand, a large white-looking object, which might have been the sail
of a vessel had it not been altogether too large. We strained our eyes
for a long time, wondering what it could be, evidently not a building,
and yet it seemed an object very considerably elevated. At last, by the
help of a strong glass, we made it out. It was simply the mouth of the
Rhone! After a hearty laugh we both agreed that we would never again
find fault with Turner for painting lakes that stood on one end, having
seen the Rhone perform that same feat with our own bodily eyes. The
country through which we passed was extremely pretty. Immense numbers of
apple-trees every where were literally breaking down under the ripe
fruit which they were just beginning to gather. The principle industry
we saw, however, was potato-digging It was universal from Lausanne to
Lauterbrunner. In general, the potatoes were thrown out by a plow or
harrow. [Image] A mile or two below
Lauterbrunnen we caught sight of a waterfall which made us all exclaim
in a breath âSee there! See there!â At the same moment the coachman
called out âThe Staubbach, the Staubbach!â It was indeed a wonderful
sight. The clouds lay low on the mountain-crest over which it shoots and
gave it the appearance of literally coming from the clouds. Indeed the
whole valley is musical with countless waterfalls, eight or ten of which
we can see from the windows of our hotel.
Having made up our minds to remain here today we were not much
disturbed to find the heavens still dark and lowering. The mysterious
Staubbach, in full view from our window compensated us, we thought, for
other losses. After breakfast we went out a little to get a nearer view
of this fall, and altogether the scene was a singularly fine one. The
grand precipices, or rather buttresses, that hem in the valley, the
valley itself so p softly, richly green, its numerous chĂąlets most
picturesquely disposed on the little rolling knolls, the subdued Autumn
hints of the disiduous trees, and the low gentle hush of the waterfalls
- we missed nothing. About one oâclock, however, the low heavy mists
began to lift, the icy foot of a glacier here and there came out, then,
as the clouds thinned, we could trace the shining rivers higher and
higher, yet ever lost in the dark [illegible]
masses of vapour which seemed continually rolling upward, upward. At
last strange spectral points glimmered through the watery mists lighted,
as it seemed, by a pale cold moonlight. âThe Silberhorn!â cried one of
our waiters, and very silvery it looked too. So came out one after
another, yet and one after another disappearing and re-appearing, the
Breithorn, the Schwartze-Mönch, the Schnee-Spitze, the Mönch, and last
of all the highest point of the Jungfrau which seemed not only to touch,
but to penetrate into the very heavens. We watched the wonderful changes
produced on these stupendous snow-covered mountains by the sunlight, now
bright, now faint, and by the diminishing and dilating vapours,
sometimes covering them with the thinnest possible veil, then leaving
them in the brightest blaze of sunlight, then softening them down to the
coldest moonlight, then hiding them entirely from our sight, only to
lift again the perpetually shifting curtain and to call forth new
expressions of delight & astonishment. We quite forgot the Staubbach
in the spectacle before us, but, turning our eyes once more to the
right, what was our astonishment to see this world-renowned fall
apparently reduced to half the height we had given it in the morning,
when it seemed to pour literally from the very heavens. The few clouds
which were now visible in that direction, had retreated far, far into
the depths of blue, and the immense distance between them and the top of
the ledge over which the Staubbach pours dwarfed the its height - or
rather seemed to dwarf it, to a degree I could never have imagined
possible except from actual observation. And yet the Staubbach falls
nearly a thousand feet perpendicularly - I said falls, but floats is a
far more appropriate word, for a motion so gentle, so graceful as is
that of these descending waters.
A glorious morning tempted us to ascend to MĂŒrren with a faint dream
of the posibility of climbing the Schilthorn the next day. We went first
to see the Staubbach in the morning sun with its gorgeous rain-bow.
Nothing could exceed the brilliancy of its colours - and then the
fainter rain-bow above it, and here a broken fragment of another, and
there another. A few steps aside and all was lost. I could not help
thinking: so it is ever with us mortals - there is a rain-bow of
divinest promise always near us if we will only put ourselves where we
can see it. Turning back a little from the fall we began a sharp ascent
on the same side of the valley. Three quarters of an hour of steady
climbing brought us to the stream which forms the Staubbach, but before
reaching it we had already crossed some half dozen, what we should call
in Vermont, swift mountain brooks, that poured down the precipitous
ledge below us in falls that would be thought very fine were it not for
the far finer Staubbach. We reached MĂŒrren in a little less than three
hours having greatly enjoyed every new snow-peak that rose upon us as we
ascended. Next after the Munch came the Eigher, a mountain very striking
in its form, and not much inferior in height to his brother, the Monk.
After this came the Wetterhorn, and more other horns than I can name.
Southward too, beyond the Mittags-horn came the Spalten-horn, the
Lauterbrunnen-horn &c &c. One of our guides pointed into the
deep valley south of the Jungfrau, and between it and the Schneehorn,
and told me that this was the Roth-thal. Here, he says, is often heard
the roar of cannon and artillery and all manner of frightful sounds. Nor
are the sights less unearthly which are beheld by him who ventures far
into its recesses. Out of this valley comes the wild huntsman, and all
the horrors that attend him. In fact this Roth-thal is another Bloxberg.
Mr Marsh and Carrie, who walked, did not complain much of fatugue
although we were now nearly two thousand feet above Lauterbrunnen. We
summoned âmine hostâ who thought I might be got up the Schilthorn
tomorrow, and after enjoying an indescribable sunset here we went to bed
hoping for a bright morning.
Mr Marsh woke me soon after ten to tell me that he did not feel quite
well, and that I must not be startled by his striking a light, as he
wished to go to Carrieâs room for some camphor. I had been asleep but a
few minutes. While he was gone I sprang to the window and looked out.
Never except in Egypt or Arabia have I seen the stars shine with such a
glory. When Mr Marsh came into the room again and I had assured myself
that he was not likely to faint, I begged him to look out. Jupiter hung
stood over the summit of the Jungfrau with a disk as distinct as the
moon [illegible] ever [illegible] showed. The
Pleiades hung like a cluster of jewels unspeakably bright in a heaven
which was neither blue nor black. Every star that was visible from our
windows seemed a little sun, and their extraordinary clearness, added to
the reflection from the mighty masses of snow and ice around and above
us, made the night as light as ordinary moonlight. The excitement of
this night-scene, anxiety about Mr Marsh, and the thoughts of the
difficult and dangerous expedition planned for the morrow, and continual
home memories prevented me from shutting my eyes for the rest of the
night. I rose several times to look at the stars. Never have I seen
Orion flame as he flamed last tonight. At five we rose - Mr Marsh
declared himself better, and soon after six we were on our way towards
the Schilthorn For the first three quarters of an hour Mr Marsh and
Carrie rode, but I took a chair from the hotel. At the point where the
horses were left - or five minutes after, the stiff ascent began. My men
thought at first I could not be carried for some ten minutes but then
concluded to try, and succeeded in getting me safely across the steep
wet zigzags where the bare rock seemed to offer no foothold even for a
goat. So on we toiled - hour after hour, now up steep, rocky
acclivities, now along over soft green alps, then down into some bare
valley, then up a shattered mountain-side quite covered with broken
slate. Sometimes we crept for a quarter of a mile along these slopes
with a precipice of from one to three thousand feet below us, and
scarcely less above us. The foot-path here was barely wide enough to
step on, and sometimes it was not visible at all. The guides showed Mr
Marsh how to thrust his alpenstock into the slope above him, but warned
him against using it below him lest he should push off the stones which
were to serve as a foot-hold. Now and then they would hurl down a block
into the fearful depth below us. I should not have thought of danger
here had Mr Marsh been less heavy, but I could not help confessing to
myself that one false step would be fatal to him, and I had to shut my
eyes. Carrie, whose head seemed proof against dizzyiness called out to
me to tell her how far it was down to a little pond at least three
thousand feet below us. My answer was âMind your feet, and hold your
peace.â Twice in the course of the ascent we had to pass a place like
this. Mr Marsh found himself a good deal out of breath while we were
still more than an hour from the top. But the tempting summit was before
him, and I could not persuade him to give it up. This last hour was a
very steep climb, and the precipices below us were even more terrible,
but we had a better foot-hold, and extreme carelessness alone could have
caused an accident. We had to pass through considerable snow but much
less than would have been the case in ordinary years. At last we stood
on the summit. I sprang from my chair, and swung a red Garibaldino over
my head for the encouragement of Mr Marsh who was still some yards
behind. Carrie and I spread a shawl for him on the broken slate and
wrapping him in his great coat gave him time to take breath and look
about him. What we saw no human pencil could ever paint - much less can
words describe. [Illegible] The Schilthorn is
much more isolated than most of these peaks, and we seemed to stand on
an elevated island completely surrounded by mountains. There was a
depression in this mountain-zone just towards the north, so that we
could look over that portion which was without snow, down upon lake
Thun, and then far, far beyond it over the whole of Switzerland which
lay between us and the Jura chain, which formed a dark blue line on the
edge of the horizon. A few cloud-banks were scattered over this vast
tract, but for the most part, the prospect was unobscured. The wonderful
feature of the scene however was the grand snow-range from the Faulhorn
on the northwest east to the BlĂŒmlis Alp on the south west, and most
conspicuous in this range were the Eigher, the Mönch, the Jungfrau and
the BlĂŒmlis Alp itself. I only name the most striking, though none could
have been missed without marring the picture. We were beside ourselves
with delight, seeing all we had hoped to see and far more. We heard, at
not unfrequent intervals, the fearful roar of the avalanches, but were
not fortunate enough to see their fall. We could only make a short halt
at the summit, as the air was piercingly cold, and Mr Marsh soon began
to feel very chilly in spite of great coats and shawls. Our descent was
easier and not less fortunate than the ascent, and we reached our hotel
- home as we called it - (why shouldnât we, we have no other) about half
past two, Mr Marsh a good deal exhausted, but Carrie declaring she could
very well go down to Lauterbrunnen. Our first order was for tea which we
all drank ad libitum. After this even Mr Marsh pronounced himself equal
to two hours more, and we nearly made up our minds to go down to
Lauterbrunnen, but sober second thoughts decided us to stay where we
were for the night. During this day, as on the day previous, many
travellers came up to MĂŒrren, but they generally returned to
Lauterbrunnen after spending an hour or two here, and few - none except
gentlemen, staid to try the Schilthorn. Among other travellers we met
here Mr Wilkinson of New Haven, an intelligent young man whom we
conjecture to be a correspondent of the New York World.
We left MĂŒrren at half past six and were at Lauterbrunnen in a little
less than two hours, Mr Marsh and Carrie still walking. The weather
looked so doubtful all day that we gave up the idea of ascending [illegible] the Wengern Alp as far as the Jungfrau
hotel, which we should have done had it been fine. We conclude to wait
patiently a day or two if necessary for better weather
A continued rain has kept us here through the day, and we were
beginning to talk seriously of going directly to Lucerne, when the sky
brightened a little and we postponed our decision till morning.
A magnificent sunrise decided us to try the Wengern Alp today. So
after paying a most scandalous bill to mine host of Lauterbrunnen -
among the items which was a demand of six francs each for a breakfast,
and thirty three francs for a man and horse to go to MĂŒrren, we being
absent from his house only 46 hours, and 8 8 francs for the man who led
[illegible] the horses beside trinkgelt - we set
off not in the best possible humor, leaving the servants to bring the
luggage by carriage to Grindelwald. Let me here say that of all the
coarse and vulgar swindlers the German and Swiss Wirth is the most
impudent. The glorious nature that surrounded us soon restored me to my
wonted philosophy, however. We reached the HĂŽtel der Jungfrau soon after
eleven, but much as we had enjoyed the morning we were unanimous in
favor of the views seen during the ascent to MĂŒrren & from that
hamlet. We waited at the Jungfrau for at least two hours hoping to see
some of the avalanches said to be so frequent here. But though we heard
several considerable peals like thunder and witnessed the fall of small
masses yet there was nothing at all like my idea of an avalanche and I
felt not a little disappointed when we were obliged to set off again.
The hotel Bellevue, something less than an hour beyond the Jungfrau, and
on the summit of the col commands a much finer view than the latter. The
Eigher is from this point indescribably s ublime - but I should waste
words in attempting to describe it. We found servants and dinner waiting
for us at Grindelwald, and Mr Marsh and Carrie who had walked seven
hours exclusive of the riposo at the Jungfrau declared themselves
scarcely tired at all.
As we had concluded last night only to visit the lower portion of the
nearest glacier and then ascend the Faulhorn to sleep, I indulged myself
in a long morning nap. My surprise was not small on waking a little
after 7 to find that Mr Marshâs enthusiasm for glaciers had been nursed
into a fresh flame by an hours contemplation of the grand one just
before our windows, and he begged to know if I was willing to go up to
the Jardin or Eismeer, before setting out for the Faulhorn. He thought
four hours would be time enough to do the glacier and we might still go
up the Faulhorn in the afternoon. I saw at once that if we did not go to
the Eismeer it would always be a regret for him. So I [illegible] assented at once, we took the shortest of
breakfasts and were soon on our way toward the glacier. After the first
half hour the ascent is very steep and the path sometimes a by no means
broad one along the very face of the rock with a fearful precipice below
at the bottom of which opened lie gaping ice-chasms. Mr Wilkinson, whom
we had met at MĂŒrren, made one of our party, and after about an hour and
a halfâs climb, my chair was set down, and the walkers stopped a few
minutes for breath. While we were looking with delight on the sublimely
wild scene below around and above us, we heard a faint sound and our
guides exclaimed, âDa kommt die lavinen! Da geht sie los!â We looked in
the direction of the sound, which by this time was like a thousand
thunders, and never shall I forget the spectacle we beheld. First a
cloud of fine snow shot down the wide ravine on the east side of the
[illegible] Eiger, volume rolling over volume
quite across the glacier with the velocity of steam from a high-pressure
engine, and this was followed, quick as thought, by an ocean of
snow-blocks pouring like a hundred Niagaras down the face of the
mountain and on to the glacier. Here the snow- or rather ice-flood
seemed to separate into rivers, some leaping into the bottomless
crevasses, others tumbling headlong down the glacier, others still
spreading out over its surface into lake-like patches of marvellous
whiteness. The flow of these streams was as perfect as if they had been
composed of water, and yet the drops that made up these awful torrents
were huge blocks of ice varying in size from square inches to square
yards and even much larger. Though this avalanche came from the mountain
opposite the one on whose side we were standing, and the wide glacier
lay diagonally between us - we must have been a mile from the point
where the principal mass fell - yet the wind caused
Mr Wilkinsonâs anecdote of the old lady who counselled her son to go
always to church, she was not disposed to be nice âas to what church,
only she begged he âwould go somewhere where the gospel was dispensed
with.â A very orthodox gentleman, hearing the anecdote remarked that the
mother must have meant to send her boy to the Unitarian Church.
by its fall dashed a shower of the fine snow in our faces, and our
guides assured us that, if we had been on the narrow l ledge of rock
more directly opposite, which we were obliged to pass a few minutes
later, it would have been etwas gefÀhrlich on account of the violent
wind. The length of time occupied by the fall of this snow-mountain from
its giddy height was the feature in the phenomenon for which I was least
prepared, and which will perhaps convey the best idea of the immense
mass that fell. From eight to ten minutes the awful cataract continued
to flow with almost unabated volume and while the thunder-like roar that
attended it, seemed to threaten the utter destruction of both the Eiger
& the Mettenberg. Among the sublime natural phenomena which I have
been fortunate enough to witness, I shall place this avalanche beside
the eruption of Vesuvius in the winter of â49-â50. As soon as we had
recovered a little from our excitement we pressed on again and in
another half hour were at the ladders which it is necessary to descend
in order to reach the glacier. They certainly looked rather frail for a
man of Mr Marshâs size, to say nothing of the dizzy precipice and the
yawning ice chasms below, but we were now too much in the spirit of
investigating the wonders of the Alps to think much of danger. One of
the guides went forward and, advising us to cross the ladders one by one
so as to throw no unnecessary weight upon them, he stood at the foot and
passed us [illegible] on to the ice till we all stood
together on the frozen river. My chair was then brought down, I was
carried in it when practicable, and when not I was lifted by the arm
until we were all fairly across the glacier. We none of us thought it
dangerous, except from the temptation to approach too near the edges of
the bottomless [illegible] crevasses, The -
bottomless, or terminating in roaring, whirling, eddying torrents. There
was an indescribable fascination about these awful chasms which it was
difficult to resist especially when you were told that in such a place a
peasant had fallen this summer, in such an other forty years ago an
English clergyman
Form of the artificial grotto, solid character of the ice - and yet
full of flattened bubbles - stones in the ice - great transparency of
the ice - depth into which one seemed to look into it.
A most glorious day, and such as one only sees towards Autumn. We
notice in Switzerland something of the rich colouring of our own
autumnal foliage, though by no means so brilliant. We went this morning
to attend the English Service which is kept up here through the summer.
We three, with the addition of the clergymanâs wife composed the
congregation, but the chaplain read well and preached well, and we
really enjoyed it. One thought of his struck me as decidedly fine.
Speaking of the comparison of the christian Church to the Jewish temple
as a âbuilding fitly framed togetherâ &c, he said that âas the
stones in Solomonâs temple were all cut and prepared each for its own
place at a distance from the ediface, and then brought together without
sound of hammer &c, so God was preparing the lively stones of his
new temple in far distant regions and yet each for his own peculiar
place as would be seen clearly in that day when all shall be brought
together and the glorious structure should be complete.â In the
afternoon Carrie and I went to the service again, Mr Marsh taking a
ramble to the upper glacier instead. An elderly English gentleman
however took his place in the Church so that we still counted four
beside the chaplain. I was much touched by a few extempore words of
prayer for the United States of America which the latter introduced with
much feeling into the prayer for England and her Queen. The English
gentleman above mentioned walked back to the hotel with us and we soon
fell into a talk about the glacier which he, as well as we, had visited
the day before. He declared it a most dangerous excursion, and said that
though an old traveller he would not have undertaken it had he known its
character. I canât say that it struck me so except at the ladders which
really seemed to me too frail for a stout man. At the dinner table we
met our good chaplain and his wife and my new friend, and we had a
pleasant hour together, parting like old friends instead of
acquaintances of a day.
Once more at six we were enjoying an Alpine sunrise on an Alpine
pass, and then began a race down the Gr. Scheideck to Rosenlaui. The men
who carried me literally trotted for an hour and a quarter at the end of
which time they reached Rosenlaui. How Mr Marsh and Carrie managed to
keep up I cannot imagine, but they did so. Mr Marsh said that he shook
the solid earth as he trod, and that the Reichenbachers would certainly
be dreading an earthquake. Carrie in her mountain costume, dress looped
up with a scarlet balmoral and scarlet stockings, tripped off like a
robin greatly to my admiration and envy. At Rosenlaui, besides enjoying
the beautiful clear glacier, we made great speculation in the way of
Alpine plants and flowers, and then were off again for Reichenbach. The
whole walk was a delightful one, but we saw the giant snowpeaks
disappearing one after another with a heartfelt sigh. We took the
principle fall on our way - it is fine, but I should not set it above
many other swiss falls - and we arrived at the hotel at nine, having
come down in three hours including several stops. One of these was to
see a chamois, penned up for the benefit of strangers. I thought him not
much prettier than a goat at first glance, but when he leaped up on
certain little shelves to get at his food I changed my mind, and thought
I had never seen anything so graceful. Our servants had engaged a
carriage to take us to Lucerne. A bath and a breakfast, and at half past
ten we were whirling along the valley at the most ambitious vetturino
speed. We soon began to ascend the BrĂŒnig, over which a new carriage
road has been opened this summer. The hill is long and steep and the
descent rapid, but the road good. The Alpnacher See looked most placid
and lovely, in fact the whole drive around the lake to Lucerne was
charming. The Rigi forms the most conspicuous point, but our hope of
climbing it is now small as Mr Marshâs feat in the morning cost him a
severe blister on the heel which will bear of nothing nearer the shape
of a boot than a heelless slipper. We were in Lucerne by 1/2 past 5, and
glad to look forward to one dayâs rest.
Our day of rest proves a stormy one so far as the elements are
concerned, but we are not sorry to remain quietly in the house,
particularly as we are cheered with better news from our Army. McClellan
reports victories on the 17 and some days previous. I hope he is not a
liar whatever other faults he may have. Of Garibaldi the rumors are very
conflicting though it seems probable that his wounds are doing well and
that an amnesty will be proclaimed for him and his followers. From the
Generalâs reply to a note from our Consul to in Austria - a most
improper one to be written by a man holding official relations with the
Austrian Government - it would seem he intends to go to America as soon
as he shall be released. The excitement in England shows that if
Garibaldi has acted imprudently in this last struggle for the freedom of
his Country it has only convinced the world more fully than ever of his
pure and lofty patriotism, and the enthusiasm that his name calls forth
was never so great as at this moment.
The rain which prevented us from leaving Lucerne at eight A.M. ceased
before noon, and at half past two we were on board the Stadt Mailand
steaming for FlĂŒelen. A cold northwind did much to chill our enthusiasm
for the beautiful scenery in sight from the lake, and the many points of
historical interest were looked at rather as a matter of conscience than
inclination. I think I shall better refresh my memory by referring
hereafter to my Guide than by recording my own chill impressions. This
Vier Waldstatter See seems unpropitious to us. When we passed through it
nine years ago a semi hurricane, which gave the passengers a douche
every three minutes, drove us into the little cabin below where we
meekly awaited [illegible] shipwreck. This time
the wind was less violent, but piercingly cold. The rain at Lucerne was
snow a few hundred feet higher. The lower part of the Rigi was
completely white, the upper portion being still wrapt in heavy clouds.
We reached FlĂŒelen about five, dined, and made ourselves as comfortable
as we could for the night, though the hotel LâAigle noir or LâAigle dâOr
I forget which, was none of the savouriest.
Wrapped in our storm-coats and with plenty of shawls for the higher
latitudes, we were off an hour before sunrise intending to pass the St
Gotthard today. The morning was as fine as possible only the air very
cold. The snow peaks that were still visible were gorgeous in the coming
sunrise. The Bristenstock especially struck us as most imposing and
rekindled all our zeal for mountain climbing. This huge mass of in
height seems at first to form the southern boundary of the lake and is
beautifully framed in by the two ranges that shut in the lake, or rather
the bay of Uri, on the east and west. As we drove on however we found
that it was several miles distant from the water. Sometime after sunrise
we saw the shadow of this giant mountain thrown most distinctly across
the sky. It was the first time I ever witnessed such a phenomenon though
Mr Marsh had seen it once before though I do not remember where. It was
most curious. The passage of the St Gotthard is now so frequently made
and has been so often described that, as I mean to do on all occasions
where I can, I refer myself to what abler pens have written before me.
There was nothing very peculiar in our experience Our coachman did his
duty faithfully, our hosts did their best for us at breakfast and
dinner, and we slept at Airolo as tired travellers should. As to the
scenery of the passage so far it is certainly very interesting, the
higher portions especially sublimely desolate, but what we have yet seen
of it would lead us greatly to prefer the Simplon for the grandly
beautiful and picturesque. The great marvel of the pass to us was its
wonderful engineering. The curves, the turns, the windings, the loops,
the zig-zags, the bridges of the road could only be understood or
believed by one who has actually passed over it, or by a well
authenticated model. The descent from the Hospice to Airolo must be very
trying to weak nerves and unsteady heads. Our coachman failed to point
out to us the spot where poor Magenta was thrown off the precipice and
killed last spring, but I believe it was somewhere on the north side of
the pass. The Guide constantly points out the scenes of the terrible
conflicts between the French and the Austrians and Russians in 1779 but
one cannot well make out the positions when driving rapidly and it is
only the foot pilgrim who can get a very distinct idea of them.
Finding our vetturino unwilling to undertake to reach Bellinzona
Lugano tonight, and that we must stay at Bellinzona we did not hurry off
this morning, and the sun was shining gloriously when we got into the
carriage. The scenery between Airolo and Faido gave us far more pleasure
than anything we had seen on the North side or at the summit of the
pass. It is not only grand and sublime but highly picturesque,
especially at the Dazio Grande. This is contrary to Murray who prefers
the other side (for example, near the Devilâs Bridge) and the summit. It
is quite possible that the still higher mountain passes and summits
which we had just left seen in the Oberland had left an image in our
mind that naturally diminished by comparison the grandeur of the famous
St Gotthard. We lunched at Bodio and at three oâclock P.M. arrived at
Bellinzona, a beautifully situated romantic looking old town with three
medieval castles all in picturesque positions. One of them, Murray says,
is used as a prison (the Castello Grande or San Michele) and in its
tallest tower are confined those who are condemned to lifelong
imprisonment for murder, âthe other prisoners are in chains but do not
seem unhappyâ - a remark which struck us not a little comically.
A five oâclock this morning we were already shawled and prepared to
jump into the carriage, having given very peremptory orders to our Jehn
to have his horses ready not a moment later as we wished to reach Lugano
in time for morning service at the Pension of the HĂŽtel du Parc. But no
vetturino was forthcoming Alexander stormed, had every room in the house
searched for our missing man, but nothing was to be found. A messenger
was despatched to the other hotels, the groom of the Angelo having fed
our horses, was ordered to put on the harness - all to no purpose.
Alexander muttered imprecations upon the Tedeschi through very pale
lips, and declared it would have been impossible for an Italian to be
guilty of an act so unworthy of a galantuomo. At last we became
seriously uneasy, thinking that nothing short of the watchhouse or a fit
of apoplexy could have detained him through such a hidious clang of
bells as we were suffering from, and we were debating whether it might
not be best to make enquiries of the Police when finally the worthy
Tedesco made his appearance just two hours after he had promised to be
at the stable. The poor fellow had evidently had a Rausch and looked so
crestfallen that our indignation gave way to pity. Mr Marsh said not a
word, and Alexander contented himself for the moment with saying âDio
mio, siete un galantuomo!â The culprit made no excuse, but an hour or
two after when Alexander looked a little less fierce he confessed that
he had drunk rather freely the night before and consequently slept
heavily, while the faithless cameriere had failed to wake him at four
oâclock as he had promised A pretty drive of four hours brought us to
Lugano, but too late of course for morning service. They gave us
fine
We were delighted with the frescoes of Bernadino Luini in the Church
of Santa Maria degli Angeli at Lugano. The principle scene standing
quite in the foreground is the crucifixion, but a little behind this are
represented all the chief events in the great drama of the Passion - the
crowning with thorns, the procession to Calvary, the descent from the
cross, the entombment etc, all rendered with the exquisite sentiment for
which this painter is so remarkable. The face of the Virgin with the
infant Saviour and St John in one of the chapels is most refined and
lovely. It is difficult to imagine anything more touchingly pure and
tender. There is less of the earthly in this Madonna than is to be found
even in Raphaelâs A copy of this picture was in our drawing room at the
hotel, very good as a picture and instantly recognizable as a copy, but
the face of the Virgin gives nothing of the spiritual refinement and
grace so striking in the original. Mr Marsh thinks even the original
picture has been greatly tampered with. Fortunately, for the most part,
in the drapery and about the neck of the Virgin Mother.
rooms at the HĂŽtel du Parc and a nice breakfast, and we were quite
charmed with the beauty of the lake and its vicinity. It struck us as
even finer than Lago Maggiore, and the contrast of the climate with that
of Northern Switzerland was most agreeable. A very luxuriant vegitation
gave not the least sign of frost or even autumn chills, and we sat with
open windows all day and even through the evening. At half past three we
went to the Chapel of the Pension where an English service is held every
Sunday throughout the year. The congregation consisted of eighteen
persons apparently all English except ourselves. The clergyman, whose
name we did not learn, was rather American than English in appearance.
His reading was not particularly good, but his sermon partly extemporary
proved him a scholar and a man of more than ordinary originality of
thought. He was earnest as well and left on my mind something of the
impression one gets from a sermon of Robertson. This is a noble idea on
the part of the English Colonial Society, to send clergymen to different
points on the Continent where English travellers are likely to spend
Sunday. It is not only a great thing for English and American
travellers, but in Catholic countries it gives the inhabitants an
opportunity of learning that Protestants are less paganish and
heathenish than they have been taught by their priests to believe, and I
have no doubt it will ultimately prove a wedge for the admission of
religious truth into many dark places. So far as we can judge from our
own observation the Society is careful to send abroad neither bigots nor
fools - a most discrete precaution.
Our books were again our only resource, the weather, though very
warm, being rainy and our rooms at the hotel not pleasant enought to
furnish us much amusement. We consoled ourselves by discussing now and
then the Amnesty which was published on the sixth, and the new
proclamation of President Lincoln
A letter from Mr Marsh this morning tells me that he has a
communication from Garibaldi offering his services to the Government of
the United States. When this was talked of months ago I was afraid his
presence in our Army would create dissatisfaction among our generals,
and nobody could then have foreseen how much we should suffer for want
of an able [c]ommander. Now, I rejoice in the
prospect of seeing this more than hero fighting for the cause of the
Union. Great as he has always shown himself, in the eyes of all men
capable of understanding such self-devotion, he was never so great as
now. I wish to heaven our position in Italy did not forbid us from going
to see him.
I was disappointed last night in not seeing Mr Marsh. Letters this
morning explain his detention. I hope he may come today in time for us
to sit down at the Villa dâEste before night. We are comfortable enough
here in the Angelo, only it is a pity to be on the Lago di Como and not
have a fine situation. We have noticed one custom here which I fancy
must be Lombard as I do not recollect it in any other part of Italy.
When the servant brings in the lights and places them on the table for
the evening, he always says âFelice seraâ. This is not intended as a
good night as it is said by the servant who is waiting upon you at table
and who is coming and going for the next hour, and who leaves you for
the night with âFelicissima notteâ. It is evidently intended as a good
omen for the evening and is, I dare say, connected with some
superstition which I do not know.
This is a second entry for October 10th, at the beginning of a new book.
Mr Marsh with the servants arrived soon after nine this evening,
bringing little news from Turin. American papers seem generally disposed
to sustain the President in his new proclamation, at which I am
delighted.
We went to the Cathedral this morning, enjoyed Luiniâs pictures
especially though there are many other things of interest about this
grand old pile and its decorations. I confess these old world churches
do give me immense pleasure, and I hope the taste of Protestants
generally may more and more incline them to beautify their places of
worship. Much as I have liked Luini before the Adoration of the Magi, in
this cathedral, gave charmed me more than anything of his I have ever
seen. It is very unlike most of his other works, even where it is not
superior to them. The church of San Fedele, portions of which are very
old and curious, contains no picture of interest except some frescoes by
Gaudenzio Ferrari in a very faded condition. One only gives something
like an idea of the genius of the master. Mr Marsh then paid the Prefet
(Lorenzo Valerio) a visit and we then drove out to the Villa dâEste. The
road takes us near many fine villas among them that of the Marquis
Raimondi, the The unhappy father of the false woman who played so
shameless a part toward the great Garibaldi in â59 or â60. The Villa dâE
[ste] about half an hour from Como with a
southern exposure was the residence of the wife of George IV and the
hotel still goes by the name of the âReine dâAngleterreâ. It is a
beautiful spot & the vegetation around it is almost tropical. The
most luxuriant laurels and other trees that bear little frost, large
japonicas which are left out all winter etc. I wish it was a little
nearer Turin and we should certainly then make it our head-quarters till
Spring.
We were told this morning that an English clergyman was spending
sunday here and would have morning service for such as wished to attend.
We were only too much pleased at this message and at eleven a little
company of eight were gathered in a small room adjourning the
dining-room of the hotel. The clergymanâs pretty, young wife accompanied
the singing with the piano, and after a very good sermon we separated to
meet again at seven in the evening. After the evening service we made a
little acquaintance with each other, the clergyman was Mr Galbraith on
his rea return to Bombay where he has already spent several years as a
missionary. I infer from the very youthful appearance of his wife that
they are just married, and that she is going for the first time. There
is something very impressive in this meeting of a company of strangers
to offer their homage to heaven together - strangers who have never met
before, who will probably never meet again in this world. And then we
part so like old friends - a link of a peculiar character seems formed
between us. We were much interested in Mr Galbraith and his lady-like
young wife, and when we parted for the night Mr Galbraith gave me Dr
Bonarâs hymns to look over in the morning.
Not being able to leave my bed this morning I missed a goodbye from
our new missionary friends who are to proceed on their way today. It was
quite touching to see this girl-like young creature set off for a
strange land with her husband for her only friend and companion, and
when the two stepped into the little boat that was to take them to the
steamer something like a foreboding sorrow mingled with the God-speed I
gave them. Mr Marsh took a long walk - the only circumstance that varied
the monotony of our day, the rest of it being spent in letter
writing.
As I still continue invalided and in bed and Mr Marsh brought out old
blisters again by his walk, we all stayed at home though the weather was
most tempting outside. Papers and letters from home, and the
alternations of fear and hope as to the ultimate recovery of Garibaldi
gave us matter enough to think about and talk about. The agitating
subjects that occupy us form a strong contrast with the extreme quiet of
our situation. We scarcely hear a sound from morning until night except
the gentle ripple - and even this is sometimes inaudible for hours - of
the lake against the foundation walls of the Villa. A road passes by the
back side of the Hotel but the sound of a carriage is a very rare thing
at this season when the guests here are so few, and we are too far from
the centre of the lake to here [hear] even the
steamer when they pass. pass.
I gathered up my little strength and we went out for a short row
about three oclock. We intended to pay a visit to the spring described
by Pliny, now in the grounds of a villa belonging to the princess
Belgioso, but our boatmen insisted there was not time to go so far
before evening, so we contented ourselves with skirting the eastern
shore of the lake for an hour, passing the villa of Madame Pasta, with
extensive and fine grounds, Taglioneâs villa, the famous villa Taverna,
and then recrossing to the side opposite the Taverna we returned to the
Villa dâEste passing that of the Englishman Courrier, and the Villa
Pizzo, formerly belonging to the Arch-duke Raniero, but now for sale.
The temperature was delicious, and the scenery charming. But unhappily
for us we had lived on the Bosphorus too long and knew it too well, not
to be continually contrasting this lake with it, and greatly to the
disadvantage of poor Como. The greater sinuosity of the shores of the
Bosphorus, the slope of the hills so much better calculated for
terracing and for plantations of every kind, the terraces themselves so
much loftier and grander in their mode of construction, the building is
much more picturesque, the more sombre green of the cypresses, the
majestic umbrella-pines - a tree scarcely seen in lake Como - and the
thousand gilded caiques which make the Bosphorus always look as if it
were some special holyday - but I should never have done with recalling
the marvellous beauty of that dear old home of ours. We came home at
five and found the Prefet waiting for us. He could not give any special
information about Garibaldi, but says a friend of his has just gone to
him and will bring him direct and positive news soon. We were surprised
to learn from him that he, was (the Prefet) was editor of a paper so
early as 1836, that he spent some mon months then in Florence when so
many of Italyâs greatest and best used to assemble at Vieusseuxâs. The
prefet is not quite contented in his present position and talks of
returning to Parliament.
Again our day was almost consumed by papers and letters, and the
writing consequent upon them, and we did not go out at all. At five we
went down to the table dâhĂŽte, - a thing we seldom do - and were joined
by eight or ten other guests. An English gentleman with a German wife
and sister, very nice people, were our neighbors on one hand, on the
other three Italian women, well dressed but very ill-bred. The mamma who
sat between her two daughters gave her orders to the garçon very much in
the tone in which a midshipman addresses a revolutionary sailor, and
when an English gentleman who came very late took his seat at the table
both mamma and daughters broke out into a giggle, then into loud and
long-continued laughter, their mouths being at the sme time filled with
bread etc. What was our surprise to learn afterwards that [image] these persons actually claimed to be ladies,
that they arrived in their own carriage with coachman in livery etc.,
that Madame calls herself la comtesse and is no less a person than the
wife of Franzini the president of the court of Appeals at Turin. When my
maid stated these facts on the authority of the masters of the Hotel, I
expressed my surprise to which she in turn expressed hers that I should
be surprised. âIf,â says she, âMadam could see the Marchesa Doria as I
have seen her, she would not be surprised that ladies so much her
inferiors in rank should conduct themselves as Madame Franzini and her
daughters did this [illegible] night. Had they
known that any person was at table likely to know anything about them
they would have appeared very differently.â I should be sorry to believe
that many of my gentle refined acquaintances of last winter are capable
of such demonstrations or [as] I witnessed last
tonight.
We have today another of those calm sweet days when all nature seems
in perfect rest, - such a day as one never sees except in the old age of
the year. We enjoyed it, however, only from our balcony none of us
feeling quite well. Towards evening Carrie took a stroll through the
grounds with Giachino. Our dinner company, some fifteen, was d nearly
all English - among them the clergyman, a prepossessing man, who is to
hold service at Bellaggio Sunday.
Catabene, the brother of the officer concerned in the affair of the
Tyrrol last summer, came down with a friend by the first train this
morning, sent by Garibaldi to see Mr Marsh. They propose to raise and
arm two thousand men for the service of our Government, and Mr Marsh is
to forward this proposition as made by them in writing to Washington.
Accounts from Garibaldi both by Catabene and the bulletin are far from
favorable. The latter admits there is serious cause for anxiety about
the wound, and the former is firmly convinced that the ball is still in
the foot. Catabene says he stood within four feet of Garibaldi when he
received the two wounds, that he himself drew the boot from the
Generalâs foot - the boot being still in his possession - and that both
he and Garibaldi believed from the appearance of the wound at that
moment that the ball still remained in it. Garibaldi assured the timid
young surgeon who happened to be near him, that this was the fact, and
begged him to cut it out at once. The young man, who trembled violently,
examined it in the most shrinking manner and dared not make an incision.
By the time that more experienced surgeons were called to it, the
inflamation and swelling were so great that they could not judge so
correctly as to the probable presence of the ball. Garibaldi told his
friends at once that the wound was a serious one, and thought the foot
should be taken off rather than the wound left in such uncertainty. It
is distressing to think of this great man lying dangerously wounded by
the hands of his own countrymen whose political saviour he has been. As
to our cause, I am afraid it will never have the honor of his name as
its champion, nor the strength of his arm for its defense - and yet it
seems as if the world could not do without him now. The despatches from
Berlin look equally. It is said some barricades have already been thrown
up, and that there are other demonstrations of forcible resistance to
the royal will. But in these days one does not expect much politically
from the German race. The Italian papers are thoroughly depressed in
tone. The resignation of Thouvenel and other hints from Paris have
satisfied them that the magnanimous Napoleon III does not intend to make
them a present of Rome just now. If there are new conspiracies the
French emperor at least ought not to be surprised.
Mr Marsh went to Turin this morning, We had the promise of fine
weather when he left, but the want of a boat at the best hour in the
day, and the prospect of rain later deprived us of a row on the lake
which we had planned. We had to content ourselves with letter writing
and such books as we have with us, and at six we went down to the dinner
table expecting to be quite alone. We found two gentlemen at the table
both speaking Italian, one evidently a native, the other doubtful. The
former, and extraordinary thing for an Italian, was very glum and his
companion after many persevering efforts gave him over, and tried his
neighbors of the other sex, first having waited to see of what manner of
speech we were. An animated conversation in English was the reward of
his amiable exertions; I have seldom been more amused. Our new
acquaintance made it his first object to impress us with the extent of
his travels, and I might add, of his knowledge as well. To encourage him
I threw in wherever I could an experience of my own. When he talked of
the Bosphorus, I spoke of the situation of our own residence there. When
he talked of the charms of Southern Italy, I preferred Sicily. When he
spoke of Malta I insisted that CorfĂč was far more attractive. When he
told me that it was a custom in Mexico to slit the nostrils of the
donkeys, I told him that the Arabs between Mount Sinai and Petra treated
their camels in the same way. Alas, for me, he was not to be beaten out
so. Without waiting for me to throw in anything more he told me of his
ascent of Popocatipetl, of his researches in India, of what he had seen
at Cape Good-Hope - in short in annihilated me. From foreign travel we
passes to facts; from facts to principles; and it was amusing to see
that the narrow dogmatism of the English character had in this instance
not only survived but even attained an extraordinary growth,
notwithstanding all this wide experience. As a general rule, the
Englishman who has lived some years out of England loses some of his
most offensive prejudices. Our chatty convive had carefully preserved
everything national except shyness.
We took a small boat at three this afternoon with the intention of
giving Carrie an opportunity to try her hand at rowing. There had been
some wind in the earlier morning, but the water was now very smooth in
the little bay on which our villa stands, but no sooner had we passed
out side the first point north of us - a point included in the grounds
of the Villa Pizzo, - than we found ourselves in quite a sea. Our boat
was so very small and so low in the water that I hesitated for a moment
to go further, remembering Mr Marshâs great horror of such an
embarcation when white-caps are abroad; but Carrie and Giachino looked
imploringly. The boatman smiled, and we went on dancing up and down in
quite an exciting way. At every new wave that came towards us we
expected a shower-bath, and I am afraid some of us were silently praying
for one. However we came home without accident, and but not altogether
without a touch of sea-sickness on my part. At dinner we had our
Englishman of the preceeding night, and a handsome young Milanese. The
Inglese opened a strong fire upon the Italian by overwhelming him, or
trying to overwhelm him, by the extent of his travels in Russia The
young man listened respectfully, and when at last it came his turn, he
surprised his more venerable neighbor by showing that he was not less
familiar with Russia, and that his travels there had not been less
extensive. The conversation was partly in English and partly in Italian,
and the Milanese soon convinced the Englishman that England was not less
familiar to him than was Italy to this âestimable Islander.â On the
whole the tone of the latter was decidedly less instructive than last
night, and this change did not make him less agreeable. The Franzinis,
whose ill-breeding disturbed us so much, had a table to themselves in
the dining saloon - I do no know whether because they did not like us,
or because their host had discovered that we did not like them.
The water was very smooth at 3 and we again took a little boat to
give Carrie a chance to experiment on the oar. She and Giachino rowed
nearly all the way to Como and back again - the boatman using his oars
most of the time, but rather for show than utility. As we passed a villa
on the eastern shore of the lake, I noticed two monuments at opposite
extremities of the grounds, one in the form of a Greek temple, the other
a pyramid, The boatman told us that the little circular temple was
erected over an urn containing the arm of a young lady of the family;
that the pyramid was in honor of a favorite dog. After a delightful row
we reached the Villa dâEste a few minutes before Mr Marsh and Alexander
arrived from Turin, They came by carriage from Arona and Mr Marsh was
much delighted with the views he got of Monte Rosa, the Mischabel-hörner
etc. He was quite charmed with Varese, too, with its beautiful
country-seats and gardens. He was much disturbed however, by the mode in
which the threshing is done there. In some instances he says the turf
was removed from an acre or two of ground, then the earth beaten and
rolled as hard as could well be done, & after this all the people of
the neighborhood bring there various grains to be threshed. The work is
done by hand with flails much like ours, or by the treading of oxen.
Immense heaps of wheat, rice, etc are piled up in different parts of
this roomy threshing floor & after it the grain is taken home it
must all be washed in order to free it from the sand which in this mode
of threshing must necessarily get mixed with it. A few American
threshing machines would in one day do the work which occupies so many
of these poor people for weeks and weeks. Nothing of especial interest
from Turin. There seems no chance of a house for us there, such as our
salary will permit us to take, and even the hotels are so filled that we
are not likely to be able to get apartments in any of them for the
winter
Papers and letters from America took up our morning till nearly
twelve. With some things to encourage at home there is much to depress.
Oh, if we had a Government now in power worthy of directing the heroic
energy which the people everywhere show we should soon put an end to
this most disgraceful of rebellions. But what can we hope for with such
feebleness at Washington and such men as Halleck and McClellan to
command our armies! We tried to calm our indignation on learning that
the Prince de Joinville - and he probably knows - declares that the
President and Cabinet never intended to do any thing more than blockade
and hem in the South - a policy which common sense would have shown them
could only result in an immense sacrifice of life and material to the
North with no such damage to the south as would lead to submission - we
tried to calm our indignation, I say, by turning to Old-World matters.
Mr Marsh read to me from that most curious of books, Le Neveu de Rameau,
by Diderot. It seems difficult to devine what the author intended by
this book - whether he means it as a sketch of individual character such
as was to be found in his own time, or whether there is a deeper thought
under it, namely, a bitter satire on the results of the philosophical
teachings of himself and his contemporaries. It certainly has very much
the air of a recantation, but this is a point not likely to be settled.
At any rate if this is human nature, or rather, if this is man as he was
before the French Revolution, its horrors should cease to surprise us.
We were alone at the table dâhĂŽte with the exception of our travelled
Englishman He was very full of amusing anecdotes - robberies by land and
shipwrecks by sea, - all well told and without apparent exaggeration The
His account of the accident to the Great Eastern last year was very
interesting. He says that the American engineer was entitled to the
credit of the contrivance by which the vessel was finally steered - that
though the captain insisted that it was some little gim-crack of his own
that guided her course, every man with his eyes in his head must have
been satisfied that this last was not of the least use, having no effect
whatever in directing the ship. This singular acquaintance grows more
and more of a puzzle to me He seems not only to speak many languages
fluently, but to have studied them carefully, and yet he is no scholar.
He declares he never had a headache in his life, that he never had five
minutes of low spirits in his life - in short that he is exempt from all
the ordinary ills of mortality. He is sixty two years old, dresses with
the elegance of a Brummel, never wears an overcoat, walks with the
elasticity of a man of twenty-five, sleeps out doors in the rain,
without the least inconvenience when a shelter is not at hand, and is
fully persuaded that every man, woman and child might do just as he does
if they would, and be the better for it too. Mr Gough - my maid says
this is his name - told us the history of a week spent among the robbers
in the Abruzzi. It seems he was told there was fine shooting there, and
a friend offered to give him a letter to a priest of that region with
the assurance that he would be perfectly safe if under the protection of
that good man. Accordingly he went, taking with him an abundant supply
of provisions, cooking utensils etc. & a valet skilled in the
mysteries of the kitchen. He stayed at the house of the priest who
became his guest, the shooting proved very fine, the robbers very
courteous, and when host and guest parted the tender-hearted priest fell
on the neck of his friend, and with tears, expressed his gratitude to
him, but more especially to his valet from whom he said he had learned
more than he had ever learned in his life before - âcioĂš,â he added by
way of explanation, âcioĂš delle cose utile.â
A severe sick headache which woke me before daylight kept me very
miserable through the day. I loose [lose] so
many days in bed, or what is the same thing, that I wonder the loss does
not cease to grieve me, still I find it does not. Carrie and Giachino
went out for a row, for though the weather looked dark we hardly
expected rain. But the rain came in less than an hour after they went
out, and they didnât come. We felt no anxiety for the first two hours,
but after that, the rain continuing to fall very heavily, we remembered
that they went with only a single boatman, and though the lake was as
smooth as glass and an accident seemed impossible, still it seemed
equally impossible to account for their non-appearance except from
accident. We should have sent for them, but had not the least idea in
what direction to send. No one in the house had seen them leave. Mr
Marsh walked the balcony, glass in hand, for more than an hour - it
began to grow dark and our state of mind was not enviable when
Mademoiselle made her appearance followed by the maid. The explanation
was: they went on shore at Como for some silk, while they were under the
arcades it began to rain, they didnât like to get wet, so walked about
under the arcades and ate bonbons till the âbus came and brought them
home without damage. I was obliged to accept the excuse as sufficient,
but really should myself have preferred the wetting to the fright. Mr
Marsh and Carrie had no companion at the table dâhĂŽte except Signor
Ponte of Milan. This young man has travelled extensively but nothing
that he has seen seems to have impressed him so much as English domestic
life. He says it is with shame that he contrasts it with that of his own
country, and he told Mr Marsh, as he said, with deep mortification, that
the intimate of the family formerly known as Cicesbeo was scarcely less
common in Milan today than it was fifty years ago
Still dark and disagreeable in the morning, but towards evening the
weather improved so much that we ventured down to Como where Mr Marsh
was to pay a visit to the Prefet.
We set off about ten for a climb up Monte Bisbino, although the sky
was not altogether promising. The temperature was soft as June and for
the first hour it was really too warm for walking with comfort. My poor
brute of a donkey which had set off with pretty good heart lost his
courage after before he had performed a third of his task, and it was
only by the most energetic efforts of father and son - the latter
pulling lustily at the halter, and the former kicking violently from
behind - that the unhappy creature could be induced to proceed. As it
was the motion was dreadfully spasmodic and not at all fitted for a
delicate spine. Alexander, fortunately had insisted upon getting the
half-starved beast some grain before we started, though the owner had
prophecied that he would not eat it as it had never been offered it
before. But he wasnât so big a donkey as his master took him for - he
ate the grain with the utmost greediness - luckily for me I am sure, for
without this unusual stimulant I should never have seen the top of Monte
Bisbino. We did get up at last, and safely too, and well were we repaid
for the labour it had cost us. There stood Monte Rosa with all her eight
spitzen, a most magnificent mountain-mass, and beside her the
Matterhorn, and beyong the Michable-hörner, then the Jungfrau, the
Weisshorn, the Finster-aar-horn, & &c. Most of these mountains
we had seen under more favorable circumstances before, but we have
seldom had a grander view of Monte Rosa. Glorious as the mountains were,
however, beautiful as were the lakes at our feet, - Como, Maggiore,
Varese, etc. - we could not help turning from these to gaze on the
wonderful cloud-phenomena which presented themselves around and below
us. We stood in bright sunlight about four thousand feet above Como, and
while below us rolled an ever-shifting sea of cumulous clouds, now
entirely cutting off the lakes and the plains and the cities, now
opening in wide gulfs down which the rays of the noon-day sun dropped in
dazzling splendour, now sailing off with majestic motion to the very
verge of the horizon, where they formed a new and loftier
mountain-chain, leaving the prospect below us quite unobscured - then
fresh exhalations rose as it were in a moment, at first only a soft grey
mist, then growing brighter as they grew dense till our eyes could no
longer bear to look upon their sun-like glory. For two or three hours we
watched, now the mighty chain of the Alps based on their everlasting
foundations, and now the ever-shifting clouds that sometimes seemed a
phantom-ocean heaving and surging below us, sometimes pillars of fire
rising to a height that dwarfed the loftiest summit of the true
mountains. At last we were warned to descend if we would reach the villa
before dark. It was hard to turn away, knowing that from that point
there would soon a sunset view of extraordinary character, but we had no
choice. Half an hour after sunset we were safe in our Hotel, though I
found myself dreadfully shaken by my palfrey. The boy goaded or kicked
the poor animal almost incessantly and my remonstrances produced little
effect. At last I said, âwhy do you kick and beat the donkey so? I have
already told you many times that I did not wish to go so fast, that it
hurts me when you make him start so violently.â âO Signoraâ said the
father, bisogna farlo, bisogna farlo per farghi [farsi] coraggioâ! - and it was only by showing myself
angry that I put a stop to the thumping.
We took the steamer at one P. M. for Cadanabbia, went to see the
Sommariva villa - now Villa Carlotto and then crossed over to Bellagio.
The grounds about this Villa are not extensive but in excellent order
and the magnolias the laurels, the cypresses, are superb. The glory of
the Villa, however, is the famous frieze by Thorvaldsen - the triumph of
Alexander. It is a grand work and more than answers the expectation
excited by drawings. Here are also some of Canovas best works. This
Villa was sold after the death of Count Sommariva for a smaller sum than
he had paid for the magnificent works of art it contains. It was a
bright Autumn sunset as we were crossing over to Bellagio, and we were
quite enchanted with the beauty of the lake in this neighborhood.
We had scarcely left the dinner-table last night when we were
startled by a very ominous sound below the windows of our salon. âWeâre
in for it,â said Mr Marsh with a groan that could not be called a
suppressed one. Sure enough, there they were the whole Bellagio band
twenty seven stalwart men, not to name three small boys whose shrill
pipes were not inaudible in the melody. And they were in their grandest
uniform, befeathered and besilvered in the most extravagant way, and all
to do honour to Sua Eccellenza il Ministro. What was to be done! We
hesitated for a half hour, faintly hoping they might retire. Not they!
We went out upon the balcony, bowed our thanks, had the Garibaldi hymn
the second time, sent them fifty francs, and hoped this with the
abundance of wine they were drinking would silence the, But it didnât.
They persevered heroically, and at last the leader and his first
Lieutenant came up and were introduced and made their complimenti, etc
to the great discomfiture of Mr Marsh who has an instinctive horror of
all such glorifications. Our host, by the way, justified himself for
getting up the performance by saying that they had done as much for the
French Minister and less should not be done for the American. We learned
afterwards that immediately after our arrival a man was sent through the
village with a huge brass-drum to call together the musicians, and they
must have hustled on their uniforms with a despatch worthy of a New York
fireman. We were disappointed this morning to find the lake rough and
foaming and the sky threatening rain, after such a lovely sunset. We
started however, for the Villa Serbalone, or rather for the grounds of
the Villa which occupy all the heights of the point of Bellagio. We were
not less than an hour and a half in winding up the zig-zag paths, and
under the long grottoes, & through the beautiful avenues to the top
of the hill. Nothing can be imagined more picturesquely beautiful than
the views obtained at various points from these grounds. The main body
of the lake, the two arms of Como and Lecco, the mountains, here covered
with snow, there glowing in autumn colors, the irregular shores, the
numerous villages, the countless villas - one must see to believe in
anything so beautiful. Descending from these grounds we went into the
Villa Franzini, a very expensive building not yet finished, but
extremely showy, with rooms numerous and grand enough for a court. The
person who showed us through the villa said that la Signora - the wife
of the owner - had taken a prejudice against the place and was
determined not to live in it on any consideration, than in consequence
il Signore had resolved to see it - a million of francs being the price.
It is a beautiful villa certainly, finely situated and very grand at
first view, but closer inspection shows a good many of the marble
columns to be only very excellent stucco, and the rich woods used for
the pannelling are after all but very skillfully painted imitations.
There are however some very superb pictures here that any one would be
proud to possess. A Leonardo da Vinci, or a copy too good for me to
distinguish from an original - a most exquisite portrait by Titian - and
half a dozen others by distinguished authors and of great merit. Leaving
the Villa we took a boat, and though it was raining a little, went
around the point and down the Lecco arm of the lake a mile perhaps below
the villa Giulia which belong to the King of Belgium. The weather was so
threatening that we were obliged to turn back here, and content
ourselves with having seen so much of this most fairy like scenery. At
three we took the steamer for Villa dâEste being dismissed by our
enterprising host with a salute that waked many a wonderful echo among
the wild hills. The hotel is certainly one of the most comfortable that
can be imagined, and reasonable too, which is saying a good deal for
European hotels now-a-days.
We arrived here last night, the rain having goodnaturedly stopped
long enough for us to pass from the steamer to the villa in a small
boat, slept, and were off this morning between 9 and 10 for Milan -
weather still bad - which we reached at 1, P.M., installed ourselves
with old papa Bruschetti and got off to the Cathedral as soon as
possible. Here we had a glorious two hours, and having tired ourselves
out with better things we took Carrie into the treasury, and afterwards
down into the Chapel of San Carlo to see his mummy and the boundless
wealth lavished upon it. Poor man! if he could speak he would tell them
better. From the Cathedral we drove around the ramparts and out to the
Arch erected by Napoleon to commemorate the completion of the Simplon.
We were glad to see that the lying inscription of the emperor of Austria
had been erased from the beautiful Arch. It was quite dark before we
could make up our minds to go back to our hotel.
We set out for Turin in a pouring rain at one oâclock having spent
the morning delightfully at the Brera, brushing up fading memories of
former pleasant visits here. We reached Turin after dark, and the
confusion and crowd at the Station were worthy of New York - bating the
impudence of the Irish there. Our old rooms at the Grande Britagne were
ready for us, and we should have felt very comfortable but for the
thought of the case chaos where our traps are stored, and the direful
necessity of plunging into it.
Friends begin to run in notwithstanding the rain. Giachino and Carrie
went down to the Legation to explore boxes. Mr Clay tells me a second
brother of his has turned traitor. Truly it seems if there were not Lots
enough left to save our Sodom. The Tottenhams give an amusing account of
the intrigues going on around poor Garibaldi - quarrels of doctors,
quarrels of nurses, quarrels among visitors. Poor Mrs Stanley it seems
has come to an open rupture with her dear ten thousand fashionable
friends here, on the subject of the hero at Spezzia. Last winter the
codini were not bold enough to quarrel with her for her undisguised
admiration of this man of his age, but now things look brighter for the
reactionists, the benighted Aristocracy holds up its head again, and Mrs
Stanley has been taunted with her romantic friendship till the proud
spirit of the English-woman has been thoroughly roused, and she declares
she will have no more to do with them. Mr Marsh found here a copy of the
recall of the Austrian consul Canisius who undertook to re-enact, in a
less justifiable manner, the performance of one Quiggle, and Cordee, his
wife.,
I went to Church this morning - I am ashamed to say for the first
time in Turin. Some chairs have been brought into the little room where
the English Church assembles and it will now be possible for me to go
frequently, I hope. Mr Clay and Mr Artoni dined with us.
Mr Marsh came home from an attempt to extract some of his books from
the dark deep in which they are buried, quite hopeless, and almost ill
at having no prospect of anything like a home this winter.
We were delighted by the appearance of Mr Botta this morning fresh
from New York via Paris. He looks so well, and seems in very good
spirits. I hope he may do something towards advancing public opinion
here a little in the right direction. We secured him at dinner and had
plenty to talk about. The proprietor of the improved piano with
attachment, gave us a musical treat this afternoon. The young Neapolitan
performer really did miracles, and when he played the Garibaldi hymn he
really verily seemed inspired. The de Bunsens encourage us in the Pegli
project. They think Turin will be well nigh intolerable this winter for
anybody obliged to take part in its so-called gaieties.
The Blatchfords arrived this morning on their way to Rome. Mrs
Blatchford I rank among the first of my country-women, and if we must
have a Ministress of Rome I rejoice that we have one with brains enough
to save her from the danger of being be-blarnied by the priests of that
unhappy city. Still even she may be caught, for the charmer charms
wisely - or at least cunningly. A visit from the young Kossuths reminded
me of our experience for the last two nights. Unearthly sounds, very,
had proceeded from the room next to us through all the early part of
Monday night. On enquiry we found the occupant was a certain prince who
claims to be the true heir to the crown of Hungary. Mr Marsh says he
intends to ask Mr Pulszky about him, and to enquire of him if he has
been here to knock head to King Arpad - also he proposed to enquire for
Queen Libusse. Last night being roused from my first sleep by a
repetition of the awful sounds of the night before I said: âThat must be
a genuine king, he is not of our race.â âYes, yes,â answered Mr Marsh,
âhe is a real âun, thatâs certain. He must be man by day and horse by
night! Now I understand where Swift got his name of Hounyhms - it comes
from Hun -. Now I understand too, what Lamb means by a horse-belching
fellow.â Mr Botta and Dr Demarquis Demarchi made us a visit, then came
Mrs Solvyns, from whom I learned rather an amusing piece of poetical
justice. The Countess Ghirardi who in a most un-lady-like way broke her
engagement with us about her house in the expectation that we would
accede to her demand for increased rent, allowed the princess de
Saulmses [Solms] to take possession after we
left on promise of paying 2000 frs. for fifty days. The fifty days
having expired Mme. la princesse refuses to pay, and what is worse,
refuses to vacate. The house, Mrs S. says, is in the most complete
disorder, and the Countess Ghirardi is desperate. Is it wicked, I
wonder, to rejoice over such misfortunes?
At five 5.40 P.M. we were steaming by rail towards Genoa, but we did
not arrive there till 10.30, an hour later than we had expected. Our
rooms at the HĂŽtel de lâItalie are very pleasant. A charming terrace on
which our windows open would give a fine view of the sea were it not for
the line of arcades extending the length of the street, and directly in
front of the terrace. The air is soft and balmy as the poetsâ May, and
as I sit before the windows thrown wide open the butterflies are
hovering gaily round the flowering shrubs that give no indication of
approaching winter. Mr and Mrs Valerio came in about eleven and Madame
stayed a couple of hours after her husband left. She complains bitterly
of loneliness and does not give one a very favourable idea of Genoese
society generally. She pleases me upon the whole very much though I
fancy there is more of the impulsiveness of the artist than the
self-control of the philosopher about her. She is not more sanguine as
to home-prospects than we are. Our little friend Consul Wheeler dropped
in just as we were sitting down to dinner, and accepted our invitation
to be Carrieâs vis-Ă -vis during that ceremony. He seems quite happy, and
I think is very grateful to us for not letting him run home last winter
in a fit of home-sickness. We were broken up by the announcement of the
carriage to take us to Pegli. It was about five when we set out - a
magnificent sunset was going on - one of those marvelous exhibitions of
crimson sky, dark clouds with golden hems and linings of flame waving
out among the trailing folds - such as one seldom sees except by the
sea-side with mountains not far off. While Mr Marsh and I were lost in
admiration of the western sky Carrie, whose face was turned to the east,
uttered an exclamation. We looked back. There stood the full moon, just
above the promontory on which the light-house stands, two black bars of
cloud across its silver face, and a half halo of the fleeciest clouds
that looked like sea-foam arched above it. The sea was so still that we
saw no motion on its surface, and heard no dash against the shore. Our
road took us sometimes into a little open tract, sometimes through
suberbs of the city as closely built as the city itself., Sometimes we
crossed the railroad, sometimes we passed under it, sometimes we drove
beside it for a mile, and two or three times the fiery hissing demon of
a locomotive with its interminable train went thundering by us, or over
us, and contrasted most strangely with the exquisite quiet of sky and
sea and mountain. Soon after six we were looking from the windows of
what will probably be our home for the next three months. There was a
slight swell just audible and the surface of the water was just broken
enough to give a little of that moonlight sparkle which always makes the
deep less awful. Our first impressions of the house are pleasant.
The sunrise this morning - I am ashamed to say I did not see it - Mr
Marsh says was gorgeous beyond description. We are vexed to find a huge
great shabby palace diagonally across the way from us which cuts off
quite a slice of our prospect eastward. Husband threatens to order it to
be pulled down and put in the bill. On the west, too, we are somewhat
cut off, and do not see as much of the Riviera as I hoped. Still the
view is very grand and beautiful, and I went to sleep last night to the
soft delicious music of the surf with a feeling of peace quite
indescribable. This morning it is perfect summer. We have our windows
all open, and the ladies who pass us through the corridor are in lawns.
This afternoon we went to the Pallavicini gardens, the chief wonder of
the neighborhood. They are very beautiful certainly. For the most part
they occupy a hill of considerable extent and elevation, luxuriantly
planted, and provided with walks, seats, rustic cabins, thatched sheds,
marble temples, arches, imitations of old castles, Turkish kiosks,
specimens of Greek, Egyptian, Chinese and Persian architecture, water
falls, precipices, bridges - in short everything that wealth and fancy
can contrive. Perhaps the most remarkable thing to be seen here is an
artificial grotto of great extent. The stalactites and stalagmites of
which it is almost entirely composed were brought from Sicily and other
still more remote coasts. They are put together very skillfully &
nature of already helping to perfect this fraud upon herself, for she is
forming new genuine stalactites everywhere, hanging them down from the
roof & building up the little stalagmites below them. Through
several of the galleries of this grotto one must pass in a boat, and the
custode wished us a buon viaggio with well assumed gravity, as we were
rowed off into the river, down which we were lighted by small torches,
not to degrade them with the name of rush-lights. We came out at last
upon quite a little lake with a temple of Diana in the center, which
contained a fine statue of the godess herself. Four sea-gods also in
fine white marble rose above the water, some blowing in shells, others
holding them, etc. We were told that if we would wait a little these
sea-deities would play off certain antics for us - such as dashing water
at each other, and at us, too, perhaps, but we were obliged to hurry on.
We passed down through avenues of orange trees, literally loaded with
the fruit just beginning to turn yellow. And [illegible] beyond this avenue, and nearer the village
was another of young ilex. We were puzzled to know why the trunks of
these young trees were carefully wound from the roots to the branches
with a thick rope. Mr Marsh asked the custode, and was told that these
trees had been planted only a year or two, and that to prevent the sun
from drying them up, this rope was kept constantly wet, through the
summer months. In this way there was no danger that the tree would die.
At the table dâhĂŽte we found a very pleasant English family, from whom
we were happy to learn that a good Italian teacher was to be had
here.
I was richly compensated for being obliged to keep my bed today, by
the most magnificent sunset I remember ever to have seen. It would be
worse then idle to attempt to describe it. A flame-like bank of red
rested on the sea and the promontory to the west, and above it stretched
several long slender bars of cloud of inky blackness. This red was
shaded off, almost imperceptible passing from one colour to another,
till all was terminated in a rich golden green that extended almost to
the zenith. The sea itself looked almost black on its horizon - then
came the rich wine-colour which the old Greeks speak of but the force of
which epithet I never felt before. The rest were at dinner and missed
the glorious sight.
We were expecting the Wheelers from Genoa all day, but they did not
come, and we had a quiet day all to ourselves. The weather is still as
fine as possible. Last night we heard the sound of chanting in the
principal passage, and the little bell which told the presence of the
host. We were a good deal surprised, for though we knew that the son of
Don Luigi Gonzaga was ill in the house yet, as he was at the table
dâhĂŽte only two or three days ago we had no idea of his being so llow
This morning I learned that the poor young man died at two. His father,
who for some time pasted has been spending his days with his dying wife
at Genoa, and his nights with his son here, returned at six last evening
having closed the motherâs eyes at four, to close those of her child so
few hours after. Both mother and son died of consumption. An older
brother went in the same way a few months ago, and the half-dozen
children remaining are said to be threatened with the same dreadful
malady. They are from Milan or its vicinity where the climate in winter
is scarcely better than in our own North.
We tried to begin work in earnest today though I was still confined
to my bed. A card from the Duchesse de la Force asking when she could
see me proves that even in Pegli one is not out of the world. Mr Marsh
did his first dayâs work on his new book - twelve pages.
We had no interruptions today, and managed to get on a little in
laying out plans of study particularly for Carrie. I was able to go down
to dinner which I was glad of as we have made friends with a nice
English family - Mr & Mrs Tebbs and daughter - who are always at the
table. Yesterday the Rev. Mr. Strettle Strettell and wife, from Genoa -
(he is the English clergyman there) - dined here, and Mr Marsh liked
them very much. I missed them from not being able to go down.
Mr Marsh lost a part of his morning from interrup interruptions. A
bright-eyed lively little carpenter brought home a bookcase which had
been ordered the other day, and a capital peice [piece] of work it was. The poor fellow was very proud
of his handy-craft and well might be. The inhabitants of Pegli are most
industrious, and the only case of beggary we have seen here was - a
single instance - a poor blind boy. The fishermen do out in the night
when the sea is so rough that it makes one tremble to look after them.
The sound of the carpenters hammer often wakes us before four in the
morning. Just on the short before our windows there is a busy scene. The
fishermen are mending and spreading out their nets, the ship-carpenters
are repairing old smacks and making new ones, and the little children
too young for school, or just let out for play, are frolicking on the
beach and allowing the surf to break over them with shouts of delight.
Mr Marsh and Carrie have had and opportunity to watch the process of
fishing, to see them pull out the fish entangled in the nets, sometimes
taking the head of the fish in their mouths while they used both hand to
extricate it from the net. The larger ones they spear. Last night we saw
the boats going out just after a violent thunderstorm in a very high
sea. This morning we learned that a man lying in an unfinished boat at
Sestri was killed by the lightning, an a companion by his side so
injured as not to be expected to recover. The boat was shattered to
splinters, and the iron bolts used in its frame-work were melted like
wax. The storm was very violent though short, and there was no interval
between the blinding flash and the crashing peal. This evening Signor
Fessali Campazzi, - one of Garibaldiâs ex-priests, but without ex-nun
attached - came in to make arrangement for giving Carrie lessons. He is
intelligent and earnest and we consider him a decided catch in Pegli
where we hardly looked for a master. The Tebbses came in later, and we
had quite a lively little party. Mrs Tebbs had been much amused by some
Italian ladies who passed some weeks here. They were without their
husbands as Italian ladies generally are, and after observing for
several days that Mr & Mrs Tebbs sat down to the table regularly
together, walked together, went out in the boat together etc. they said
very naĂŻvely: âDo you always stay with your husband?â Mrs Tebbs replied
that she had been married thirty two years, and that of course during
that long period separations had sometimes been unavoidable, but they
had been rare, and were always very painful both to herself and husband
when they became a necessity. The Marchese received this statement with
an astonishment that would have been overwhelming had it not been
relieved by a little scepticism as to its truth.
The weather continues dark and windy with occasional showers, but the
thermometer does not go below 66 Fahr., though the distant mountain tops
on our right are thickly sprinkled with snow which is also said to have
fallen in the plain about Alessandria. The sea is an unfailing source of
interest to us, not less in these days of cloud and wind than it is in
calm sunshine. The lights and shadows, the camelian [chameleon]-like colours are infinite, and perpetually
changing. Sometimes a change in the wind drives the waters out of the
bay, seeming to scoop out deep basins, or piling up long ridges till the
whole surface of the sea looks like a rolling prairie. We watched the
fading light this evening almost till we could see no longer, and every
instant there was a change to wake fresh interest. It seems to me one
could never feel lonely by the sea-side. Our table companions told us at
dinner many nice little anecdotes of persons whom we know by reputation,
and they personally - such as Miss Marsh &c -
The day did not tempt any of us out though the rain seems to be over,
and we worked busily all day. In the evening Signor Campazzi came to
give Carrie a lesson, and stayed with us till ten. He is a good talker
and promises well as a teacher. He excited Mr Marshâs curiosity a good
deal about the mountain which is now sliding down from time to time a
little beyond Voltri. Today the frana, or slide, has cut off the road
for the second time within a month. We shall drive out to look at it
soon - Mr Tebbs, who came in alone for a few minutes, brought some most
exquisite painting, of flowers done from nature by Mrs Tebbs. I have
never seen any thing of the kind more perfect both in drawing and
colour, and what surprised us most is that Mrs Tebbs had not painted a
flower for more than thirty years until this summer -
Mr Marsh went back to Turin this morning and Carrie and I worked hard
at Italian the rest of the day. The weather was charming, but the sunset
less splendid than usual here.
I sent Carrie to church, Mr & Mrs Tebbs having kindly offered to
take her with them to Genoa., and I had five hours quite alone by
myself, which I enjoyed with that keen relish which we sometimes have
for entire solitude. After her return she read to me Robertsonâs sermon
- The Irreparable Past. - a sermon I knew well before, but which, like
all his sermons, always suggests some fresh vein of thought. Just as we
went down to dinner the sound of a band announced the approach of a
procession which we had been told was to come off today in honor of San
Martino, who, it seems, has particular affection for Pegli. I was not
disposed to rise from the dinner-table to look at the show, having found
these processions generally as like to each other âas my fingers is to
my fingers,â but was glad afterwards that I was persuaded to do so.
There was an immense crowd in the street as far as we could see towards
the village of Pegli and towards Voltri. They opened for the procession
which was headed from by a band from Genoa. Immediately after came San
Martino in the person of the son of Michel the innkeeper, - riding a
white horse and carrying a very terrible looking sword which he lifted
from time to time as he harangued the gaping crowd. Then followed
banners and a great company of fishermen with white cloth folded about
the head, white drapery thrown entirely over them, to which was added a
rich cape of crimson velvet embroidered with gold, or what was to look
like it. Then came the car containing the image of San Martino also on
horseback and sword in hand while a huge angel winged and gilded, seemed
floating just behind and above him, and half a dozen cherubs or more
were grouped around the saintly warrior. The wind was too strong for the
wax lights to burn well, but the crowd were delighted with with the
show, and evidently very proud to have strangers witness it. The car was
followed by another long line of fishermen dressed as before, and
interspersed with huge crosses and crucifixes, & lanterns carried on
poles wreathed with flowers, &c&c. It was said, I do not know
with what truth, that there was not a priest in the procession, and a
poor French maid who is staying here, and who went without her dinner in
order to get to the church in time for the benediction returned greatly
disappointed having missed the blessing she expected because there was
no priest there to bestow it. I fancy there must be some mistake about
this, as it would be a strange thing if there were actually a dearth of
priests on such an occasion. The good people here tell us that this
festa used to be celebrated every year, but it was so expensive that it
was finally settled to have it only once in twenty five years which is
now the rule. As I watched the bearers of the crosses and the crucifixes
staggering under their load, and was expressing my pity for them, a
resident said to me: âEvery one of those men pays several francs for the
privilege of bearing that burden.â The whole procession stopped a long
time before the windows of the Duchess de la Force, the band playing all
the while in compliment to her for having contributed 40 frs. to the
festa. She sent them wine etc. and when they went back from the Church
they repeated the flattering attention. In fact her ladyship was
scarcely less the hero of the occasion than San Martino himself. As I
sat down again to the dinner-table I could not help contrasting this
poor attempt to make a gorgeous display with the glory of the sunset
which I had been watching with awe a half hour before. After dinner Mr
Tebbs sent in to me a very interesting letter from Father Felix - alias
Rev. Mr Varnier, who has been for eight years a missionary of the Church
of England in India. He wishes most earnestly to be permitted by the
Society to come to Italy and devote himself to enlightening the priests
and the laity of his native country. I hope they will be wise enough to
accede to his request. Whatever is done for the Italians in the way of
giving them religious truth will be best done by Italians
themselves.
One of the most delightful Autumn days conceivable. The thermometer
stood all day at nearly 70 in our drawing room without fire and with the
sun half excluded on account of the overpowering light. Books and
battledore filled up the day for us, Giachino performing my part at the
latter - Signor Compazzi gave Carrie a two hours and a half lesson which
he enlivened with many a benissimo, and when she left the room he told
me confidentially that the Signorina had a memoria di ferro. The good
man retains much of the sing-song of the priestly chant, and I could
hardly keep my countenance when he read portions of the lesson in that
way.
Mr Marsh returned soon after three P.M. but, before I had time to
really welcome him, the Duchess de la Force came in, and did not leave
me for an hour. She looked much better in her hat & morning-dress,
than when I saw her last winter in full dress at a ball. The impression
she made on me was, that she is a very [illegible] amiable, vain woman, fond of fashion, most
ready to serve others even the humblest, devoted to gaiety and yet happy
alone - a combination not reconcilable with an over-strong head. On the
whole I liked her much better than I expected & I dare say we shall
get on well as neighbors. Great allowance ought to be made for a woman
married before she was sixteen, left a widow with 2 sons before she was
nineteen, afterwards married to a French Duke with whom she lived 15
years in Paris, & was then left again a widow with an immense
fortune which she must spend somehow - she thinks. Mr Marsh saw many
persons in Turin, and on the whole has the impression that the Ministry
will be overthrown, though great efforts will be made to save it. He was
much pleased be a very graceful act on the part of the government
towards the United States. They request that the unlucky consul at
Vienna who wrote such an improper note to Garibaldi, and whom Mr Seward
recalled at once, should be restored to his place. They say it was no
doubt a thoughtless act not intended to give offense to, or to injure,
the kingdom of Italy, and therefore would be gratified to have the
President overlook it. There seems as little chance as ever of getting a
house in Turin. Everything is filled up, and the crush will be greater
as the season advances. The weather was very cold there Mr Marsh finding
a fire necessary throughout the whole day.
Mr Marsh saw both Kossuth and Pulszky. The former full of theories as
ever, very interesting, but not very likely to realize any of his own
projects; the latter cheerful and unconcerned, laughing at his late
arrest, receiving indirect apologies from the Ministry, and equally
indifferent to their favour or disfavour. Kossuth seems to have
recovered himself somewhat from his affliction for the loss of his
daughter, and from the anxiety he has suffered on account of his wife
who has lately undergone a severe surgical operation from which she is
getting up again -
Here, on the contrary, we have the thermometer from 66 to 72. and a
glorious sun instead of the torrents of rain now falling in Piedmont and
Lombardy - It begins to look as if last winter was indeed an exceptional
season as we were so often told. Poor Mrs Stanley came to see Mr Marsh
and poured out her grievances at the hands of the Turinese codini, and a
good many other curious gossipings about Garibaldi. She thinks there are
regular spies about him - one in the person of a woman who has
ingraciated herself into the good will of Vecchi, and who in this way
gets constant access to the General, gets him to sign papers under a
false impression as to their contents, betrays every thing she hears and
in fact is very mischievous. Mrs Stanley is herself half inclined to go
to Pisa and make an effort to oust this dame, but I hope she will not.
There are already elements of discord en enough about the great invalid
and it would take a steadier head and a juster insight than our friend
in Turin possesses, to mend matters. The de Limas are recalled, for
which personally we are very sorry. They are amiable warm-hearted
people, very agreeable socially, but their political sentiments are so
very reactionary that they are looked upon with a suspicion by all
friends of progress, and it is even hinted that they have been recalled
at the suggestion of the Italian government, though I greatly doubt if
this has any foundation. Our friend Botta met with a much more cordial
reception from his old acquaintances than we anticipated for him, or he
for himself. He has a scheme for getting up a liberal university at
Florence, and has already recve received much encouragement from very
influential quarters. A priest of high position has furnished him with a
list of the liberals in his own profession, who would be glad to be
useful to him, and on this list is the name of one of the leading
Franciscans of Piedmont and three of his brethren. The stir among the
Italian clergy is certainly extraordinary, and Father Passagliaâs ten
thousand signatures may ultimately prove as important a step on the road
to Rome as the Emperorâs late conduct has seemed a discouragement.
Captain Thatcher came in to Genoa yesterday with the Constellation,
and he will probably pass most of the winter there. Mr Marsh was
interrupted this morning by a visit from Agresti the Sicilian who claims
redress, as an American citizen, for having been arrested during the
late troubles, and released only on condition of leaving the island. I
had heard nothing of his case; and as Mr Marsh treated him with some
impatience, and he himself never for a moment forgot to be perfectly
respectful and retained his self-possession to admiration, I could not
help feeling a good deal of sympathy for him. His quiet and deferential
manner forced Mr Marsh to soften his refusal to interfere by saying that
he would send a statement of his case to the State Department for
instructions. After he left I said I could not help being sorry for the
poor fellow. Mr Marsh smiled: âMy dear child, he is a most notorious
scoundrel. He fled to America because he had committed a murder in
Sicily, stayed there long enough to be naturalized, has now returned and
expects impunity for all fresh rascalities on the ground that he is an
American citizen.â Then I smiled too, and said: âWell, he disarmed you
by his self control and his civility.â - âYes, I could not treat the
fellow as he deserved when he was behaving so much like a gentleman -
besides he fought bravely in the Mexican war, and I have no wish to
deprive him of the right of citizenship, though if he were twice an
American the Italian government would be justified in punishing him for
offenses against itself.â Carrie took a long walk with the Tebbses and
Signor Campazzi, but tempting as was the soft beautiful sunshine I could
not get Mr Marsh out. The Italian lesson went off nicely in the
evening.
A day so like yesterday within and without as hardly to admit a
distinction. The intervals of rest from work were filled up with
lamentations over the late Democratic victories at home, the death of
Gen. Mitchell and all the other discouraging facts that come to us from
America. The âgeneral contemptâ shown for the President by these
elections is certainly justified by the history of the last two years -
, but I wish it could have been shown in some other way. The Strettells
made us a visit this morning - then the walkers walked. We dined, and
the Tebbses - good saints that they are - spent a part of the evening
with us. -
This morning my maid told me that while we were all in Turin at the
Grande Bretagne about the 1st of November two English ladies with an
English maid were there at the same time. The maid was very friendly to
her, (Giachino) and one day asked her if Alexander was not a courier,
and if he would not be willing to go with her ladies to Naples - they
were very anxious to go by land to without passing through Rome.
Alexander declined going of course, but directed them as well as he
could by way of Ancona. It turns out that these ladies were Mrs Bishop
the unhappy mother of the young man lately so justly condemned in Naples
to ten years imprisonment, and Mrs Cramp, a friend of hers. Mrs Bishop
was very desirous of getting an audience of with the King, but, as
everybody knew the king would immediately pardon the young man who had
already been treated with far too great leniency, it was managed to
prevent it. I am sorry for the poor father and mother, but so atrocious
a case as a young Englishmanâs carrying comfort and supplies to a gang
of brigands, and having still broader schemes with him for overturning
the government ought not to be passed over without punishment. It is
said the answer Mrs Bishop received was that the King would pardon her
son as soon as he was seated in his capital, Rome. Whether this was from
the King or one of the ministry is disputed. We are still in doubt as to
the fate of the Rattazzi g Cabinet, but it is generally thought it will
go down.
We expected Mrs Valerio all day, but the evening brought a note to
say she could not come till Wednesday. The thermometer has fallen to 64,
but Miss Tebbs brought us in from her walk several bits of myrtle shrub
with charming buds and flowers, looking very summer-like. Mr Marsh
worked as usual at his book, then took a long walk, Carrie and I drudged
away at Italian by way of preparing for Signor Campazzi, after which she
tried a solo at battledoor. We were very dull in the evening - I fancy
in consequence of a dreadfully dull lesson fron from our Professore who
staid so late last evening that I quite lost my patience. I
The sea, which last evening began to shew some signs of perturbalion,
discoursed grand music all night. At early day-light we heard anxious
voices on the beach, and on going to our window, we saw a number of men
and one woman working away with desperate energy at a pile of brick
which the angry surf was fast undermining. We had watched the wearisome
unloading of this brick from a sloop yesterday. There being nothing like
a wharf here, a long board was placed, one end on the shipsside, the
other in the water, - on the lower end of this, and at [illegible] a right-angle to it, was placed another
board which reached quite to the shore. One man piled the brick into a
basket which he handed to a second standing at the shipâs side, the
second passed it to a third standing on the first board, the third to a
fourth at the angle where the two boards met, the fourth to a fifth who
piled up the contents quite high on the beach. Hour after hour they
toiled on in this way, and the result of their labour was three huge
heaps of brick at different levels, but all apparently quite out of the
reach of the water. This proved to be a mistake, - the lowest heap was
now in great danger of being swept away, and our sympathy for the poor
creatures who were trying to save it diminished the pleasure we should
otherwise have felt from the scene before us. Wave after wave was
rolling in with great volume and velocity, sharpening in form as they
approached the shore, till their crests, thinned out to a transparent
green, broke off partly in clouds of spray, partly in sheets of leaping,
curling foam that was climbing higher and higher up the beach. Sometimes
the long billows followed each other so close that they seemed to rise
one above another like the seats of a gigantic amphitheatre, then, all
at once, they would break as it were together, spreading out a sea of
foam that boiled far up the beach, and played around the knees of the
poor brick-savers, snatching the bricks from under their very hands. We
watched the work with lively interest for a long time, and when called
to breakfast, had the satisfaction of seeing nearly all the lower heap
safe, and no probability of any danger to the two others, the lowest of
which, even, we thought there would be no occasion to remove. Before we
rose from the table, however, the roar of the surf seemed to redouble,
the shouts of the fishermen increased, and on going to the window, we
were not a little astonished to see the second pile of brick over-washed
by every great wave, while as many as could get round it were boldly
disputing the prey with the sea. Of the contending parties it was hard
to believe the one was not as conscious as the other. Now a huge billow
would come up directly abreast and topple off several layers from the
heap, the next would curl round and make a channel for itself, so quite
surrounding it, a third would carry away a portion of earth from beneath
it, and so tumble hundreds of the brick into the sea, to be picked up
again, if possible, by some bold, strong boy, who watched for a moment
of partial respite and then dashed into the surf. At last a master-wave
came booming on, rolled in full volume over the pile, snatched the full
baskets from the hands of the carriers, swallowed up their contents and
then floated off the baskets themselves far beyond the reached of even
the most daring. At first I feared some of the boys had been swept off
too, but fortunately it was not so. In the mean-while another scene of
activity, no less animated, was going on, Several hundred persons - men
women and boys - were engaged in dragging up out of the reach of the
furious surge the twenty or thirty fishing smacks that had been left
last night quite out of danger as was supposed. The sea however was now
foaming around them and even breaking over some of the smaller ones, and
there was evidently no safety for them except in drawing them quite
across the road. Some were pulling at the hawsers, some were pushing at
the stern, themselves half buried in the waves, others were trying to
save the oars and light spars that were every now and then snatched
unexpectedly from a point that had hitherto seemed out of the reach of
the enemy. A sloop of considerable size, which, on account of the
threatening appearance of the weather last night, had been drawn up the
beach much higher than her usual mark, was now completely surrounded
every time the surf rolled in, and the most energetic efforts were
making to drag her up still higher. A dozen men were at work at a
capstan placed in the middle of the street, others were laying down
slapers on which she might slide, others were watching eagerly to
recover these timbers as one or more would be carried off by every great
wave that broke against the ship, and now and then a poor fellow threw
up his arms with a cry of pain when he was some precious oar or spar or
paddle carried off quite beyond his reach. Our attention had been
diverted from the brick by this new excitement, but was soon recalled to
it by a fresh alarm. A mighty wave came thundering in, and, at a single
bound, leaped over the third pile, and though it carried away none of
the brick the poor labourers saw that it must be instantly removed âlest
a worse thing should come upon it.â Again they set to work, and with
many a recruit, too. But the case seemed a desperate one, almost every
wave that rolled in either surrounded or overflowed the heap, and the
men could scarcely stand up against the shock of the foaming surf. We
longed to go down and help them - in fact the our excitement was greater
than one could imagine to be caused where there was so little at stake.
Mr Marsh said he would willingly pay for the brick if the poor fellows
would give up the fight - but this would not have satisfied them, they
were determined to be conquerers. Two boats were now placed so as to act
as a break-water, and, partially protected in this way, the men worked
to more advantage, and in an hour nearly all the brick were lying safe
above the road. The sloop was brought up so high as to be safe secure
from thumping, and the fishing smacks were nearly all drawn across the
road, and most of the men and women went home - I hope to comfort
themselves with dry clothes and a breakfast. Now came the time for the
younger boys, and glorious sport they had. Some little fellows of five
or six sat down in the stern of the boats nearest the water, and looked
out upon the roaring foaming sea with the gravity of old philosophers. I
longed to know their thought. Others drew hasty lines with a stick on
the beach where the water had fallen back for a moment, and after the
next surge ran down to see if the mark had disappeared. Here one would
plant a stout branch in the sand, calling to his fellow to bring a stone
to fix it more firmly, and then watch to see if the next wave would
carry it off. Sometimes they seemed to find a shell - a rarity on this
coast - and this was pocketed with no small triumph. At other times the
little fellows would wait, low down on the beach, to receive the shock
of the in-coming surf, and I trembled with the expectation of seeing
them overthrown and swept away. They however were experienced enough not
to risk too much, and always beat a rapid retreat at the sight of the
largest waves. I found the window so attractive that I could not leave
it during the whole day. Wrapt in my shawl and pillowed up in a high
chair I sat all day watching, now the great waves as they rolled up the
beach just before the house, now the still longer ones at the right left
hand in front of the village, now those that broke against the old
castle-wall to the right, and the still wilder foaming and leaping and
dancing of those that struck the rocks a little farther on in the
direction of Voltri. There was another feature in the scene that gave me
scarcely less pleasure than the majestic roll and roar and dash of the
[illegible] sea - the exquisite and every
varying colour of the its surface. Sometimes the horizon-line, - now
very irregular by reason of the great troubling of the deep - was of a
dark wine-colour, and within, of a more bluish purple, then a pale pure
green, then a band of faintest rose. Sometimes these colours were so
shaded, or rather graduated, the one into the other that the eye could
not distinguish where the one began, and the other ended - at other
times the line that divided them was as distinct as sudden contrast
could make it The arrangement and intensity of these colours depended
upon the position of the sun, the greater or less density of the clouds,
and the force of the wind, and they were, of course, perpetually
changing. When the increasing twilight prevented me from seeing longer,
I left my window saying to myself: âwho could ever feel lovely beside
the great and living seaâ!
Little change in the weather, - which kept us at the window half the
day, to the great detriment of work - till towards evening. Then the
wind rose and the waves came in with renewed fury. The fishermen came
out now and then to see that all was snug, but the human interest of the
scene was less than yesterday. By ten P.M. the roar of the sea was
really terrific, and we expected to see the whole road overflowed in the
morning.
Things were quieter this morning, and on looking out to see what
mischief had been done in the night we were surprised to find that the
sea had thrown up in its violence a high rampart of pebbles and large
stones, so as completely to protect the road against its own assaults.
Around the old castle and to the west of it the waves rolled up as high
as ever, but just before our house they could no longer climb above the
rampart of their own erection. One philosophical observation I have made
during this storm. The genus puer as seen in Pegli corresponds precisely
with that found in the State of Massachusetts where I was born. The
proofs of this were numberless, but the one which struck me most was the
performance of two or three youngsters, one of whom - ten years old
perhaps - having provided himself with an old carpenterâs-hatchet
watched his opportunity when he was unobserved by the âold folksâ to dig
vigorously under the bank which the sea was already fast undermining.
His companions in mischief stood on the bank above, and by energetic
stamping broke off great masses of earth thus underminded. In this way
they managed to hurry the work of destruction very considerably, and one
poor fisherman was obliged to make another move with his boat, the
little promontory of earth on which it rested being completely melted
away by the help of these little rascals. - We had a grand lesson from
Signor Campazzi last night - among other things learned to play
Mora.
About half past six this morning Mr M__ called me saying there was a
remarkable sunrise in prospect. In a moment I was wrapped, and leaning
from my window, turned my face âright against the eastern gate.â Were
any painter able to paint paint faithfully what we saw there, he would
be pronounced most false to nature. A heavy mass of the blackest looking
clouds seemed so near us as to lie this side Genoa, and below this, a
broad band of fiery red which we now thought water and now sky. [illegible] Mr M. said that when he first saw it he
thought it was the reflection of some vessel on fire near Genoa - that
such a color just there could be nothing else, but a tonger longer look
showed him it was only the banner of the sun. It was still so early that
the morning star was shining above the black, billowy-looking clouds
with a calm br white brilliancy that contrasted wonderfully with them
and the blood-red field still lower. But every moment brought a change.
The star grew paler on a soft green ground, the great cloud veil was
rent and showed patches of the same crimson behind it, clear white rays
shot from beneath the upper edge of the black vapour like the [illegible] tail of some giant comet - the red became
a saffron then gold and at last the dazzling rim of the great luminary
itself flashed out, and, heaving up as it were by pulses, in a moment
more the full flaming orb seemed to stand on the promontory just the
other side of the queenly city. Before this consummation however, the
clouds had passed through a thousand transformations of form & color
and the sea exhibited phenomena no less interesting. We sat down to
breakfast praising in full chorus the climate and the sunsets and
sunrises of Pegli. - At one P.M. Mr M. & Alex started for Turin,
leaving Carrie & me with Giachino to care for us till saturday. We
could hardly do any thing but play, after they left the soft air and
bright sunshine were so tempting. The evening Mr & Mrs Tebbs spent
with us. They are saints - real saints, and I was almost ashamed to tell
such kindly generous souls so many unpalatable things about England as I
did. Still it is now no moment for an American to hesitate to speak
plainly, and I cannot lose the opportunity of enlightening, as far as is
in my poor power, a thoroughly honest truth loving reader of the Times
as to the true character of statements he has been in the habit of
accepting as the best of human gospel.
We had ten hours - between a most magnificent sunrise and an equally
fine sunset - of summer temperature in our drawing room. We had only to
allow the sun to come in and there was no necessity for fire. Carrie and
I worked and played alternately, as wise children should, and the hours
flew very fast. In the evening the Italian lesson came off. âThe
Professorâ forgot to be on his good behaviour - the Tebbses having given
him a hint that English and American ladies didnât like âDio Mio,â etc
and exclaimed several times over the examples in his grammar âChe
diavolo! che diavolo!â I was not so shocked, but that the exclamation
and the gesticulation that accompanied it diverted me extremely.
Mr Marsh and Alex. came back from Turin at half past three, bringing
a new supply of shuttle-cocks and a quantity of grissini, not to speak
of weightier matters. We had read the Discussion between the Ministry
and the Opposition which has been going on for some days, with great
interest, and I was anxious to know if I should be borne out in my
estimate of the pityable feebleness of Rattazziâs defense of himself and
collegues. I find this is the universal judgment, and everybody says the
Ministry will go down unless sustained by the throne in the face of the
will of the nation. Ratazzi has private business as well as public, on
hand just now. He has taken the notorious Madame Saulmes [Solms] - self-styled Princess - under his protection,
goes to the Casa dâAngennes twice a day to look after her, and
interposes his powerful arm between her and the lawyers of the poor
Countess Ghirardi, who has sued her ladyship for rent, and would fain
forcibly eject her. In the meantime Alex. says the beautiful staircase
which we took so much pride last winter in keeping spotless, both carpet
and marble, and in ornamenting with rare plants, now looks like the
entrance to a gaming-house, and the handsome court is literally turned
into a stable. The Ghirardi is frantic, and I really begin to be
heartily sorry for her not-withstanding all the inconvenience and real
injury which her greedniness for an unreasonable rent, has caused us. To
have her lose her rent would be such a beautiful piece of justice in
kind, that I could not help being pleased at it, but I dont want the
poor thing to have her house and furniture abused in this way. - There
is a charming caricature out representing Rattazzi with Madame de
Saulmes on his arm, and the pact Prati - fallen very low, alas! -
trotting after them with a foot-warmer for the lady. This was got up on
occasion of the late celebration at Asti in honour of Alfieri - Rattazzi
had the baseness to place that woman by his side on such a national
occasion. If the King stands this, I think he need not have been so much
disturbed when Mr Daniel brought her uninvited to his ball. This
remarkable woman, still handsome, but very deaf, and, in many respects,
very vulgar in her manners, appeared the other day in the diplomatic Box
in the Chambers, introduced of course by His Excây, the President of the
Council. The Diplomats were some of them so foolish as not to be willing
to have her publicly seated by the side of them and their wives. They
talked the matter over, and Baron Hochschild wrote a note to Sir James
Hudson requesting him as doyen to remonstrate, putting it expressly on
the ground of the infamous character of the woman. This M. Solvyns
thinks indiscrete - that it would have been better to have objected
simply to outsiders, there being so little room, etc. I canât agree with
Mr Solvyns and think Baron Hochschildâs course honest and honourable.
The result was a general order restricting the Box to the use of the
Diplomats solely.
Mr and Mrs Wheeler and the Valerioes came out to dine with us, but so
late that we had little time to talk over the many things to be talked
about - the French intervention, the Greek election, Gen. McCelellan
[McClellan], Rattazzi, etc etc. As there was no
great difference of opinion however among us we summed up very amicably.
Mrs Valerio is bright and intelligent, but from certain opinions
expressed with regard to some eminences of her own sex in New York, I
fancy she bears âno rival near the throneâ. Mrs Wheeler was too silent
for me to comment upon till I know her better. Valerio was lively and
witty, Wheeler grave and witty, - the latter quality I have never
detected in him before. We had a nice evening with the Tebbses after
they left. We set Miss Tebbs to guess out the real name of Mr Valerio
from the pet form used by his wife - Pinotto, and she was much amused
when we took Giuseppe, and followed on from Beppo, Beppino, Beppinotto
to Pinotto. Mr Marsh told her one might go on indefinitely from Pinotto
- to Pinottino, Mottino, Tino Tinetto, Tinello etc, which brought up
Washington Irvingâs famous etymology of Mango from Jeremiah [illegible] King.
For this cold sunless day we have not the compensation of a headlong
surf. The wind blows off shore, and though the sea is rough enough in
the distance, our little bay is smooth as glass. It is a good day for
work and by the help of the battledoor and shuttlecock once in an hour
or two Mr Marsh and Carrie contrived to keep warm without a fire.
Darkness came very early but Signor Campazzi helped us off with the long
evening -
No improvement in the weather which is grim enough. All the mountains
in our sight are covered with snow and the outdoor temperature even here
is 47 Fahr. We had a fire made for the Tebbses this evening, as we
thought 59 rather low for Mr Tebbs - We were warmed up a little
ourselves by the confirmation of the report of Rattazziâs resignation.
It is doubtful whether a more liberal Ministry will follow, but we may
at least hope for one less subservient to Napoleon. There seemed to be a
general impression that the King might be induced to sustain Rattazzi in
the face of his people by proroguing the Parliament, or some other
method not less unpalatable, but Victor Emmanuel still prefers to be the
Re Galantâuomo that he has ever shown himself. It is still doubtful
whether Cassinis or Pasolini will either of them dare to assume the
responsibility of forming a new Ministry.
A brilliant day of sunshine which brought our thermometer up to 65
again, and made us forget the sourness of the two last days. Mr Botta
came out at 4, and dined here with Signor Campazzi - I was not well
enough to leave my room, and a boil on my face prevented me from even
seeing Mr Botta, but I hope for a longer visit from him when he returns
from f Florence and Naples. Mr Botta complains that the progress in
Italy is less that he had hoped, and he says that he told Rattazzi that
an importation of twenty thousand yankees here would do more for them
than in one year than the next ten were likely to do.
We had no sun today, and the thermometer not being quite up to 58 we
concluded to try a fire. We had complained of the first basket of wood
for which we paid 4 francs, as being poor both in quality and quantity,
it having consisted chiefly of little bunches of brush, and the whole
contents of the bashed [basket] would not have
made one good Vermont fire. This time the boy came up staggering and
panting under his load. The little basket was set down, the brush-wood
for kindling, was piled on it afterwards, and then the fire was lighted.
We then proceeded to examine what was left in the box basket. Instead of
the brush as before, were a quantity of roots, half dry and as solid as
iron-wood. In the meantime we gathered around the fire looking into it
with painful anxiety. It was smouldering away, almost without a blaze,
and absolutely without warmth. Again we had recourse to the basket - the
brush would burn, the rest would not. At last I said: âif our Vermont
friends - or indeed any other American friends, could look in upon us
now their first exclamation would be - âis that all you can do on twelve
thousand a year!ââ This idea seemed to rouse the pride of the Minister,
who made a fresh and still more vigourous assault upon the wood-basked.
In another half-hour it blazed, and rubbing his hands with satisfaction,
he exclaimed - âNow that is quite a fire!â - âUp to your position, eh?â
- and looking at the thermometer I found the exertions of an hour and a
half hadnât raised it a degree. âThat thermometer is unfavourably
placed,â was the answer, and accordingly we set it on the table, where,
if the fire blazed again, it couldnât fail to shine on it. In this way,
before bedtime we got it up to 59. If it is to cost us four francs a
degree all winter I think we shall have to contrive to get a special
allowance for fire-wood.
Once more we have sunshine, and the able-bodied among our little
household set off with Mr Campazzi for the Santuario back of Sestri. The
walk proved a four hours one, and they returned only in time to dress
for dinner. We find no inconvenience from the cold when we have
sunshine.
The sunshine kept us warm again today. Mr Marsh worked at his book
without interruption all the morning, and took a long walk towards
evening going some distance beyond Voltri. My lot - as it has been
nearly every day this week - was to be in bed nearly all day.
I was âstruck all of a heapâ as our elegant English women neighbors
would say, this morning by a note from one of our Turinese fashionables,
proposing to come down here, and put herself under our wing for the
winter - being tired, as she says, of visits &c-. In this respect I
think we know her better than she knows herself. She has had some social
vexations, and she now fancies she could be happy in a retirement like
this - But she would soon be miserable herself, and make us miserable by
consuming our time which we came here to try to save. I I got up hoping
to join the Tebbses at the dinner-table, but this unlucky letter, or
something else quite knocked me up, and I was soon obliged to be put
into my bed again. In the evening amends was made for the bad news of
the morning by an apparently well-authenticated report that Massimo
dâAzeglio was in treaty for rooms here as he wished to pass the next too
two months at Pegli. If this should turn out to be true we should be
delighted.
Mr Marsh set off for Turin at 4, leaving me still in bed. The
Strettells dined here, also Signor Campazzi, and I was very sorry that
both Mr Marsh and I should have been absent from table. Mrs Tebbs came
in after dinner, partly to keep Carrie company during her lesson, and I
asked her to come in and sit with me a few minutes. She is a dear good
soul - osci!
There was nothing new in the routine of our life today. We were kept
warm by the great bright sun, and Giachino, who has to do my play as
well as my work, tossed the shuttlecock with Carrie when she was tired
of study or writing -
Carrie went to Genoa with the Tebbses - all to make some purchases in
a bazaar for the benifit of a foreign hospital - and they all returned
together with Mr Marsh at half past three - Mr Marsh tells me the new
Ministry gives general satisfaction. They are strong men, and all the
kingdom is represented - Of course it is idle to talk of Rome at
present, but they may make progress in other directions. Nothing else
new in Turin. Our home news is unimportant, except signs of defiance in
case of any impertinent interference on the part of European
governments.
After a good morningâs work Mr Marsh and Carrie took a stroll in the
red sunshine of the hillsides, and brought home a quantity of pretty
wild-flowers, looking more like spring than winter. I went down to the
dinner-table for the first time for ten days, and was glad to meet our
nice English family once more. We have had many a good hearty laugh by
ourselves over good Mr Tebbsâs ingenuity in bringing in an anecdote of
some Bishop a propos of every thing that may happen to be the subject of
conversation. Today we were speaking of the beaver story, with the
drawing, in the London News, and from the beaver had passed to the
otter. Mrs Tebbs inquired if the otter was found in England. âOh, yes,
yes,â replied the husband, with much vivacity, âand I can tell you how I
know. Some years ago I was requested by good Bishop Otter to pay a visit
of remonstrance to a very unworthy clergyman of his diocese, whose
fox-hunting and profanity had made him the scandal of the country. The
shameless man who had powerful family connections replied that if his
lordship persisted in interfering with his fox-hunting, he should
certainly take to otter hunting!â I could scarcely keep my countenance
till we left the table, and as soon as we reached our room a
simultaneous laugh broke from us all. - In the evening our excellent
friends came to us again, and though Mr Tebbs still talked chiefly of
Bishops yet his conversation is always lively and instructive, and
deeply characterized by Christian feeling. He gave us tonight an
interesting account of the circumstances of the translation of the Bible
into the spoken language of Abysinia, and of his own share in the work
of copying from the original manuscript for the printer employed by the
Bible society.
This morning my maid brought me the Opinione containing the horrible
story of the murder of Signora Statella by Marie Sophie, ex-queen of
Naples. The dreadful tragedy has long been whispered about, but the
solemn denials of its truth so often made officially at Rome, had nearly
silenced the terrible scandal - when lo, it comes up again in a more
authentic form than ever. I confess myself greatly shocked, for I had
admired the spirit and pitied the fate of this young queen, and did not
believe in the wild tales of crime and violence told to her
disadvantage. Is it then possible that the infamous vices and crimes
which we shudder to read about in History are still exemplified in the
lives of kings and courts of at this very day?
Letters and papers from home occupied us for some time this Lett
morning, and later Mrs Valerio came out from Genoa. We had to compare
notes as to the intelligence and the general impression of hone [home] affairs as conveyed by our private
correspondence, but we could not manage to get much consolation out of
it in any way. Mrs Valerio says that her brother Lorenzo, just made
Senatore del Regno, is pleased with the new Ministry, and hopes Italian
matters may go on better.
This morning we finished the Adieux of Adolph Monod - the latter part
of the book evidently written out with more care, and in other respects,
too, it pleased us better. It is an interesting, touching relic, but I
canât imagine how any one could ever think of it in connection with the
Confessions of St Augustine. A violent headache made the day long to me
- Carrie brought home a nice pleasant sermon of Mr Venniblesâ, Mr Tebbs
son-in-law, of which we enjoyed the reading.
This is the third cloudless day we have had in succession, and the
thermometer stands at 60 in the morning, 65 at mid-day. Mr Marsh and
Carrie really complain of the heat when they take the least exercise.
Mrs Tebbs brought me a handful of the loveliest roses just gathered in
the open air. So far we find the climate all we could desire. Mrs Tebbs
in her walk found hay-making going on, not on a large scale, to be sure,
but in the lawns belonging to the villaâs. Our family letters were more
consoling than usual this morning, still political affairs were are not
what we could wish.
Mr Marsh and Carrie took a long walk up the Val Varenna, and came
home loaded with wild-flowers, heaths, and winter-berries, black and
red, so that we were able to make up a gay bouquet. It is such an
advantage to be where one can take such walks, especially for Mr Marsh
who writes so many hours steadily. I try to persuade him not to work as
hard, but Adam-like he answers that the fault is all mine - that he
should never have made books but for me - and that no man ever had so
hard a mistress since the time of the late Mrs Durer.
We had an amusing instance this morning of Italian ingenuity, as well
as a proof of Italian patriotism. I thought we had seen the red, green,
and white, produced in every possible comf combination and in every
material, and in every article that Italian fancy could contrive, but
this morning we had something new - a tri-color salade - composed of
beets, potatoes and olives, disposed with an unmistakable eye to the
flag. I wonder if the Stars and Stripes are petted to this extent in
America even now. At one Mr and Mrs Valerio came down to spend the day
with us - We could not have asked for a finer sky and temperature for
them, and Mrs Valerio found our room almost too warm without a fire -
far warmer, she says, than her own in Genoa where she keeps a constant
fire.
Again the day has come around that takes Mr Marsh to Turin. He left
soon after one, having done a full dayâs work first. I hope he may get
an answer of peace from our Government in reference to the generous
offer of Garibaldi and his heroic little band, though I have little hope
that it will be accepted. A day or two since Mr Marsh received a most
prudent, as well as most hearty note from the General himself ~.
We were scarcely ready to sit down quietly this morning when I
received Commodore Thatcherâs card. He came up, and though we had never
met before, we found so many things to talk about at this distance from
our country and in this critical moment of her national life, that four
hours flew away like an ordinary morning visit. We did not agree in
everything certainly, but the Commodore loves his country, and would die
for it, and that is enough to make me like him.
My admiration for the climate here grows stronger every day. This
morning we have been sitting with the drawing-room-windows open all the
morning, the temperature is perfect - the sea rolls in magnificently,
and the smell of the salt-water is most refreshing. The orange harvest
is just beginning - how can we go to back to Turin now ? Mr Marsh
returned at nine this evening bringing nothing of importance from Turin.
The Casa dâAngennes is still in possession of the self-styled princess.
The countess has seized the horses of the grande dame, and her baker,
butcher, grocer etc., having refused further supplies without some signs
of pay, Rattazzi has come to the rescue, and furnishes Madameâs table
daily. The ex-Minister, in thus publicly protecting a woman as infamous
shows a want of self-respect that one would hardly have expected even
from him. Her age, her deafness, and her ill-breeding, - to say nothing
of other things, would probably have out-balanced any personal charms
she may still possess, if it were not for that very slender thread which
connects her with the Bonapartes.
Carrie went to Genoa to look up Christmas presents. Mr Marsh worked
hard at his book all the morning. We get little time to read together
now except Sundays. We have on hand through Mare Monnierâs âLa Camorraâ,
and Micheletâs âSorciĂšreâ. The former is very curious, the latter,
though in some respects false in principle, is full of interest. He
speaks of a friend of his as being the last survivor of the Middle Ages.
I fancy this might be said with more truth of Ricasoli than of any man
now living, though in some essentials the stout-hearted Baron is a man
of this Age. Mr Marsh had the distinguished Marchese Pare to Pareto for
a travelling companion from Turin saturday and found him most
intelligent on all scientific subjects, especially on geographical &
geological matters. In fact I think he stands very high as a geologist.
Signor Campazzi says the Marchese is considered as a liberal with a hue
strongly inclining to red. -
Mr Lowe and Mr Wallace, officers from the Constellation, came down to
Pegli this morning. They are both gentlemen, and hearty patriots, though
Mr Wallace is from Tennesee. They both want the rebellion put down, and
are ready, I have no doubt, to die in the cause, but curious enough,
even Lowe, a Massachusetts man, evidently thinks that Slavery is the
last thing that ought to be meddled with. Oh, the infatuation with which
this most subtle of poisons has filled us! These gentlemen both are very
hopeful, even confident of an early restoration of the Union, and the
account they give from personal knowledge of the state of feeling among
the middle and lower classes in Florida and Alabama at the outbreak of
the rebellion is most interesting. They confirm the often-repeated
statement that the majority of the people in those states were then in
favor of the Union, and if they could have had protection and arms, they
were ready to fight for it. Carrie and Miss Tebbs strolled for several
hours of the hills in search of Christmas evergreens, and returned
loaded with treasures, among which was the beautiful English holly, a
novelty to us.
Nothing could be quieter than our Christmas which was a great comfort
to me, as my heart is this year in no mood for gaieties. The illness of
Mr and Mrs Tebbs in the morning kept them from church - the tree frolic
was postponed to New Years, and we had no interruptions of any kind
through the day. In the evening we were all well enough to gather at the
dinner-table, and the three new guests who have been with us two days,
helped us make quite a table-full. After dinner our friends came in to
us and we had a pleasant chat of an hour. Among the subjects discussed
was the famous Letter, or rather Letters, of Mr Wordsworth, translated
into Italian, and signed âUn Ecclesiastico.â I told Mrs Tebbs that I did
not like the idea of a clergyman belonging to the English Church writing
a Letter to the Italians on Church questions, in a form and with
signature intended to make them believe that it came from a priest of
their own Romish Church - that however good it might be in itself it was
not honourable to try to insinuate even truth under false colours - and
I asked her if this was not exactly what we complained of in the
morality, or rather immorality of the Jesuits. She answered as I should
have expected from so single-minded a person - said that she had already
told Mr Strettell that she did not like the principle of the proceeding,
and furthermore that Signor Campazzi (straight-forward truth-loving soul
that he is) had told her that he was much pained by the want of
frankness shown in the form and signature of these Letters - that they
would do no good in Italy, for the circumstances facts would certainly
be known, and would give a great shock to Italian faith in English
truthfullness. Mrs Tebbs then asked me if Mr Marsh had not spoken to Mr
Strettell or Mr Tottenham on the subject. I said no, because he thought
they would set it down as a foolish Puritan prejudice on his part - that
and I then said, I shall certainly do so myself [illegible] as soon as I have an opportunity. Mrs
Tebbs also added that when they were first told that the Letters were by
Mr Wordsworth, but that this fact must be kept secret, both she an Mr
Tebbs were quite at a loss to understand the object of the secrecy, and
it was only when explained by Mr Campazzi, that they fully understood
it. She is resolved as soon as she sees Mr Strettell to ask him how he
would like to have a Romish priest succeed in giving circulation
through-out the English Church to one of his Letters, the impression of
that Church being that this Letter was written by one of its own
dignitaries.
Our friend Campazzi passed a part of the evening with us, and gave us
much curious information about prominent events and persons during the
last fifteen years. He has evidently been on very intimate terms with
Massimo dâAzeglio, especially in â47 at Rome. He tells us that the
fancied moral superiority of the Prince of Syracuse over the rest of the
Neapolitan Bourbons is a mistake. He says he was himself living in
Palermo while the Prince was in Sicily, and that the general belief
there was that the professed liberality of the Prince was assumed only
that he might act the part of delator more successfully. Also when in
Rome dâAzeglioâs account of him corresponds entirely with his own
observation and the opinion of the Sicilians. Among other anecdotes of
some interest as bringing out little points in the characters of great
men, he gave the history of a temporary coldness between Gioberti and
dâAzeglio. The latter dedicated his book written in Rome to Cesare
Balbo, as the first Italian who had dared to write and speak freely on
the subject of Italian liberty. Gioberti was hurt by this dedication as
he had himself published his Primato more than a year before Balbo had
written on the subject, and, indeed, what Balbo had written was little
else than commentaries on Gioberti. So far Gioberti seemed to have some
cause for feeling that justice had not been done him. DâAzeglio was told
that his friend was wounded, and thereupon gave this explanation:
âGioberti did write his Primato before Balbo published the work to which
I alluded, - but where did he publish it? Not like Balbo, in Turin, in
the face of the most despotic government, but in Brussels. All I meant
to say was that Balbo was the first who had dared under the very eye of
despotism itself, to write and speak without restraint, and I am sure
Gioberti will be as ready as I am to recognize this merit.â This
explanation perfectly satisfied Gioberti, and the friendship between the
two was as warm as ever.
I should have grudged the day consumed in doll-dressing etc. still
more than I do, had it not been necessarily spent in bed, and in a state
of body not fitted for more serious employment.
Mr Marsh beguiled the long hours of a day of illness, by reading to
me, and in spite of much pain I should call it a pleasant day but for
the sad news that closed it in - Burnside defeated, and forced to repass
the Rappahannock! Comment here, I leave to History. Providence certainly
seems against us. Dreadful as it is the loss of life and the depressing
moral effect of this repulse, I dread more than all lest it should put
McClellan once more at the head of the Army - the very man whose stupid
or treacherous delays made it necessary for Burnside to fight this
battle in the rains and mud of a Virginia winter.
After a night of unrest Mr Marsh rose this morning too heavy-hearted,
he said, to collect his thoughts for book-making, and severely as I have
suffered physically all day I am rather glad of an excuse for not
meeting our fellow-guests at the table. When I took up the idea of
keeping something like a journal during our stay in Italy, I intended
only to note down facts and circumstances that might have a general
interest hereafter, and that I might refer to with confidence when my
memory would not otherwise help me out, and I had no intention of making
it in any way personal. By degrees, however, though I have abstained
from recording severe family afflictions and losses that have come upon
us since we left our country, matters more personal have crept in, until
I am afraid when I come to look over the record - if I should ever live
to do so - I shall find little in it of any value for the object I at
first purposed to myself. The condition of our Country has been such
that we have had little dispositon to seek the society of those persons
in whom we felt the strongest interest before we came to Italy, and to
whose political position or literary eminence made it an object to know
them. The hope we then entertained of being useful to Italy by pointing
to our own successful experiment in civil and religious freedom has
grown fainter and fainter, and we prefer retirement to the condolence of
friends, or the polite sarcasms of the lovers of tyranny. For these
reasons I have had less to record concerning persons likely ever to be
in any way historical.
Mr Marsh set out for Turin at four cloudy as the weather, and having
me in bed. My entertainment after he left were the additional items of
the last telegram taken from the London Times. The intimations as to
what Lincoln would probably do, would be less stinging did not the
feebleness of the Administration thus far warranted the fear that the
prophecy might prove to be true.
A day not worth making a note upon except for the reason that, if I
allow one day to pass at without at least marking its date, I fear I
shall soon grow careless about writing at all - excusing myself from day
to day on the ground that, out of our own inner life, nothing has
occurred about us worth recording. The little energy left me from pain
& weakness to-day, was devoted to superintending the dressing of a
doll in the Turkish costume of Constantinople - for the New-yearsâ
tree.