22 September Got up. Could not get mules under 18 francs: my foot too bad to walk. Went with Captain Rice and others back to Interlachen. Got into a boat rowed by two men and a boy. Went by Brientz, Calne, to the Griesbach castle, and then to Brientz – wilder, but not so beautiful as the Lake of Thun. The cascade I did not mount to see on account of my foot. At Brientz an old woman would give us her presence and conversation till one of my companions courted the daughter. Met between Grindenwald and Interlachen LB and Mr H: we saluted.
23 September Got up at 4. Tired of my company; and, finding the expense more than I could afford, I went to their bedrooms to wish them good-bye. Set off at 5½; and through fine copse-wooded crags, along the Aar, with cascades on every side, to Meyringen; where I breakfasted with two Germans, and old and a young artist – the old, chatty. Bought a pole. Went to see the Reichenbach, a fine cascade indeed. Thence through the beautiful vale of Nachim-Grunden, where for a moment I planned a sovereignty; but, walking on, my plans faded before I arrived at Guttannen, where I dined.
Rode all the way to-day – horrible, only passable for men and mules: it is the way to St Gothard. The road is merely huge unequal masses of granite thrown in a line not the straightest. From Guttannen the road went through the wildest and most sublime scenery I ever read of: vegetation less and less, so that, instead of grass, there was moss; then nothing. Instead of trees, shrubs; then nothing – huge granite rocks leaving hardly room for the road and river. The river’s bed the most magnificent imaginable, cut deep and narrow into the solid rock, sinous, and continually accompanied by cascades, and amazing bold and high single-arched bridges. Snow covering in some parts the whole bed of the river, and so thick and strong that even huge stones have fallen without injuring its crust. There are only two houses between Guttannen and the Hospital: one, a chalet wherein I entered; the other, a cow-herd’s. Arrived at 6 o’clock precisely, having walked in only 9½ hours 30 miles at least.
The Hospital is an old stone ugly building, consonant with the wild scene, where the poor are lodged for nothing; others, us, an inn.
24 September On account of rain did not get up till 7, set off across the Grimsel, a dreary mountain with snow in every hollow – 5,000 feet above the Four-canton Lake. Descended on the other side to Obergustellen, where I breakfasted at 10. Thence through Verlican, Guesquerman, Munster, Rexingen. Biel, Blizzen; where, out of the dead flat valley, I began to mount, and the scenery began to increase in beauty. One bridge especially over the Rhone, which fell between two clefts’ sides, was beautiful. Sinderwald, Viesch, pine-wood; sax along the rocks, and fine path along the mountain. Very fine, though continued hard rain, which drenched me and hindered my seeing a great deal. To Morel, where I went to bed, and ate a kind of dinner in bed at 7 o’clock.
25 September Up at 5; my foot, from having been obliged to walk with the shoe down at heel, very much swelled and too painful to walk. Breakfast. Two students from Brieg, of the Jesuits’ College, came in, who had during the vacations been beyond Constance with only two écus neufs in their pockets. It costs them ten batsches a year at College. Impudent one: the other modest-looking, but, when I gave him six francs because he had no more money, he asked me for more on other accounts. The Jesuits been restored two years.
At Brieg I sent for the curate, a good old man of sixty. We conversed together in Latin for two hours; not at all troublesome in enquiries, but kind in answering them. The Valaisians resisted two years against the French in 93. It was the only part of the country in which they did so, except Unterwalden, and then it was only the peasants, and in every village there was a French party. The cruelty of the French was dreadful; they stuck their prisoners in a variety of ways like sheep. One old man of eighty, who had never left his house but whom they found eating, they strangled, and then put meat and bottles by him as if he had died apoplectic. They fought very hard and bravely, but such was the power of numbers united to the force of treachery that they were obliged to yield. In 1813, after the French had quitted Brieg, they again attempted to penetrate from Italy by the Simplon; when the Brieg, Kelor, and other villagers, joined by only one company of Austrians, surrounded them in the night, and took them prisoners. In Schwytz and Unterwalden the division was more strongly marked. In Unterwalden (where was the scene) the men divided and fought against each other, some joining the French from Stanz to Engelberg. They were for freedom, and fought as the cause deserved. They killed 5,000 French, more than double their own number; women fought; they were in all 2,100 Swiss. One maid in the ranks, when her comrades were obliged to retreat, seeing a cannon yet unfired, went with a rope-end and fired it, killing thirty French. She was taken; a pardon was offered. She said, ‘I do not acknowledge any pardon; my action is not pardonable; a thief pardons, not a just man.’ They killed her with swords. The hundred men who came from the higher part of Schwytz, attempting to go to their relief, were through their own countrymen forced to cut their way and march by night; and, when in retreating they came to the other shore of Lucerne Lake, they had again to cut through their own countrymen to arrive at their homes, they refusing them permission to pass. The Austrians, for the help the higher Valaisians gave them, from sovereigns have made them subjects to the lower Valaisians.
The curate came in again, with a description of the Simplon; sat an hour and a half, then left the book. When not here I have written the part of my Journal I missed at the time, and the extract from this book. He came in again about 6 with a basket of prunes for me, and offered to go with me half-way, as he had to go to a church on the way.
26 September Got up at 5. The curate came, and, my foot being better, I set off. He showed me the bridge over the Massa where was a battle, and the ruins of a tyrant’s tower. We came to his church, where he showed me the miraculous figure that was found in the Rhone. He told me the lower Valaisians were ready to join the French in ’13, and that, in spite of this, they had given them a majority of voices. Left me in sight of Brieg, telling me he hoped to see me again in heaven. I walked on to Brieg; breakfasted, and then set off along the Simplon, a magnificent road indeed. It is cut in many places through the rocks, in others built up to its side. It has caverns and bridges always wide enough for four carriages; it ascends all the way to the new Hospice, and again descends from it. At its side are houses of refuge (as they are called) where many are kept by government, with privilege of selling food to help the passers-by. There is in each a room with a bed where one can go in case of rain, accident, etc; and, when the time for avalanches etc., these men are obliged to accompany the travellers from house to house. Just where the rising ends the new Hospital was to have been erected, and is half done, but stopped now. A little farther on is the old one; whither I went, and got a dinner in the cell of one of the monks; bread, wine, cold meat, and nuts. He seemed very ennuyé; his words slowly fell; said they were St Augustines, not St Bernardites. That St Bernard was a mere reformer of the order. They have been here since 1810 only, in an old castle for which they pay £20 a year. The Simplon was a department of France, and rather well off on account of the quantity of work and money, and not having the droits revenues. The Archduke Regnier was there a few days ago incog., and they did not recognise him – which mortified them very much. It is six leagues hither from Brieg, so that I had walked twenty-six miles.
I set off at 2: passed through Sempeln, and through the most magnificent scenery, through the granite galleries. The Italian part is by far the most difficult and splendid. The first boy that I met before coming to Italy, in answer to a question in German, answered, ‘Non capisco’; I could have hugged. I arrived after much difficulty at Isella, knocked up. I was ruined in my feet, and it was not till near here that the carriages which parted in the morning from Brieg overtook me. Went to bed immediately in a room where the grease might be scraped from the floor.
27 September Did not get up till 1 on account of fatigue. Breakfasted most miserably, everything being bad; and then set off, but immensely slowly with red st
ripes here and there; the men more acute and quicker-eyed. Arrived at Domo d’Ossola at 3; got into a clean though poor inn, and dined well. A gendarme came in to ask how it was that my passport had not been viséd yet; and then, seeing I was a physician, requested a cure for his toothache. It is useless to describe the picturesque: the best page to turn to for it is the memory. After one of the most comfortable fireside-evenings I have had since I left Geneva I went to bed at 7½.
28 September Set off at 6 o’clock through vine-country, with little hills here and there starting out of the low Alps, highly cultivated, with beautiful little white villas at their tops and sides. Asked a woman what was a house whereon was painted a Democritus, Diogenes, etc. Answered, ‘È roba antica’ – though evidently modern, but deserted. Indeed the whole of the houses seem too large for the inhabitants – much falling to ruin. From Domo d’Ossola went to Vella; to Vagagna, where I breakfasted and saw the first good-looking Italian girl. The children are pretty, the women quite otherwise. There began to suffer from my feet so much as that to go six more miles took me five hours. No car passed me, or anything.
I arrived at last at Ornavasco. Could get no car, though they kept me half-an-hour in the yard standing, in hopes of getting one. At last agreed with a man that he should set off at 4 o’clock to-morrow to Fariolo for 4 francs. Looked at a bedroom: shrugged up my shoulders, but forced. Dinner: no meat, because ‘meagre’. Ate the fruit. The Italian grapes, nectarines, peaches, and pears, I got yesterday, excellent. Two bunches of grapes half-a-franc: two at dinner.
29 September Up at 5. Got into the char, or rather cart. Passed through Gravellino to Fariolo. Asked 10 francs to take me to Laveno: offered 4 – accepted. Got into the boat. Rowed towards Isola Madre; passed Isola Pescatori; and landed on Isola Bella.
Went over the palace. Many of the floors miserable on account of their being the mere rock. Some good pictures. A whole set of rooms below in the style of grottoes, with windows looking on to beautiful views, close to the lake for il fresco. Looked at the terrace: not pleasing the style: and, thinking I should see it all in going round, did not go over the gardens. Went round the island in the boat; magnificently paved, like terrace on terrace.
Thence towards Laveno, intending to go to Lugano and Como; but, hearing that I could go all the way by water to Milan, I preferred this, and accordingly turned round towards Belgirato. Breakfasted on caffè al latte, uve, and fichi, 4½ francs. Boatmen proposed my joining a party to Sestri-Calende, which I did. Arona, with the colossus, on my left, Anghera on my right; Monte Rosa; all the bottom part of the lake richly magnificent.
Arrived at an inn – taken for a servant. After some time things got round, when in came two soldiers with swords by their sides, to desire me to step to the police-inspector. I did, and found he could not read the writing in my passport. The boatman came soon after, offering me a plan for to-morrow for five francs, and showing me twelve naps. they got for the boat – which cost only seventy francs. Agreed.
30 September Up at 5. Off at 6 in a large barge, with yesterday’s English party and two carriages, by the Tessino and canal to Milan: at first through a fine hilly country, and rapidly by the Tessino flood. After, slower, and through a flat plain with trees and neat villas and hanging grapes, to Milan. Slept out of town by the canal.
1 October Up at 7. The boatman came as I had desired, to guide me. Entered Milan by a fine gate with a kind of triumphal arch. The streets are clean but narrow – fine houses. There are two strips of pavement for wheels, and often two for pedestrians. Passed by Santa Maria – fine, all white marble, with many fine statues on the outside. Many palaces. A bad taste shown in plastering the columns and corner-stones of a lighter colour than the body.
Got a letter from Brelaz; well written in composition and in letters, but badly spelled. Got my trunk, after some difficulty, passed. The diligence-keepers asked if they could direct me to rooms: showed two where a man was at that moment going. Got them for 40 lire il mese; a bedroom and sitting-room, second storey, Contrado San Spirito. Sent to the custom-house. Made the men wait – sent them away for two hours, again away for one. More stoppages, and, in centimes, 3 francs to pay. They would not at first let it (the trunk) go because it was the last day of the month.
Went to dine at a restaurateur’s: 1½-franc dinner.
Afterwards put my things into a little order, dressed, and went strolling towards Teatro della Scala. Entered, two hours before beginning, alone. Immense theatre: six rows of boxes, with, I think, thirty-six in a row. La Testa di Bronzo, a ballet, and a comic ballet: the ballet the most magnificent thing I ever saw – splendid indeed.
2 October Got up at 8. Breakfasted on grapes, bread and butter, wine, and figs. Wrote to Lord Byron. Dressed. Went to Marchese Lapone – out of town; Monsignor Brema – not at home. Walked about looking at booksellers’ shops. Entered the Duomo – invisible almost, so black and dark. They were putting up drapery for Friday, which is the Emperor’s birthday (probably the same as for Napoleon). Returned home, arranged my papers. Took a walk on the Corso; then to the Teatro Rè. The same price for all the places. The piece Il Sogno di Ariosto, where Fortune, Merit, Orgoglio, with Mrs Disinganno, were all personified. The dialogue abounded in truths, especially regarding women, which they applauded. The theatre is very small, like the Haymarket. Home to bed.
3 October Up at 8. Went to a circulating library: read Denina, Vicende, all the part on Italy and preface. To the Teatro Scelto di Milano. Enquired about Andricini etc. for my father – not found.
Went to the Teatro Rè; a play of English people in which they kiss the hand, and make more bows than were ever made in a century in England. There were German soldiers in English uniforms present. Home to bed.
4 October Up at 8 – breakfasted. Went to call on Monsignore Brême – found him. Received me with two kisses and great apparent joy. About to learn English: I promise my help. Walked with me, and invited me to his box.
Left him – came home. Read Denina’s Ultime Vicende, a poor book. Went to Guyler. Met Caravella – walked with him. Went to dine: where I met his brother, who told me the physician at Florence was dead, and promised to come and take me to the hospital. Met after dinner Abate Berlezi the Crabule. Came home. Read the Calandra of Bibiena, and Sofonisba of Trissino. Took an ice, and went to La Scala. Feast of St Francis, the Emperor’s. When the Dukes went this morning to mass at the Duomo not a hat moved, not a voice of applause: however, when Regnier entered, there was a slight clapping of hands. The theatre was lighted up like an English one, and was magnificent, but showed what the Italians allege – that the scene does not improve by it, but the contrary.
In Brema’s lodge there were Monti, Brema’s mother, and others. Monti a short man, round face, quick eye; pleasant in conversation, not haughty, modest, unassuming: seemed to take great pleasure in parts of the music and in the dancing.
Brema related that a friend of his, Porro, asked for a passport to Rome: refused, and asked for documents to prove his business. Gave what proved he had business at Maurata, and relatives at Rome. Refused. Went to Swarrow, who told him he could not give it. Porro said: ‘Why do the Austrians think the Italians are always making conspiracies?’ Swarrow said that they did not know, but, now that they had the upper hand, they cared not; and at last that, if Porro would give his word of honour not to visit any of the foreign embassies, he should have a passport, He had it. Porro was not a revolutionist but had always been against Napoleon, and had belonged to a legislative body by him dissolved on account of obstinacy. Brema and others accompanied me as far as the door, and I went to bed.
From that day I neglected by Journal till this day,
8 December My residence at Milan lasted till October 30. During that time I had a most happy and pleasant life, Monsignor De Brême taking great friendship for me. My friends and acquaintance were Brême, Borsieri, Guasco, Cavalier Brême, Beyle, Negri, Byron, Hobhouse, Finch, Caravellas, Locatelli, Monti, Monti’s son-in-law, Lord Cowper, Lord J
ersey, etc.; Lloyd, Lee, Wotheron.
De Brême and I became very intimate, and I believe he is really a good friend. In the morning at 10 o’clock I went to him to help him in English, and towards the end he corrected my Italian translation of Count Orlando. We afterwards met at his box every night in the theatre of La Scala. He gave a dinner to Lord Byron, at which were a good many or rather all my acquaintances – Monti, Finch, Hobhouse, two Brêmes, Borsieri, Guasco (translator of Brême was Vicar Almoner under the French Government). A priest came to him to ask leave to confess; Brême, knowing the subject, refused. The Princess was put to move Beauharnais, who sent for Brême and in a very angry mood asked him why he had refused leave. B said that, as he was placed to give him leave, he imagined it was that it might not be granted indiscriminately, that he could not in his conscience give it, but that he was not the chief, and the Almoner, being applied to, might grant it. B asked why, saying that the Princess wished it, and it must be done. De B said he had undertaken the office under the idea that his conscience was to be his guide; if not, the office should be immediately vacant; that he put it to Beauharnais himself whether a man who was buried in the vilest dissoluteness was a proper person to be entrusted with the care of young women’s minds. Beauharnais said, ‘Right, right; you shall hear no more of it.’ This, and another occasion of the same nature, were the only occasions in which he saw Beauharnais privately; he avoided the court, and did not seek preferment. He twice under that government refused a bishopric, and under the new government; giving me as a reason that it went against his conscience to inculcate what he did not believe, and to add power to those who gave them, as he would be expected to side with them. He is violently for the independence of Italy. Christianity he believes not, and gives (I think) a new argument why we should not be holden to believe it. Saul, who was contemporary, who beheld the miracles etc., did not believe till a miracle was operated upon him; we at this distance cannot believe with greater facility. He has published an eulogium of Caluro, Ingiustizia del Giudizio, etc., poems, etc. Has written several tragedies; Ina, made me weep like a child. He is warm in his affections, and has never recovered the death of one he loved – a young noble lady, of great accomplishments and beauty. His friendship for me was warm: it gratifies me more than any attentions, friendship, or any relation I had before, with my fellow-companions. I cannot express what I feel for him. When parting from him, I wept like a child in his arms. He maintains from principle, not from belief, all the hardships imposed upon him by his tonsure. He would have the world to see that his belief is not swayed by a wish to escape from the bonds of the clerical state. He is charitable, giving away great sums of money in charity; eats only once a day, and studies all day till the hour of the theatre; kind to all who are recommended to him; sacrificing whole days to show them what he has seen a thousand times; a great admirer of English women; has an excellent library, of which I had the use. A great friend of comic, good-natured mimicry. Has an idea of writing Ida, a novel containing a picture of the most promising movements of the Milan revolution, and I have promised to translate it. He has two brothers; his father lives yet; his eldest brother is Ambassador at Munich. The youngest is Cavalier Brême – been officer in Spain; extremely pleasant and affectionate with me. Brême was a great friend of Caluro’s, and to him Caluro dedicated one of his opuscules.
Vampyre' and Other Writings Page 27