Part 45

We will here step out for the present and wind our way through the narrow streets lined with tiny stores and shops filled with all that art and taste can conceive of, following the multitude like a swarm of bees through the intricate lanes and alleys from four to twelve feet in width, in order not to lose our way; we will suppose it is eight or nine o’clock in the evening, and they are proceeding to the public square San Marco, which has been lighted with gas since my last visit here. Venice has some four hundred cafés, and here under the porticos of the palaces forming the large piazza, or square, are twenty-five of them, with thousands of chairs and benches for the accommodation of the immense throng, where fashion and beauty partake of ices, and other refreshments, listening to the music of the Austrian band, the interim being filled with the songs and recitations of strolling minstrels. Baskets of confectionery are moving about in the crowd, and groups of promenaders saunter along the well-paved and commodious piazza, which has scarcely a particle of dust to soil their beautiful dresses. There in front stands the Cathedral San Marco, now nearly eight hundred years old, with its symmetrical cupolas and façade of porphyry and other antique marbles, its scriptural figures in golden mosaic, and its four bronze horses brought from Corinth, taken to Paris by Napoleon, but afterwards restored.

There stands the Campanilla, three hundred and thirty-four feet in height, from which a fair view may be obtained by daylight, and near by is the Doge’s Palace, in all its grandeur, communicating by the Bridge of Sighs with the prisons. The columns of the Lion of San Marco and Saint Theodore stand towering in bold relief as you approach the water’s edge, where hundreds of gondolas are waiting to receive their precious freight.

This is the bright side of the picture. My letter is now too extended to give in detail the private communications of those who suffer in spirit and in purse from the arbitrary exactions of the power which now gores them.

CXVI.

COMO, LAKE OF COMO, _July 29, 1856_.

Recovering from temporary indisposition at Venice, I made up for lost time in revisiting several cities already seen, such as Padua, Verona, Milan, Bergamo, Vicenza, and made several detours to visit points that I was not familiar with, such as the Lago di Garda, whose beautiful waters will compare favorably with Lago Maggiore and Lago Como.

The whole distance from the fortification of Peschiera to Riva, at the head of the Lake, is made by a small Austrian steamer in six hours, touching at the different villages upon its well cultivated banks, abounding with millions of orange and lemon trees--a source of a great profit for exportation. This region is protected by mountains, some as high as six thousand feet, with deep blue waters, romantic waterfalls, amphitheatred walls, olive groves and climbing vineyards all around. Although in the north of Italy, approaching Switzerland, the climate in winter is mild, and fogs are quite unknown; the Lake never freezes.

Proceeding to Milan, the Lombardian capital, by rail and land conveyance, I was induced to strike off south-east to visit Pavia, noted for its University containing nine hundred students, and its collection of anatomy and natural history. Twenty miles distant is Lodi, rendered memorable by Napoleon in the famous battle crossing the bridge over the rapid river Adda. I found great preparations making for the festival of the patron saint of the city, whose remains, dating from the fourth century, were being transmitted from the old vault in the basement or crypt of the cathedral to a new sculptured marble tomb. The sarcophagus was of solid silver, with double crystal plates inserted in the sides and cover, exposing to view the skeleton; the bones were joined together with silver wire, and reposed upon a couch of silk and velvet. The rush of the multitude was so great, I could scarcely gain access to the altar; men and women were there with rosaries and handkerchiefs in their hands; and a priest in attendance was busily engaged in passing these articles over the relics of the consecrated saint; after which, when communicated to an afflicted part, they were thought to give relief.

The beautiful plains through which I passed are irrigated at will with abundance of water; the aqueducts were lined with willows, and other trees, affording shade the entire length of the road between the two cities. The rice plantations are beautiful indeed, surpassing in verdure anything I have seen of the kind in the Carolinas or East Indies; but the miasma is productive of fevers, and the peasantry live in villages remote from the inundated fields.

Each city has its objects of interest. Padua boasts of the villa of Petrarch in the vicinity; its stupendous church of the patron saint Antonio; its University with fifteen hundred students, bearing upon its walls the antique armorial insignia of the many noble youths educated there; its library, its anatomical collection, and fifty-five thousand inhabitants.

Verona, rather more populous, has its attractions; its old amphitheatre, in the same style as the Coliseum at Rome, one thousand four hundred and seventy feet in circumference, with forty-five rows of seats, and with places for twenty-five thousand persons, is in remarkable preservation; in the arena is now erected a _Teatro Diurno_. These day-theatres are without roofs; the performance commences at six P.M., and is generally frequented. The tomb of Juliet, in an old convent, is only of interest for the romantic story of herself and of her lover Romeo. The house of the Capulets also exists. The position of Verona, divided by the river Etsch, with its high hills strongly fortified by the Austrians, is almost impregnable withal, and picturesque; it has become, with its garrison, a second Mantua.

Vicenza, a smaller city of thirty-five thousand population, has its antique public square, government house, palace of justice, with arcades worth looking in upon, and a fine view from the summit of a hill in the suburbs. A covered gallery some two thousand feet in length leads the pilgrim to the convent of the Madonna of the Mountain. An antique Olympic theatre in the city attracts strangers. From the benches of the amphitheatre I was struck with a singular perspective receding from the stage of a miniature city of Greekish architecture, representing streets, houses, and professions. While examining the old structure of wood, decorated with ornamental figures, I made some comparisons which were responded to by my conductress, a beautiful girl of light complexion and golden locks. Upon questioning the girl, I found that she spoke English, although of Italian birth; every city and province has its peculiar tongue, and only the educated speak Italian. It is in Tuscany alone where the language is spoken in its purity. I have been in dining rooms where there were several groups at the tables speaking Neapolitan, Genoese, Milanese, and other dialects, without understanding each other, yet all were Italians. One can well conceive the difficulty of regenerating a people where such objections to unity are met with, and where local prejudices are so strong. One fine morning in Milan, twenty-one guns announced to us the telegraphic news from Vienna of the birth of a princess to the House of Austria. Notwithstanding the disappointment (a prince had been hoped for), great preparations having been made at the Duomo for the celebration, it came off in this world-wide renowned edifice with the usual pomp and ceremony of church, civil, and military parade.

The Corso Francesco in Milan has many elegant cafés, which were quite desolate for two or three days, in consequence of the seizure of foreign journals giving the debates in England upon Italian affairs. The old papers were read and re-read, and almost worn through; the evident disgust and under-toned denunciation of the powers that be could not pass unobserved.

CXVII.

ZURICH, _Aug. 16, 1856_.

Leaving the beautiful lake of Como, with its lovely villas, cultivated gardens, vineyards, and picturesque views, I started for Switzerland, via the lake of Lugano.

The Austrian frontier of Lombardy is soon reached, and one finds himself in the Canton of Ticino. Upon crossing the bridge of Chiaso into Swiss territory, one soon discovers the effect of free government and liberal principles in the public schoolhouses, in the culture and manufacture of tobacco, in the relief from annoyances of passports and examination of luggage. A quarter of a mile from there, tobacco is a monopoly, and its growth is prohibited; here it is produced in considerable quantities, and manufactured for exportation.

The town of Lugano, prettily situated upon the borders of the lake, surrounded by romantic scenery, is considerably frequented, and foreign journals may be read there without the intermeddling of the censor-police.

On the opposite side of the lake is the village of Castigleone, in Austrian territory, at the foot of a steep mountain; it is accessible only by land, over the Swiss high-road. Here the people enjoy comparative freedom, and are exempt from military proscription; but in these mountainous regions of Switzerland many women are afflicted with huge swellings of the neck, which are frightful to behold, and are attributed to the water of the country.

Among the twenty-two Cantons of Switzerland, there were four which I had never seen; neither had I yet passed the Splugen and St. Bernardino, which are of great interest; so I was induced to finish the work. The St. Bernardino must not be confounded with the great St. Bernard, which I passed some years since on mule-back, with my guide, in the early part of the month of June, among the avalanches and snow banks twenty feet deep, and was happy to find refuge among the monks of the convent, who greeted me as the first traveller of the season, and were longing for the news of Rome during the Holy Week. The Simplon I had formerly crossed in the month of October, upon a sled for one person, made of hoop-poles, with my trunk lashed thereto. Mount Cenis I passed two years since, on my way from Turin to Chamberry, under favorable circumstances, without exposure or fatigue, and now with the lateness of the season I had nothing but beautiful scenery to expect, four months of the year being considered free from danger.

From Lugano I proceeded to Bellinzona, in an open carriage, having a fine view of the valleys and lakes in the distance below; it was a five hours ride. We departed at midnight. With the early dawn we found ourselves climbing up the zigzag mountain sides, among its scattered villages, and houses of rude stone construction, whose slate-roofs were secured from the high winds by huge stones; the shepherds were in simple costume, tending their herds of goats and sheep; the limited culture of grain was still green, while in the valleys it was already harvested. We breakfasted at a village of five or six houses, mostly inns, near the summit of the mountain, covered with snow, where the stunted pines show that vegetation nearly ceases. This place, called Bernardino, had some one hundred and fifty visitors making use of the waters, which are strongly charged with iron; this and bracing mountain air and climbing walks are particularly strengthening for some constitutions. The mountain once passed, the gorges and ravines of the Splugen and Via Mala are singularly grand and beautiful, with every variety of romantic and picturesque scenery. At one moment I could imagine myself, on some accounts, upon the mountains of Chili, from the winding and circuitous road; then again the descent into one valley for some miles, brought to mind our own Alleghanies from Frostburgh to Cumberland. But the Via Mala caps the climax for its excavations, bridges, stone-covered arches and tunnels, deep ravines and precipices, where the head-waters of the river Rhine, gushing and foaming between high ledges of rocks, may almost be leaped. The warm rays of the sun, the cheerful villages, the grape fields, the farmers gathering their grain, the disappearance of the chestnut-trees, upon the fruit of which the mountain peasantry subsist, the throwing off of overcoats, the Italian tongue replaced by the German and Swiss, all show conclusively that we are in the valley, and across the Alps.

The Rhine receives another branch at Reichenau, and requires another bridge to cross it; this bridge is directly in front of the chateau where Louis Philippe served two years as a schoolmaster.

We are in the Canton Grison, the largest of Switzerland, and at five P.M. we find ourselves at Chur, a post town of five thousand inhabitants, in a lovely country. After eighteen hours ride from Bellinzona we were disposed to rest, and take a few baths at Pfaffers, some miles beyond.

The place just named has become somewhat celebrated of late years among the Germans, and is much resorted to for its healing waters, and its elevated position in the mountain gorges. There were some two hundred and fifty visitors. The Duchess of Orleans, with her family, passed the summer at Ragatz, and now Count Nesselrode is expected.

From the last point named, in the Canton San Gall, I proceeded across the country to the Wallenstadt Lake, upon which steamers are employed, and by diligence to the head of Lake Zurich. Lake Zurich, with its well-cultivated borders, numerous villages, and many steamers, I have seen before; still the whole trip was full of interest. Our boat was crowded with tourists of all races. One heard all the different languages, a perfect Babel, or confusion of tongues, which is not to be wondered at, as the present railroad and steamer facilities bring at this season of the year multitudes from all sources over the beaten tracks and most accessible parts of the Swiss territory. Among our passengers was a party of young men from one of the Swiss Cantons, with their arms, flags, and distinguishing badges, going to the Turn-Verein yearly festival, at Winterthur, a two hours ride by rail from this city. I was curious to witness this celebration, represented by delegations or companies from the twenty-two Cantons of Switzerland. A large building was put at the disposition of the Union, with an inclosure in the rear, and stages were erected for ladies and gentlemen who desired to see the gymnastic exercises, leaping, jumping, climbing, etc. A tower was constructed, covered by the colors of all the Cantons. The prizes, many wrought by the ladies, were suspended within; judges were appointed to decide upon the merits of the performers; and it must be admitted that among the number, which was upwards of five hundred, some extraordinary feats of agility were performed. The free use of arms and target firing, which I have noticed, and in which they are expert, and which would not be allowed in despotic countries, reminds one of home, and the freedom of the people there.

Switzerland has also its Baden, which may be reached by rail in one hour from this city. It is a charming place of resort for those who cannot go to the banks of the Rhine. The German watering places have more attractions, and the waters are more salutary.

I am desirous of seeing the upper portion of the Cantons St. Gall and Appenzell, after which I purpose taking the Lake of Constance via Schaffhausen into Germany, where I hope to use the waters of Wiesbaden, which were of service to me the early part of last summer.

CXVIII.

WIESBADEN, GERMANY, _Sept. 15, 1856_.

Zurich is not only justly celebrated for its lovely position and beautiful lake, and its good hotels, but for its increasing silk trade, which rivals to some extent that of Lyons in France. It now has connexion by railway with the industrious canton of St. Gall and the Lake of Constance.

I was struck with the marked progress the Swiss have made in the manufacture of cotton, and noticed in several places many large factories, four and five stories high, comparing favorably with the mills in the villages of New England. The raw material used in the eastern counties is mostly Egyptian; transportation is long and tedious, via Trieste or Venice over the railway and mountain routes.

St. Gall is appreciated by the ladies. Its ten thousand population live and thrive, and its merchants grow rich, out of its fancy embroidery trade, now greatly extended in our country.

The inhabitants of the Canton of Appenzell, situated from one thousand to fifteen hundred feet above the level of Lake Constance, are mostly engaged in this kind of labor. The Canton is nearly equally divided between Protestants and Catholics, who live separately, scarcely ever intermarrying, and pursuing different styles of work. The country is a grazing one; the people subsist mostly upon cheese and milk. The supply of wheat and rye comes from Bavaria, Wirtemburg, and Austrian Tyrol, and from Roorschach, upon the Lake.

It is curious to see the occupants of all the houses in the villages and in the country, boys and girls, men and women, when not engaged at other work, busy with their forms and patterns before them, plying the needle. In the villages the children commence at eight years old, but in the country they put them at it at the age of six. As persons advance in years, and their sight becomes weak, they perform coarse work. The houses are all constructed with a line of front windows, close together, for the admission of light. The gain derived from this kind of labor is about ten cents per day, upon the average. The Catholic portion of the Canton still adhere to all descriptions of light work; the others turn their attention more to Vorhang Stuckerei, or curtain embroidery, dresses, and under-garments, and succeed better. One of the worst features in this early application is the entire deprivation of education, and the consequent ignorance of the masses.

Weisbad is an agreeable, quiet resort in that mountainous country, with good hotels, shady walks, pleasant company, but with little virtue in its waters. A number of the party who had not climbed mountains, and seen the sun rise, started off at three A.M. for a peak some thousands of feet high. My souvenirs of Norwegian, Chilian, Teneriffe, Spanish, and Sicilian sunrises and sunsets were still vivid, and I declined the invitation.

A very excellent view is had from a mountain called Peter and Paul, a few miles from St. Galls; this view extends over the Lake of Constance, Bregenz in Tyrol, Lindau in Bavaria, Friedrichshafen in Würtemberg, and Rorschach, which is a part of St. Gall, six miles distant. At Bregenz, the St. Gebhardsberg, or mountain, a place of pilgrimage, is the most frequented. The great festival is on the birthday of St. Gebhard (August 27), who, in the 12th century, was Bishop of Constance, and whose history is rather interesting. The church, built upon the site of the old family castle, was commenced by a hermit in the year 1670. The ascent is rather fatiguing for three-quarters of an hour, but one is well repaid for the labor. A magnificent view is obtained from its summit over the lake and surrounding country. Here the Rhine flows into the lake.

At Lindau, where I once had debarked _en route_ for Augsburg and Munich, a tedious mail-coach ride, I now found the railroad complete, and at Friedrichshafen another to conduct one to Ulm and Stuttgart, over a road which I had travelled formerly at snail’s pace. When I was first in Europe, in 1840–42, and travelled pretty generally over the continent, I found only six pieces of railway, and now we have a perfect network in all directions; except in Spain, Southern Italy, Greece, Turkey, and the extreme northern regions, facilities are constantly multiplying. The transport from one point to another is without loss of time, as formerly; consequently, the tourist has more opportunities to see the cities.

The length of the lake from Bregenz to Constanz is about thirty-eight miles; then, by steamer, you take the meandering Rhine, as it flows out through the valleys, with its hills, chateaux, and vineyards, to the town of Schaffhausen, near the falls. Coming down the lake, before landing at Friedrichshafen, we met the Queen of Würtemberg and suite, on a pleasure excursion. The steamer was decorated with flags, and salutes of cannons were exchanged. The presence of the royal family in the palace and pretty grounds forbids the entrance of strangers, but the gate-keeper, in the absence of his royal mistress, could not resist the silver-key, and conducted me throughout. Here royalty is inclosed in high stone walls, with an ample park, trees, shrubbery, and flowers, bubbling fountains, and elevated shady look-outs upon the margin of the beautiful sheet of water; surrounded with luxuries and liveried servants, it is unconscious probably of the want and privation of many within a stone’s throw. But if Germany is satisfied to support thirty-two princes and potentates in pomp and extravagance, we have no right to complain.

The city of Constanz has nothing of great interest, aside from its antique cathedral, built in 1052, and now in process of restoration, and the old building and saloon of the famous Council of 1414–1418, with their contents.

We left there at twelve A.M. and arrived at Schaffhausen at five P.M. Passengers dine on deck _à la carte_, and enjoy the varied views in passing.

I found great changes since my last visit to the falls of the Rhine. The huge rock upon which stands the castle, containing picture galleries, sale rooms and Camera Obscura, has been tunnelled, and the stone arches for the railroad bridge are being constructed across the river. We visited all the attractive points of view, and shortly after ferrying across with our light skiff, in the misty clouds of spray and the deafening roar, and getting in the large Hotel Webber, on the summit of the hill directly in front of the waterfall, there came up a severe thunderstorm, and in the dulness of the night, the repeated flashes of lightning lent additional interest to the scene. The weather cleared up, however, and the full moon’s rays gave us all the advantages of a night view. An hour’s ride brings one by diligence to the frontier of the Duchy of Baden, and seven hours more, to Freiburg, which is one of the cleanest towns I have met with. Streams of water course through all the streets. The Cathedral, built by the celebrated Erwin von Steinbach, the architect of the Strasburg edifice, with a tower almost as high as that of the Cathedral; the illuminated glass windows; things there attract even when one is fatigued with works of art.

Here we strike a lightning line, or “_Schnell Zug_,” which carries one to Baden-Baden.

This being my third visit, I was not induced to make a long _sejour_, but came by rail to Frankfort on the Main. I spent a day or two at Homburg, in the vicinity. My object was to get to this place to avail myself of the benefit of these waters for bathing and drinking; and here I am, up at six in the morning, and at the hot, boiling spring, guzzling my three or four glasses, at intervals of a short walk, with no lack of company. Then comes a bath, repose for a while, warmly covered, and afterwards a light breakfast. There are two _table d’hôtes_, at one and four P.M., and music in the morning at the Healing Fountain, and in the afternoon at the Kursaal, with its beautiful shady walks through the extended grounds.

CXIX.

HANOVER, _Nov. 15, 1856_.

I came down the Rhine to Cologne and Dusseldorf, and took the road to Elberfeld, a large German manufacturing place, worth looking at. Its trade in woollen, cotton, and silk goods amounts annually to some twelve millions of our currency, and is well known to our importers.