First Impressions on a Tour upon the Continent

In the evening we drove upon the Corso in a caleche, the same sort of vehicle which we used while at Paris. The Corso is a pretty, cool, shady promenade, by the side of the river Po. The upper classes of Turin take the cool air of the evening here, every day, in their different carriages; we observed no pedestrians above the rank of the bourgeoisie. We met the king of Sardinia on horseback, not forming (as is usual for sovereigns in England) the centre of a galaxy of stars and ribands, but riding first, by himself, followed by an escort of five gentlemen, among whom was his brother. He looked very earnestly into our carriage, and returned our salutation by taking off his hat in a graceful and courteous manner. He is a little thin man, apparently about fifty-five, with a countenance expressive of good nature. The queen next rolled by, attended by all her suite, in an old-fashioned heavy coach and six, her coachman (big, fat, and important, sunk in his ample box) and her footmen in gay scarlet liveries, gaudily laced. The equipage altogether put me strongly in mind of that raised by the fairy for her god-daughter Cinderella, where the coach was originally a pumpkin, the coachman a fat hen, and the lackeys lizards! We saw shortly afterwards, during this brilliant promenade, the prince and princess of Carignano (who are adored by all ranks, and are continually active in every benevolent duty), and the Spanish, Dutch, and other ambassadors. The king shows himself to the populace in this manner every evening. We attended the Opera at night; the price of one of the best private boxes did not exceed twelve shillings, and the tickets of admission (being a separate concern) were about fifteen-pence. In London one thinks a box cheap at five guineas! The prince and princess de Carignano were present: the theatre is called by their name, but it is not the principal one at Turin; there being another upon a larger scale, which was shut up during our sejour at that place: it is never used but during the carnival, or on some great occasion, in compliment to some foreign prince. The Carignano theatre is, notwithstanding, a handsome, spacious edifice, about the size of Drury Lane, and the scenery and machinery carried on in far better style than with us in the Haymarket. The drop curtain in particular caught my attention; it is an exquisite painting, representing the Judgment of Paris, his figure beautiful and graceful in the highest degree, and the drapery remarkably fine. The Opera (Il Rivale di se stesso, by Veigi) was well got up, but we were not much struck with the music, from the whole of which we could only select one or two morceaux to admire: there was a clever buffo (Signor Nicola Taci), and a very agreeable prima donna, whose style of singing and flexibility of voice sometimes reminded us of Catalani; her name was Emilia Bonini. The ballet was extremely superior to ours in numbers, and in minute attention to the accuracy of costume; but there were no French dancers among them, and it is well known how inferior in the comparison are all others. The grotesques, however, (a species of dancers peculiar to Italy) were wonderful for activity and strength: they consisted of four men and two women, who really appeared to think the air their proper element rather than the earth; they flew about in every possible strange attitude, but were totally devoid of grace, to which, indeed, I believe they do not pretend. I found that I had by some means formed a very erroneous idea of the usual conduct of an Italian audience. I had expected to find a sort of breathless silence, and a refinement of applause, wholly different from the character of an English set of listeners; but on the contrary, they clapped as loudly as any John Bulls in the world, and even hissed one of the singers, who did not happen to please. I have subsequently mentioned this circumstance to those who are better acquainted with the customs of Italy, and learn that I have been quite mistaken all my life in this respect. The house (as well as those in France) was dark as Erebus which I cannot approve, for it evidently does not answer the purpose of increasing the brilliancy and the illusion of the stage.

The next morning we drove to Moncallier, about six miles from Turin, to call upon Madame N – , (an old acquaintance of our friend Mr. T.'s,) for whom we had letters. The coachman was an insufferable gossip, and we dreaded to ask him a question, sure that it would bring down upon us at least a dozen long answers. We did not go to the English minister's; that gentleman (Mr. Hill) being then absent for a fortnight at Genoa. We therefore had not the pleasure of presenting him with those letters of introduction to himself and other families at Turin, with which we were furnished by the kindness of Mr. T. who was also formerly minister here, and of whom the people still speak in those terms of enthusiastic gratitude, which his benevolence richly deserves. It was highly pleasing to me to listen to these details, nor were they imparted to us by one person alone; his reputation appeared to be in the hearts and upon the lips of every one who remembered him at all! But to return to our visit to Madame N – : the vast expanse of fertile, fresh, and woody country seen from the heights of Moncallier, with the Po winding in graceful sweeps through the richest banks, is wonderfully like the prospect boasted by Richmond Hill. I was national enough to admire it the more upon this account, although I confess its superiority in the sublime back ground of the distant Alps and glaciers. When arrived at the termination of the carriage road here, we were informed of the necessity of alighting, and of walking a short distance to the garden gate that belonged to Madame N.'s vigne. This short distance proved to be upwards of half a league (a mile and half), leading through a stony lane of hot sand, (in which our weary feet sunk deep at every step), upon a very long and steep ascent. The hour of noon (which I have already mentioned to be intolerable in this country) rapidly approached, and the scorching influence of the sun caused the drops to start from our foreheads, and our hearts to sink within us, as we proceeded on our way; to make the matter worse, I had attired myself that morning (little dreaming of such a walk) in a smart Parisian costume, with a triple flounce at the bottom of the petticoat, which by the time I had reached the end of this lane, formed a very pretty receptacle of dust and sand, scattering its contents most liberally upon my already blistered feet and ancles; a pair of thin, small slippers, also, (which I unfortunately wore) cut my insteps with their tight binding, and admitted at each step the sharp points of flint with which our path abounded! The guide (a bareheaded Piedmontese boy) did not understand above one word in ten of what was said to him, either in French or Italian, speaking a wretched and indistinct patois himself, which was equally unintelligible to us. He was a lively, arch little fellow, however, and made some amends for having seduced us into attempting the walk, by his encouraging signs that we should soon arrive at its termination. Indeed it would have been useless to have gone back, as we had already advanced so far upon our way; and there was no possibility of reaching the house but on foot. I reproached him several times for replying only "No, Signora," when I asked if such and such gates belonged to the vigne we were seeking; and could not help smiling at his desiring me to take courage, for that in a few minutes he should leave off saying "No, Signora," and be able to please me better by "Eccola, Signora:" at length we reached the goal, and upon ringing, were ushered by two servant girls in their paysanne costumes, amid the barking of wondering dogs, into a romantic garden, where flowers, fruit, vegetables, and grapes, all flourished together without any attempt at regularity, forming a singular and most agreeable melange. This vigne commanded an exquisite and extensive prospect of the plains of Piedmont, and the distant mountains. A grave, respectable femme de chambre now made her appearance, and speaking in English, conducted us into the house, where in a few minutes Madame N. herself received us with a degree of frank politeness, and a warm and unaffected hospitality of manner, which was extremely pleasant to meet with, and quite a novelty to those who like ourselves had been accustomed to the reserve (I may say ultra-reserve) of many Englishwomen. Both mistress and maid (the latter personage above-mentioned having lived with Madame N. ever since she was a girl) had a foreign accent and idiom, in speaking our language, although they were really of English birth, and had passed their youth in the county of Suffolk or Norfolk, I forget which. We were much struck with the difference of this little country house from those to which we had been used in England, it bore so completely the Italian character; all the rooms were in demi jour, having the jalousies closed, to shield them from the sun at this sultry time of the day: marble in profusion rendered their appearance doubly cool, brick floors and light green stucco walls, still preserving the air of a cottage residence, in which an English eye is surprised at meeting the former costly material. A few beautiful frescos, and water-coloured drawings of mountain scenery, evidently from the hand of a master, a gaily painted ceiling, and a guitar thrown carelessly upon a pianoforte, told us we were in the land of the arts. Passing into the small dining-room, opening upon the garden, through a porch thickly shaded with vines, we saw the table ready laid for dinner, to which we were cordially intreated to remain: it was entirely covered with large vine leaves, spread upon the white cloth, and amid which we perceived wooden spoons and forks, in a true Arcadian style. Nothing could have a cooler or more refreshing effect than this verdant board prepared for

 
" – all those rural messes,
Which the neat-handed Phyllis dresses."
 

We were not, however, at liberty to accept Madame N.'s invitation to share her simple meal, having left our friend waiting dinner for us at Turin. She told us of a late visit she had been making to the mountains: their party consisted of a few intimate friends, who, joining in a sort of gipseying scheme, hired lodgings for three weeks, at the humble cottage of one of the poor inhabitants of these remote and solitary regions. They carried their own cooking utensils, some provisions, and a complete set of common earthen-ware dishes, plates, wooden spoons, knives and forks, &c. These they presented to their host at parting, whose gratitude and delight at the splendid gift, she said, were unbounded. He repeatedly exclaimed, "too much! this is too much! what beautiful things! they are far too good for me!" Their value in toto was about five English shillings; but this unsophisticated child of nature, used to every sort of privation, knowing but few wants, and totally ignorant of the customs and habits of the rest of the world, really imagined that it was a princely donation. The manners of the people in these wild mountains are primitive beyond all conception, and their morals so pure, their affections so warm, and their language so artless and unrestrained, that they seemed as if just fresh from the hand of the Creator in the beginning of the world! Altogether they had made such a strong and touching impression on Madame N.'s mind (who is herself the purest and most romantic child of nature), that she said she should regret their society, and remember their singular virtues and innocence as long as she lived. The advocates for the doctrine of original depravity, and who deny that man is rendered vicious chiefly by circumstances, might have been somewhat staggered in this "plain tale," so truly calculated to "put them down."

Speaking of the Italian character, and more particularly of their excellence in the fine arts, she confirmed the truth of what so many accurate and enlightened observers have remarked, namely, "that the genius of an Italian is so peculiarly indigenous to his native soil, so intimately and vitally dependant upon the favouring and animating breath of his own ardent clime, as to faint, droop, and often wholly to wither, in the chilling atmosphere of foreign lands!" Like the giant son of the earth, who wrestled with Hercules, his power, his very existence, is drawn wholly from thence. Madame de Staël, in her Corinne (that work, whose kindling eloquence, depth of feeling, inimitable powers of language, and historical truth, as a portrait of Italy, is so universally admired by the best judges of excellence, and so clamoured against by the tasteless and ignorant cavillers of the day), has forcibly illustrated this truth; as has also Canova, in his own person. Madame N. related an answer which the latter made to Bonaparte (who had sense and elevation enough to appreciate this modern Praxiteles as he deserved), upon being reproached for indolence, and want of professional exertion while at Paris: "Emperor! – Canova cannot be Canova but in his native Italy; she is the source of his inspiration; his powers are palsied in the separation!"

We walked in the garden of this pretty vigne, after having partaken of the refreshment of fruit and wine and water within, and were surprised at the bruised and battered appearance of the grapes; they had been all nearly destroyed a short time before, by a violent storm of hail; the congealed drops of this destructive element being larger than a small bird's egg, or a gooseberry! What a scourge to the poorer classes, whose only wealth frequently consists in their vineyards! (Note D).

We now took leave of our friendly, though new, acquaintance; who, not satisfied with having pressed us to pass a few days with her here, also offered us the use of her winter residence in Turin, if we had staid longer, assuring us we should find it more comfortable than a hotel. Before I quit her, however, I should mention the curious difference which she pointed out to us, in the necessary expenses of an Italian and an English domestic establishment: the comforts, and even luxuries, of the former clime being obtained at so much more reasonable a price than those of the latter, as to seem almost incredible. She told me, that for five or six hundred a year a person might keep two houses (one in Turin, and one in the country), a carriage, a box at the Opera, an appropriate table, and be able to receive friends under his roof with perfect ease. Further up, among the more retired mountains, and relinquishing the accommodation of a carriage, you might live most comfortably (although, of course, upon a very small scale of establishment) for fifty pounds per annum. She added, that in her own case, an income which gave her the reputation of a "rich widow" in Turin, would not purchase her a decent roof, and bread and cheese, in London. I have no means of ascertaining that this statement is correct, or exaggerated; I merely relate the circumstance. We found our friend, Mr. W., in expectation of our return, at the hotel:

 
"We entered,
And dinner was served as we came;"⁶
 

for which we had a better appetite than could have been imagined, after all our fatigues. The heat of the weather would not admit of our going out till the evening had considerably advanced, when we again drove about the town. The waiter (who, by the way, was one of the best looking of his kind we had seen, being particularly remarkable for the elegant expression of his countenance (if I may apply that word to one in his rank of life), as well as the regularity of his truly Grecian features), told us, that the late summer had been the most sultry that the people of Turin were able to remember; and that he himself had found the heat so unusually oppressive, that he had hardly been able to taste food during the time of its continuance. Having occasion to write letters this evening, we sent for materials, and by the appearance of the golden sand which was brought to us, thought the river Pactolus ran through the town instead of the Po. Ice is used in profusion here, in the preparation of almost every beverage; and there are large meadows overflowing with the clearest streams of water, kept solely for this purpose. We went into a bookseller's shop during our stay, where we were agreeably surprised by seeing a translation of Rob Roy upon the table, which we were assured was much relished in Italy, and was extremely popular. A proof (if any were wanting) of the intrinsic excellence of the work, even considered without reference to its merits as a mere national picture. We observed also a sermon, which had been preached upon the death of our lamented Princess Charlotte; the style, as I slightly turned over the leaves, appeared highly pathetic, and the expressions of pity and regret very forcible and natural. It was altogether a tender and soothing gratification to our feelings as natives of England.

Priestcraft struck us to be the staple trade of the place; the swarms of dismal, sly-looking, vulgar figures, in their black formal costume, were beyond all belief, and the idea of a flight of ravens came into my head every time I saw them. Passing by the market, we were astonished at the quantities of peaches exposed for sale. They are as common in Italy as potatoes with us. Some small ones of an inferior sort were then selling at the price of four or five English halfpence for three pounds weight of fruit. We went the next day, in the cool of the evening, to drive, as usual, about the environs, and intended to have called upon the Marquise d'A – (née d'A.), for whom we had letters of introduction; but were prevented by a violent and sudden storm of rain, thunder, and lightning. The effect of its coming on was wonderfully grand and beautiful; a painter would have been in ecstasies; and we were highly interested in the sight. Looking back upon Turin, we beheld the town, and the conspicuous convent of Capucins, their white walls starting luminously forth from a background of lowering clouds of a purple hue, indicative of the gathering tempest, which in a few moments darkened into the most awful gloom that can be imagined. We put up the hood and leather apron of the carriage, and drove rapidly homewards, while the clouds burst over our heads, and the rain descended in absolute sheets of water. We could not help being delighted with the refreshing change. If Pythagoras's doctrine is true, I am convinced I must formerly have been a duck; for never creature of that nature enjoyed the sort of thing more than myself. The lightning continued for nearly an hour, accompanied by tremendous bursts of thunder, louder than the loudest artillery, the wind howling at the same moment as if in the depth of winter, which, joined to the constant rushing sound of the rain falling from the projecting roofs and broad water-spouts of the surrounding buildings, formed the most sublime concert of wild sounds that I ever heard. We were told that storms are almost always thus violent in the near neighbourhood of the Alps.

Before I quit the subject of Turin, there are a few more observations, which, however desultory, I will not withhold, although they sometimes may relate to things which we did not ourselves see, owing to the extreme heat of the weather, and the shortness of our stay. Among these is the church of the Superga, which I advise every traveller to visit, knowing how amply his trouble would be repaid by the very noble view that it affords, and the peculiar interest and magnificence of the structure itself. In a clear day the spire of the cathedral of Milan may be discerned from thence, at the distance of eighty miles. To inspect the convent, in all its details, it is necessary for ladies to procure previously an order from the archbishop of Turin.

The Colline de Turin, in addition to its natural beauties, presents two other objects worthy of being seen: the Vigne de la Reine (a very elegant little summer retreat), and the picturesque and romantic convent, which is the burying-place of the knights of the supreme order of the Annunciade, in the neighbourhood of which are found considerable masses of that fibrous schist, called asbestos.

Bonaparte, it must be allowed, has made considerable amends for the mischief which his army occasioned at Turin, by the handsome bridge he caused to be built in place of a miserable wooden one, and by weeding the country of its too numerous monastic institutions, a few of which only have been restored by the present government. As the seeds of revolutionary principles are apt to retain their vital heat, even when apparently crushed beneath the foot of power, one cannot be surprised that a good deal of unpopularity attends the present sovereign among certain classes. But his truly paternal government is nevertheless cherished with affection by many, as the following fact clearly proves, which I learned from the most indisputable authority. There existed an impôt, highly profitable to the revenue, but which the king believed to be vexatious and unpopular. He was accordingly taking measures to repeal it, when, unexpectedly, he received addresses from different parts of the country, expressive of their conviction that this resource to the revenue was necessary; and such was their confidence in the certainty of his majesty's relinquishment of it, the moment the situation of the finances would allow him to do so without inconvenience, that they were content willingly to submit to it until that period arrived.

We regretted not being able to visit Genoa, the magnificence of which city, and its beautiful bay (the latter hardly inferior to that of Naples), is much talked of. With respect to this portion of his Sardinian majesty's new subjects, we were told that a considerable time will be necessary to reconcile them to the loss of their independence.

We should have been glad to have availed ourselves (as I said before) of our letters of introduction to Mr. Hill, had he been at Turin, as we had heard much of the affable and amiable manners of the Piedmontese nobility. I have, indeed, always understood that they were remarkable for quickness and penetration. These latter qualities distinguish their diplomacy at the several courts of Europe. From the abominable patois which they speak, I should think both gentlemen and ladies must be singularly clever and engaging, to rise superior to such a disadvantage: it seems to be a corruption of French and Italian, and to spoil both. They say, however, that it is very expressive: all ranks are much attached to it, and (strange to relate) it is spoken at court, French being only adopted when foreigners are present.

In this threshold of Italy, one expects to find a considerable progress in the arts, nor were we disappointed. Painting, sculpture, orfévrerie, music, &c. have attained to a very fair and reasonable height, and some of their manufactures are particularly good; especially where silk (the great riches of the country) is employed. Their damasks for hangings are beautiful, both for patterns and colour. They are the common furniture of all their best apartments, and exceedingly cheap; one third perhaps of what they could be manufactured for in England, whither their raw silk is sent every year to an immense amount, and under a no less immense duty; a certain proportion of it is requisite to mix up with our Bengal silks. The light gauzes manufactured at Chamberry are a very elegant and favourite article of dress.

Several of the English nobility have been educated at the university of Turin, which used to be the most considerable in Italy; the system of education having been carried on in a most liberal and gentlemanly style. There is a remarkable and interesting little protestant colony, which also deserves mention, – the Vaudois, who, surviving the cruel persecutions of the dark ages of the church, have for many centuries (certainly before the twelfth) preserved their existence in the midst of this catholic country, and within thirty miles of its capital. They are a very quiet, moral, and industrious people. They owe their ease and safety to the protection of some of the protestant powers, and especially that of Great Britain, whose minister is particularly instructed to attend to their interests, and to their enjoyment of the toleration that is allowed them; they are, like our catholics, deprived of many privileges; but lately his present majesty has consented to allow a salary to their priests. Cromwell supported these people with peculiar energy.

We left Turin the next morning. The fresh and balmy spirit of the air was delightful, and we had a glorious view of the glaciers which hem in this fair city, the new-risen sun shining brightly upon their snowy and fantastic summits: the host went by, in early procession; all the people as it passed dropped on their knees, in the dirt of the street, and devoutly made the sign of the cross. We met two friars, whose picturesque and really dignified appearance formed a great contrast to the demure, fanatical, formal-looking priests, whom we had hitherto seen in all quarters of the town. These friars were complete models for a painter; their bare feet in sandals, rosary and gold cross by their side, superb grey polls and beards; the latter "streaming like meteors to the troubled air." We now paid toll at the first turnpike we had seen during the last seven hundred miles. I believe I have before mentioned that it was Bonaparte who abolished this troublesome system, and who really seems to have favoured the interests of travellers in every respect. The cottages in this neighbourhood were pretty, and many of the little porches and doors were overgrown with the broad verdant leaves of the pumpkin, whose orange-coloured blossoms had a remarkably gay and rich effect.

At Settimo we saw a beautiful girl, with the true Grecian line of feature, long oval cheek, dark pale skin (fine and smooth as marble or ivory), curled red lips, with long cut black eyes and straight eyebrows; her profile was not unlike that of Mrs. E., so celebrated in her day for regularity of outline.

Between Settimo and Chivasco we passed over a curious bridge, formed of planks, thrown across four boats, which were fixed immoveably in the river, by strong cords fastened to posts. The shape of these boats, and also of many we observed upon the Po, resembled that of an Indian canoe. The turnpike was a little thatched hut, erected upon the middle of this bridge. Refusing to comply with the importunities of an old Italian beggar woman here, she poured forth a volume of various maledictions upon us; being not at all inferior in this sort of eloquence to the amazons of our St. Giles's or Billingsgate.

The money (gold coins, I mean) of Italy are of very pure metal, without alloy; you may (as a proof of it) bend them into any shape with the fingers.

An accident happened to us near Rondizzone, which was rather alarming, but happily passed over without any serious consequences. The bridle of the centre horse breaking, we were violently run away with by the hot-headed animals; nor could the postillion stop them by any effort. This was rendered more distressing by the circumstance of our going down a steep hill at the moment. We called out repeatedly, and waved our hands for assistance to one or two peasants who were passing, making signs for them to catch the bridle, if possible; but they seemed to turn a deaf ear to our entreaties, never offering to make the smallest attempt to relieve us. By the time we reached the bottom of the hill, however, which was fortunately a long one, the creatures felt tired, and stopped of themselves.

At Cigliano we took a dejeuné at L'Albergo Reale, and while it was preparing, stood in the open gallery on the outside of the house, gathering from a vine, which overshadowed it, the most delicious Frontigniac grapes that I ever remember to have tasted: indeed their flavour was exquisite, but the people did not appear to think them of any particular value, leaving them freely to the attacks of every traveller. Here we first drank the vino d'Asti, a light wine of the country, which we thought extremely pleasant, tasting like the best sweet cyder. I formerly thought that the flies of this country would probably be much of the same sort as those in England; but they turned out far more impertinently troublesome, inflicting their tiny torments without mercy, being equally obnoxious to man and beast; a true impudent, blood-sucking race! This reminds me, that under the head of vermin, I ought to have recorded a disagreeable surprise felt by Mr. B. at the Opera at Turin: feeling something tickle his forehead, he put up his hand, and caught hold of a monstrous black spider, at least four inches in circumference. The people at the hotel, to whom we related the circumstance, said it was rather an uncommon thing, but which sometimes occurred. The country, since we turned our backs upon Turin, was monotonous, and only relieved by the chain of Alps in the distance.

At San Germano we observed a very graceful costume among the peasant girls, and women of all ages; those who were advanced to extreme old age still continuing it without any variation. I allude to the wearing silver pins or bodkins in the hair behind, the long tresses of which are tied together with a narrow black riband, and divided into two braids. These are then coiled into a round shape at the back of the head, and fastened to the roots of the hair by these ornamental pins, which are about a finger in length, and have large heads, like beads. Their points form the radii of a circle, and are plainly discovered amid the shadowy locks which they thus support. The landscape here was flat and uninteresting; but we remarked a great deal of pasture land. The trees chiefly consisted of stunted willows, planted in straight lines. There were no villas, or even hamlets, to be seen, and the tout ensemble was almost as tame and as ugly as that of the Netherlands. The first dulcet notes of true Italian music, we heard at Vercelli: a baker's wife, who lived next door to the Albergo della Posta (where we stopped to change horses), sat working and singing in her shop. It was the most elegant, yet simple, air imaginable, and her voice possessed the soft mellifluous tones of a faint but mellow flute. She had a peculiar ease and flexibility also in the execution of several charming and brilliant little graces, which delighted me. I thought it was extremely improbable that this woman could have had the advantage of a master in the art; and yet her style was finished in the most perfect sense of the word; being simple, yet refined; pathetic, yet chastely ornamented. She was plain in face and person; but her lips half open looked almost pretty, as she emitted these sweet sounds, without discomposing a muscle. An effect was thus produced, without effort or instruction, which is frequently denied in our country to the pupils of the most celebrated teachers, although every exertion has been cheerfully and indefatigably made, both by master and scholar. But there is no convincing some people that there are things which are not to be taught. Had I a daughter, I would never allow her the assistance of a music master until I perceived, by unequivocal tokens, that nature had qualified her to do credit to his instructions; and hence waste of time, patience, temper, and money, would be avoided. My baker's wife I shall never forget; and if her example would have opened the eyes of half the world in England (who really seem to be music-mad in the present age), I wish that she had had an opportunity of exhibiting her gift, and of mortifying the silly ambition, while she soothed the ears of them all. How have I smiled to see people toiling to acquire the knowledge of composition and thorough base, when I have been certain that they have not possessed a spark of native genius to enable them to make any use of these rules after all. Prometheus formed an image, but it was only fire from heaven that could make that image man!