CHAP. II. Character, Cuſtoms, Manners, &c.

THE Savoyards, ſays Buſching, from the nature of their country, are generally ſo poor, that a traveller ſeldom meets any upon the public road, who do not recommend themſelves to his benevolence; and a farmer, with a yoke of oxen, a couple of horſes, four cows, a few goats and ſheep, and a ſmall piece of ground, paſſes for a man of ſubſtance. The bread is generally of rye; with a mixture of wheat and barley, among the better ſort. Their drink is milk and wa⯑ter; their food chiefly conſiſts of cheeſe, butter, wall⯑nuts, vegetables, and what fleſh they can ſpare, of their own breeding; but the generality are rather under the neceſſity of diſpoſing, of part of their ſtock, to purchaſe the other neceſſaries of life. With this way of living the people are chearful, feed heartily, have a much better complexion than the Piedmonteſe, [4] live to a great age; and being, at the ſame time, ſo prolific, that the inhabitants, if at home, could not ſubſiſt upon the products of the country, they may well be excuſed in ſending their children to ſeek a livelihood, by ſhewing monkies, ſweeping chimnies, blacking ſhoes, or as they can. The number of ſuch Savoyards, at Paris, is computed to be above 18,000; of whom the boys are ſhoe-blacks. In the winter time they live very comfortably, forty or fifty in a room; and, in ſummer time, the ſtones at the threſhold of the houſes ſerve them for pillows. They are ſo honeſt, that they may be truſted to change gold. If once they attain to the ſetting up of a little ſhop, they are ſuch maſters of the thriving talent, that it is often the foundation of a very conſiderable fortune. The rich banker and financier, Croizat, whoſe daughter was married to the count D'Evereux, of a noble fa⯑mily in France, was formerly of this fraternity; yet, ſo prevalent is the love of their country in them, that when maſters, of any little ſtock, they generally re⯑turn home. Every year an old fellow goes up and down the village, and gets together the boys, to con⯑duct them out of the country, in ſome meaſure, like the rat-catcher at Hamel. It is not uncommon that ſome of the children, committed to him, are ſo ſmall as to be caried away in baſkets. He is alſo of further ſervice, returning with letters, needles, and ſuch trifles; and ſometimes money, from his countrymen [5] at Paris, Lyons, &c. to their parents, relations, and friends. This encourages the people at home to truſt him with freſh colonies; from whoſe emigration he alſo reaps ſome little advantage; at leaſt, while he is on his circuit in Savoy, he is every where welcome to bed and board.

The nobility, both in Savoy and Piedmont, labour under great oppreſſion; indeed the king's ordinances are, in ſome reſpect, advantageous to them, by having eſtabliſhed, in all fiefs, the perpetual right of primo⯑geniture. In allodial eſtates, no nobleman can make a feoffment of truſt beyond the fourth degree; but a commoner is diveſted of all ſuch power. He who takes poſſeſſion of the eſtate, by the right of primoge⯑niture, is obliged to give the younger children one fourth of the income. Whoever purchaſes an eſtate, with the title of Marquiſate, Baron, &c. is thereby en⯑nobled; and ſuch eſtates are to be had for ſix or eight thouſand livres. Every nobleman muſt prove from whence he derives his arms, elſe he is deprived of this right; or muſt be at the charge of purchaſing a new coat of arms. The title is inherent to the eſtate. Of all mines, diſcovered and worked, a certain ſhare belongs to the king. No perſon is to fell trees, not even in his own wood, without leave obtained from the intendant. No money is to be placed at in⯑tereſt, nor lent on mortgages, out of the country. [6] No penſion, or order of knighthood, except that of Malta, is to be accepted from any foreign prince. There is alſo a prohibition againſt travelling abroad, or entering into any foreign ſervice, without a written licence from the king. None are to be ſeen with fire⯑arms out of their fief; and a perſon not poſſeſſed of a fief, though an officer in the army, is not to keep any. Not to mention many other reſtrictions, the king has declared all fiefs to be his property; and whoever ſhould undertake to maintain the contrary, muſt make proof of it in the patent of inveſtiture.

The high court of juſtice, or the parliament, as we have already premiſed, ſits at Chambery. The king being, on account of Savoy, a member of the ancient kingdom of Arles; and a vaſſal of the empire has a ſeat, and vote, in the diet of the Germanic body.

In Savoy every one ſpeaks French; and moſt of the names of towns and villages are of that language; but, in cuſtoms and diſpoſitions, the inhabitants have more of the German in them. It is with pleaſure we ſee in them, what is called, the old Germanic honeſty. They are, one and all, Roman Catholics; but, with⯑out admitting the council of Trent. Their churches are no aſylums. Montiers, in Tarentaiſe, is an Arch⯑biſhopric; and Annecy, ond Jean de Maurienne are Biſhoprics.

CHAP. III. PRINCIPALITY OF PIEDMONT. Situation, Climate, &c.

PIEDMONT is a part of the ancient Lombardy; and, northward, borders on Savoy and Italy; weſtward on France; Southward on the Mediterra⯑nean, and republic of Genoa; and eaſtward on the duchies of Montſerat, and Milan. From South to North, it is about one hundred and fifty Engliſh miles; but much leſs from Weſt to Eaſt. It is called Pied⯑mont, in Latin Pedemontium, from its ſituation ad pede montium, or at the foot of the mountains, or Alps, which ſeparate France from Italy.

Some parts of it are very mountainous; but it is every where, and even among the hills, very unfruit⯑ful, That part of the country, which is level, is well watered by rivers and brooks. They have the good [8] ſenſe to make the beſt uſe of theſe, for the improve⯑ment of their meadows. From the Alps to the Ve⯑netian lagunes there is very little uncultivated land. A ridge of low hills, called La Collina, beginning not far from Turin, and continuing along the banks of the Po, for forty miles, is covered with houſes and vine⯑yards; and enjoys delightful and extenſive proſpects. The Val d' Aoſta is intereſting to a naturaliſt; for its copious quartz veins, with plenty of native gold; fine-grained lead ore, containing ſilver, &c. red anti⯑mony; green lead ore, &c. The hills produce plenty of wine; which, like all other Italian wines, is very luſcious, whilſt new, eſpecially the white. Here is alſo a tartiſh red wine, called vino briſco; and ſaid to be very wholeſome for fat people; the ſweet wine, or vino amabile, is, on the other hand, recommended as a ſtomachic. The neighbourhood of Turin is famous for its fine fruits, and many long walks of cheſnut and mulberry trees, productive both of pleaſure and profit. Marons, or large cheſnuts, are a favourite dainty, among the commonalty, which are thrown into an oven, and, when thoroughly hot, and cooled in red wine, are dried a ſecond time in the oven. Theſe are called biſcuits, and eaten cold. Truffles grow here in ſuch abundance, as to gain Piedmont the ap⯑pellation of the truffle country. Some are black, others white, and marbled with red; the larger they are, the dearer; ſometimes they are found of twelve [9] or fourteen pounds weight; and many country people earn, from ſixty to ſeventy dollars a year, by digging only for truffles. The fineſt part of the king's country is that from Turin to Coni; which indeed has few to equal it. The fertility of Piedmont occaſioned the old ſaying, ſi l'Italie etoit un mouton, le Piedmont en ſeroit le rognon; that is, if Italy were a ſheep, Pied⯑mont would be the kidney. The whole country, ſays Sharpe, is extremely fertile; and to ſuch a degree, that it may be truly ſaid there is not an acre of barren ground, throughout all the tract of Lombardy which we paſſed. The earth produces three crops at once; wine, ſilk and cotton. The mulberry-trees ſupport the vines; and the corn grows in the intervals between the trees. This is certainly an inſtance of extraor⯑dinary plenty; but, probably, either of theſe products would be more perfect in their kind, if the ſoil were appropriated to one or two of theſe only.

The chief river is the Po; which flows out of mount Viſo, and bathes the walls of the capital, uniting it⯑ſelf there with the Doria. The Var, anciently called Varus, riſes in the county of Nice; and, after water⯑ing it, empties itſelf into the Mediterranean.

There are mountains, near Turin, adds Lady Millar, abounding with petrefactions, cryſtalizations, and other natural curioſities. Muſhrooms, very large, [10] petrified, whoſe combs were not in the leaſt injured, are found in them; likewiſe ſea-ſhells, ſea-foſſils, &c. in great abundance, although they are full thirty leagues from the ſea. At about eight leagues from Turin, in the river Doria, the peaſants find very pure gold amongſt the ſands; which, when refined, is equal, in beauty and value, to that of ſequins; but they do not find enough in a day, to make it worth their while to apply themſelves entirely to this re⯑ſearch. However, I recollect, ſays Lady Millar, that we were met by a drove of mules, loaded with ſmall caſks, which they ſaid was the mineralé, containing the gold, and was, probably, ſand, impregnated with the ore.

CHAP. IV. Cities, Court, Palaces.

This chapel, that it may be adapted to the tragical relic preſerved there, is built entirely of a dark grey marble. The model was drawn by Guarini, and is ſaid to have coſt four millions and a half of Piedmon⯑teſe livres. The ſheet, (as the clergy here pretend) wherein Chriſt was wrapped after his crucifixion, has, on both ſides of it, imprinted the bloody figure of a man. The ſuppoſed Sudary of Chriſt is alſo ſhewn at Mentz, Liſbon, and in about twelve other Romiſh churches. To this objection the common anſwer is, that many pieces of linen were uſed for wrapping round a corpſe; but this evaſion holds good only as to the ſmaller bandages, uſed for the arms, feet, and head; and not with reſpect to thoſe large involucra, on which the whole human figure is repreſented. As to the great veneration at preſent paid to it, let it ſuffice to ſay that Philip the Vth. of Spain, even when he mar⯑ried the Princeſs of Savoy, could not obtain a copy of that at Turin, till after repeated ſolicitations, and then with the greateſt difficulty. The performance was alſo attended with a great number of ſuperſtitious ce⯑remonies. [13] The painter, whilſt at work, was obliged to be continually on his knees, and eight biſhops ſaid maſſes, at eight different altars.

The moſt honourable diſtinction, at the court of Turin, is the order of the Annonciada; and next to that are the four following poſts, called the four maitre⯑chargen; the great chamberlain, the ſteward of the houſhold, the maſter of the horſe, and the great huntſ⯑man. Theſe four officers precede all others, and take place according to ſeniority.

The order of the Annonciada was inſtituted in the year 1362. The knights wear a collar, about three fingers broad, of white and red roſes, of enamelled gold. Theſe letters F. E. R. T. are intermixt with love-knots; which has given ſurmiſe, to ſome French writers, that this order was inſtituted only in honour of a favourite female. In like manner the order of the golden fleece has been aſperſed, as having but a mean origin. The meaning of the four letters is ſtill a myſtery; ſome interpret them, Fortitudo Ejus Rho⯑dium Tenuit, "his courage preſerved Rhodes," from a conjecture they were inſerted in the Savoy arms, by one of their dukes, on his relieving that iſland. Others have imagined theſe letters were part of the Savoy arms, long before that time. How the vowels A. E. I. O. U. adopted by Frederic the Third, for the houſe [14] of Auſtria have puzzled the learned, is ſufficiently known; and no leſs have they been perplexed about the old device of the Margrave of Saluzzo, viz. the letters N. O. C. H. which ſome one at laſt jocularly interpreted thus, Non Omnes Capiunt Hoc, i, e. all men do not underſtand this.

Every knight of the Annonciada muſt previouſly have been of the order of St. Maurice, inſtituted in 1434. The knights of St. Maurice muſt marry but once; and then it muſt not be to a widow. The king is grand maſter of the order of the Annonciada; the king's ſon, and the firſt prince of the blood, are knights by birth; and the number of the others is not to exceed fifteen.

Contiguous to the royal palace are ſeveral other ſpacious buildings; among others the opera-houſe is accounted a maſter piece of its kind; the record-office, with the new royal printing-houſe, with twelve preſſes, and the arſenal, which is quite new, and a well con⯑trived ſtructure. This building, beſides the armories uſually found in ſuch places, contains a cabinet of mi⯑nerals, a good chemical laboratory, a library of books, in mineralogy and metallurgy, and furnaces for caſt⯑ing cannon; here alſo are mathematical, mechanical, and other maſters, for the inſtruction of engineers, miners, &c.

[15]The fortifications of Turin are regular, and kept in excellent repair. The citadel is a regular pentagon, conſiſting of ſtrong baſtions; and is reputed one of the ſtrongeſt in Europe. The glacis is planted with trees, forming three avenues; that in the middle very wide for carriages, and one on each ſide for walking; they extend to the Suza gate, between the foſſé and the city.

The univerſity, which was founded in 1405, and re-eſtabliſhed on a better footing by Victor Amadoeus II. is a large quadrangle, and one of the firſt buildings in the city. In the inner court is a double row of piazzas, over each other; and along them ſeveral an⯑cient monuments, placed on the walls. The univerſity library, beſides twenty thouſand printed volumes, has a very valuable collection of ancient manuſcripts, hi⯑therto unknown, and of great uſe, both in civil and eccleſiaſtical hiſtory. Pyrrhus Ligorius's collection of deſigns of Greek and Roman antiquities, in thirty volumes, for which 8,000 ducats were given, is an in⯑valuable ornament to this collection. The Jeſuits have a college and a church, adorned with moſt cu⯑rious freſco painting, and marble ſculpture. There are five hoſpitals for the ſick, maimed, and poor; that of St. John, the largeſt and fineſt, is, in reality, a magnificent ſtructure. The Charité, or poor-houſe, is a moſt noble foundation. The receptacle for luna⯑tics [16] is likewiſe worthy of obſervation. The ſtreets are kept clean by a rivulet, brought from the river Doria into the city. It alſo carries off all the ſoil and filth from the kennels, and is very ſerviceable in caſe of fire. The ſluices are laid open every night.

This charming town, ſays Mrs. Piozzi, is the ſalon of Italy; but it is a fine proportioned, and well orna⯑mented ſalon, happily conſtructed to call in freſh air, at the end of every ſtreet. The arches formed to de⯑fend paſſengers from the rain and ſun, which here might have even ſerious effects, from their violence, deſerve much praiſe; while their architecture, uniting our ideas of beauty and comfort, form a traveller's taſte; and teach him to admire that perfection, of which a miniature may certainly be found at Turin.

The king's palace is in a ſimple, and noble ſtile of architecture. The apartments are elegantly fitted up, and furniſhed; no expence has been ſpared; a pro⯑fuſion of glaſſes, gilding, rich ſilks and velvets over the walls. The floors are beautifully inlaid with woods of different ſhades; and kept, as are the whole of the apartments and furniture, delicately clean. The frames of the looking glaſſes, and of the ſconces, are all wrought plate, as well as the arms that hold the candles, and the ſhapes of the pier-glaſſes; large maſ⯑ſive tables of ſilver ſtand under each glaſs, all wrought [17] in bas reliefs; and the workmanſhip, for the moſt part, finely executed. The luſtres that hang from the ciel⯑ing are of rock cryſtal. The curtains to the doors have a fine effect; for when all the doors, which lead through the magnificent ſuit of rooms, are thrown open, theſe curtains are tied back, and their folds form beautiful arcades. The doors open in the middle, and, folding inward, are received into grooves made in the thickneſs of the wall; the pannels are carved and gilt; and, when the apartment is diſplayed, no door is to be ſeen; but in paſſing through the door-caſe, the ornaments of the doors, which cover the ſides of the wall, are very ſtriking. Theſe doors, all an⯑ſwering each other, form a perſpective which has a moſt beautiful effect. As the ſuite of rooms form a rectangle, there is a view, from the ſame point, of two extenſive viſtas; which, being terminated by looking-glaſſes, ſeems to have no end. Silk is the furniture of the ſummer; that of the winter apartment is of crim⯑ſon velvet. As the walls are extremely thick, the windows have a noble air from the inſide; the wall ſloping off from them, and the tops arched in cove⯑faſhion, are incruſted with looking-glaſſes ſet in gilt foliage; which, by their reflections, produce a brilliant effect. Sculpture and gilding abound in every room; all the mouldings, architraves, and every (the ſmalleſt) part of wainſcoting, is highly ornamented. But what is wonderfully ſhocking, in the midſt of all this profu⯑ſion [18] of finery, is, that the panes of the windows are ſet in lead, in the ſame manner with the caſements of our Engliſh cottages. The palace contains fifty-three chambers; of which forty-eight are completely fur⯑niſhed. The cielings are painted by Daniele di Sanc⯑terre and others. In the gallery is a collection of pictures, among which are many good ones, chiefly by Flemiſh maſters; they are all hung upon black pannels; great part of theſe were purchaſed from Prince Eu⯑gene's cabinet, by the late King. The dropſical wo⯑man, with her phyſician, is, by connoiſſeurs, valued at £. 10,000; it is finiſhed with the moſt exquiſite Dutch nicety, by Gerard Dowe. This picture, ſays Groſley, is reckoned his maſter-piece, both for deſign and colouring. It appears on the ſide like a cupboard; and is ſhut in by two doors, on which are painted, by Gerard Dowe, a ewer and a napkin. When theſe doors are opened, the picture appears with more eclat, from having been concealed. It repreſents the inſide of a room; the clair obſcure has a beautiful effect; the room is lighted by an ox-eye over the window, and by the light proceeding from the fire in a chimney; which is admirably thrown on the furniture and other ob⯑jects. The principal figure appears to be a phyſician, who is ſtanding on the fore-ground, and holds up a phial to the light, which he looks at very attentively; he is dreſſed in a prodigious fine lilac-coloured ſattin night-gown; the dropſical woman is very fine alſo, in [19] white ſattin; her daughter's dreſs is not neglected; ſhe is on her knees near her mother, and holds one of her hands in hers. There is great tenderneſs ex⯑preſſed in the countenance of the daughter, and her attitude is eaſy and natural; the mother appears to be in the laſt ſtage of illneſs. A waiting-maid, who is ad⯑miniſtering a potion to the ſick lady, has a ſtupid in⯑difference in her manners, that forms a good contraſt to the filial piety, and tender attention of the daughter. This picture may be ſaid to be too highly finiſhed; the ſattin, lace, embroidery, are done too well; which cauſes a hardneſs of outline, in many places, by an extraordinary attention to the finiſhing of ſeveral pieces of furniture in the room.

In a cabinet, highly ornamented with glaſs, and beautiful gilt foliage, are a vaſt number of miniatures; all portraits. Theſe pictures are diſperſed in ſuch a manner, among the glaſs and foliage, as to have a ſin⯑gular and very pretty effect. They are incomparably well executed on ivory; none hatched, all dotted, and bear the teſt of the higheſt magnifying glaſs. They are painted by one man, named Carameli, a monk; his own picture among them. Inſtead of uſing a ca⯑mel's-hair pencil, which is univerſal in miniature paint⯑ing, this man dotted all his pictures, with the feathers plucked from woodcocks' wings; and, inſtead of finiſh⯑ing as he went on, he began them nearly at the ſame [20] time, and worked at each, every day, till they were all completed. It ſeems no hair-pencils can be brought to the point that theſe pencils have naturally. Carmeli took thirty years to finiſh them, and had never learnt.

Amongſt many remarkable portraits, that of Sir Thomas More is much admired. There are alſo two original portraits; one of Petrarch, the other of his beloved Laura, by Brongino, a famous painter of that day. Her ſort of beauty, ſays Lady Millar, would never have captivated me, had I been Petrarch. Her hair is red, her eyebrows extremely narrow and exact, forming a flat arch; her eyes ſmall, her noſe a little hooked, and riſing too high in the middle; her mouth not very ſmall, and lips like two ſcarlet threads; a very faint colour in her cheeks, the contour in the face more ſquare than oval; her countenance more de⯑mure than engaging. As for Petrarch, he is exceed⯑ingly ugly indeed; but he has a very ſenſible black and yellow face. It is remarkable that, in this collection of pictures, there is no Raphael, except ſome defaced ſketches; but one Titian, and not one of Salvator Roſa, nor Corregio.

The ſtatues and buſts are part of the wreck of the Gonzagua collection; brought from Mantua, on the pillage of that city. The celebrated Iſiac table is in the chamber of the archives; this is one of the moſt [21] celebrated antiques in all Italy. This ſlab, or table, is of copper; it is covered all over with hieroglyphics. The principal figure is an Iſis, ſitting; ſhe has a kind of hawk on her head, and the horns of a bull. Many and various are the conjectures, formed by the learned, in regard to the meaning of the figures upon the table. Some have imagined they could prove it to be a com⯑paſs; others, a perpetual calendar; and, not a few, have pretended to find principles of philoſophy and and politics in it; while ſome, ſtill more ingenious, have pretended that it contains a complete body of theology. I am not impertinent enough to pretend I diſcovered any thing more than a ſtrange chaos of men, women, ugly birds, and other animals, frightfully delineated, by ſtrait lines, ſometimes ſpringing all from a point, like rays, then ſuddenly turning into angular figures, formed by ſilver, incruſted into copper. It is evident much ſilver has been taken out of this table, as the grooves remain. Notwithſtanding the ſeeming confuſion of the repreſentations, the ſilver lines are very neat, and extremely well inſerted into the copper.

The archives are arranged with ſuch method, that, although they are extremely voluminous, the King can, at a moment, turn to the population, extent, and pro⯑ductions, of the ſmalleſt ſubdiviſion of his hereditary dominions; or of thoſe acquired by him, at the con⯑cluſion of the war in 1744, commonly called Le païs [22] conquis; their preſent and paſt revenue, at, or for any given period, within the two laſt centuries, by the day, week, or year; their capability of bearing a further increaſe of taxes, in caſes of neceſſity; their value and caſual increaſe, or decreaſe, in different branches of manufactures, as well as the number of militia, and of recruits, which each can furniſh upon any emergency.

The King's theatre adjoins to the royal palace, and is reckoned one of the fineſt in Europe. It is ſtrik⯑ingly magnificent. The form is that of an egg cut acroſs. There are ſix rows of boxes; narrow indeed in front, but very convenient within; and holds eight perſons with eaſe. The Italians play at cards, receive viſits, and take all ſorts of refreſhment in their boxes; they reſemble little rooms, rather than boxes at a the⯑atre. There are no benches; but, what is more con⯑venient, chairs, which are moved about at pleaſure. The king's box is in the ſecond row, fronting the ſtage; it is thirty feet wide, Paris meaſure; and the back part, covered with looking-glaſs, reflects the ſtage in ſuch a manner, that thoſe who happen to have their backs turned to the actors, either converſing or at play, may ſee the performance in the glaſſes. Theſe glaſſes form a partition, which can be moved when⯑ever they chuſe to enlarge the box; there being room behind. The very great breadth of the ſtage pro⯑duces [23] a moſt noble effect. The Proſcenium meaſures forty-five Paris feet, the depth of the ſtage one hun⯑dred and five; beyond which they can add a paved court of twenty-four feet. A gentle riſing is contrived at the ſides; by which may be introduced triumphal cars, for great proceſſions, horſes, &c. They can alſo throw a draw-bridge acroſs, when the ſcene re⯑quires it; and they have a contrivance for letting in water, ſo as to preſent a jet d'eau of thirty feet high. Sixty horſes at a time have been brought upon the ſtage, and manoeuvred, with eaſe, in repreſentations of battles; the orcheſtra is ſo curiouſly conſtructed, as by having a place left underneath, which is concave and ſemicircular, to augment the ſound of the inſtruments very conſiderably. The machinery and decorations are magnificent. The King is at the principal ex⯑pence of the opera; they who have boxes paying only two or three guineas for the ſeaſon, as a kind of fee; money being only taken at the door for ſitting in the pit.

The fineſt buildings in this city, ſays Keyſler, are Count Paeſanes' hotel, which coſt fifty thouſand pounds; and the Carignan palace, built by Guarini. This architect alſo deſigned the new building, and alterations, at La Veniere; beſides many others. Theſe expenſive improvements are not a little pro⯑moted by an ordinance, which empowers every one, [24] intending to re-build, or enlarge his houſe, to oblige his next neighbour, whoſe houſe is of leſs value than it is propoſed the new one ſhall be, to diſpoſe of the whole, or part of the ground plot to him, at a reaſon⯑able rate. That part of the palace of the Prince of Piedmont, which is modern, is fronted in the moſt or⯑namental manner, by Philip Juvara; and is in the beſt ſtile of architecture of any building in Turin. The ſtaircaſe is admired here to ſuch a degree, that they aſſert it to be the firſt in the world; it is double, and unites at top; at which is the entrance into the grand ſaloon. The apartments are well furniſhed, and would appear much more grand and conſiderable, were it not for the ſtaircaſe; the noble appearance of which indicates a more magnificent and extenſive ſuit of rooms.

As to the eccleſiaſtical buildings in this city, ſays Keyſler, they are much inferior to the others, for they are very ancient; whereas the fineſt edifices at Turin were built in the two laſt reigns. The city of Aſti, in the road to Genoa, exceeded Turin formerly, and the churches there are in the Gothic taſte.

Among the laudable foundations at Turin, the hoſ⯑pital de la Charité merits being noticed; this building takes up great part of the Rue de Po; and has very large revenues ariſing from rents, and the annual [25] ſubſcriptions of the citizens. The king every year gives to this hoſpital three hundred ſacks of corn; three of which are computed to make a ſufficient quan⯑tity of bread to ſerve one perſon a whole year. In this houſe are generally two thouſand, and often three thouſand, poor people, picked out of the ſtreets, and employed in ſeveral ſorts of manufactures. Here the young and old, of both ſexes, are furniſhed with a re⯑medy againſt idleneſs; and are provided with meat, drink, and cloathing; and attendance, when ſick, or grown decrepid with age. Forty ſoldiers in blue, with red bandeliers, are daily diſperſed about the ſtreets, to take up all beggars and vagrants; if they be fo⯑reigners, after undergoing a ſhort impriſonment, they are driven out of the city; and, for a ſecond offence, beſides undergoing a long impriſonment, they are whipped, and baniſhed out of the country; but the natives are immediately brought away to the hoſpital. The main building conſiſts of two quadrangles, with galleries round them; one for the men, and the other for the women. They dine ſeparately, in their reſpec⯑tive halls, to the number of ſome hundreds at a time, in each apartment. The two ſexes have alſo their particular time for hearing maſs, and are ſeparated from the reſt of the congregation by an iron grate.

Piedmont will preſerve the memory of King Victor, as France preſerves that of Louis XIV. Turin every [26] where diſplaying that Prince's magnificence. Near half this city was built by him, on an uniform plan; the better part of the fortifications, the gates, the hoſ⯑pital, the univerſity, the country college, ſeveral royal ſeats in the neighbourhood, are works of his reign; laſtly, for his burial-place, he has erected a ſplendid church, where a numerous community of ſecular prieſts officiate. This church ſtands on the top of a high mountain, Eaſt of Turin, and was built in purſuance of a vow made by him, when Turin was beſieged by the Duke of Orleans, in 1706; that he would, if victorious, erect a church on that ſpot, from which, with Prince Eugene, he had obſerved the diſtribution of the operations of the enemy's troops before the town.

It is called the Superga; the aſcent to it is ſo ex⯑tremely rapid and difficult, even now, that it ſeems to have been almoſt impoſſible for human art and addreſs, to have brought together the materials here employed. The front preſents a fine portico, above which, to a very great height, riſes a dome, crowned by a cupola; on each ſide is a ſteeple, finiſhed up to a point. The entrance to the church is noble, and the inſide very ſtriking; it is quite round, and richly ornamented with pillars of the Corinthian order, of grey marble, four feet and a half each in diameter. Here is a great profuſion of fine marble, the walls [27] being incruſted with it. Piedmont affords a prodi⯑gious variety; one ſort, peculiar to this country, is re⯑markably beautiful, being veined in ſhades of brown and yellow, like what is commonly called in England, Egyptian pebble. From the cupola, a proſpect of an amazing extent opens itſelf on all ſides. In a clear day Milan appears in view; the rivers Po, Doria, Iſturia, meandering along, form iſlands without num⯑ber. The variety of tints this proſpect preſents is wonderful; the richeſt green paſturage in the vallies, hills cloathed with vines, mountains covered with ſnow, together with the city of Turin and all its en⯑virons. The preſent King ſaid, in viewing Turin, from this height,—"It is well ſtrangers do not ſee Turin, for the firſt time, from the top of Superga, or they would have but a mean opinion of my town." It is wonderful how very inconſiderable Turin ap⯑pears, though it cannot be above two Engliſh miles diſtant, in a ſtra it line. The late King would not permit the road to be made commodious up to the Superga, in his reign. Probably his reaſon might have been, to demonſtrate to thoſe who aſcend it, the trouble and expence attendant upon the convey⯑ance of materials for the building. At preſent, it is not too good, nor is it as well as it might be, although much has been done. The ſoil is a ſtiff clay, which makes the aſcending of the mountain very fatiguing and troubleſome.

[28]The palace moſt frequented by the royal family is La Venerie; the court generally continuing there from Spring to December. It is about a league from Turin. The road that leads to it is well paved, and the greateſt part of it planted with trees on each ſide; it is not always in a direct line, but runs a little winding between fine meadows, fields, and vineyards. At a quarter of a league diſtance from the city, is the campagne de notre Dame; when, in 1706, the French trenches, now marked by ſtones between the fields, were forced. This palace is much admired by the Turineſe, and the French, for its architecture, gardens, &c. Before the King's palace is a ſtreet of houſes, built of ſtone, and inhabited by private per⯑ſons. The palace is not yet completed. In two chambers, adjoining to the King's apartment, are the pictures of thirty of his Majeſty's anceſtors, with Latin inſcriptions, ſignifying their moſt famous at⯑chievements. Beyond theſe is the chamber of pic⯑tures, of the Emperors of Germany, another of the Kings of France, and another of the Kings of Eng⯑land, from the Saxon line, down to Queen Anne. The portrait of Elizabeth appears to be greatly flat⯑tered; ſhe appears to be about eighteen years of age, with fine large black eyes and black hair, and that beau⯑tiful complexion, the French call brune clair. Theſe portraits are all as big as life. In another apartment are a great many equeſtrian portraits, chiefly women. [29] Theſe Amazons are dreſſed in the Spaniſh faſhion, and mounted on prancing horſes. Each lady is drawn properly dreſſed for the chace; and, as all their hats and riding-dreſſes are much alike, they are diſ⯑tinguiſhed by ſilk bridles to their horſes, of different colours: this was really an order of the late King, that he might be able to diſtinguiſh them from one another at a little diſtance. Among others is the picture of the famous Counteſs of Verue. This lady was, for a long time, the reigning favourite at the court of Turin, with the late Monarch; from which place ſhe had the addreſs to eſcape, and carried with her jewels and other valuables to a great amount. Her eſcape was planned with infinite addreſs, to avoid detection. The reaſon aſſigned was, an apprehenſion of a change in the King's affections, in which caſe ſhe would have been immured in a nunnery for life. Keyſler mentions having viſited her afterwards in Paris, where ſhe lived in great ſplendor and mag⯑nificence. It ſeems, from one or two anecdotes, re⯑lated by the above author, in which our countrymen were concerned, this lady had given no ſmall reaſon to excite the jealouſy of the King: an Engliſh noble⯑man having been near paſſing the night under the Counteſs's bed. It ſeems he had been diſturbed in in his viſits by the unexpected arrival of the King; and there was no other place ſo proper for conceal⯑ment. He was diſcovered; and this nobleman's [30] ſituation, in a country where rivalry is no light of⯑fence, was ſomething more than diſagreeable; but his Majeſty's generoſity ſcorned to reſent itſelf on any man, at a diſadvantage. Another time, this ſame nobleman found the King knew how to get rid of ſuch gueſts as came without invitation; for the King intending another unexpected viſit to the Counteſs, uſed ſuch precautions, that before ſhe knew any thing of his coming, he was in her chamber, where he found my Lord ſitting with her at table. His reſentment, however, went no further, than taking a light in each hand, and making a ſign to him, who readily complied, fearing worſe conſequences; he lighted him down ſtairs; there the King very coolly ſaid to him, "that he might now boaſt of having been lighted down ſtairs by the Duke of Savoy; but that he ad⯑viſed him, as a friend, never to ſhew his face there again." Of this advice, ſays Keyſler, he was ſo very obſervant, that he ſet out the next day to finiſh his travels. Another of our young hopeful nobility, being alſo enamoured with the Counteſs, indulged his fancy ſo far, as to look at her through a ſpying-glaſs, during the whole time of an opera. As little agree⯑able as this muſt be to the King, his manner of ſending away this Lors Anglois, cannot be charged with ſeverity. The next day two men were appointed to follow our young nobleman wherever he went, whoſe ſole buſineſs it was to be looking at him with [31] ſpying glaſſes. It was not till after two days, that he took notice of theſe new attendants; and, being at no loſs to account for the meaning of their behaviour, he thought it adviſeable to leave Turin immediately, and look out for adventures elſewhere. When his Majeſty was informed of the Counteſs's elopement, he was heard to ſay, that he never was engaged with any woman who did not deceive him, and avoided the ſex ever after: a ſpeech which ſeems to be a little ſevere; as it appears, ſays Keyſler, from un⯑queſtionable authority, that when the allies intended to deprive the Duke of Savoy of the kingdom of Sicily, he was adviſed of it by the Counteſs, from Paris, ſooner than they could have wiſhed.

But to return to La Venerie; the Orangerie is much eſteemed for its architecture; it is 582 feet long, 51 broad, and 40 high; the front is ornamented with pillars of the Ionic order. The ſtables alſo are very beautiful, and ſeem to be to the full as large as the Orangerie; they contain two hundred horſes. The gardens were laid out by a Frenchman; one would think, ſays Lady Millar, this good man had taken his idea of planting gardens from ſome of Euclid's prob⯑lems. They are of great extent; the walks all ſtrait, and cutting each other at right angles, leaving ſquare plantations, and quarters of beech and beech-wood, frequently interſected by narrow alleys, ſo that they [32] form triangular figures, wounding the eye by their uniformity. As all theſe right lines produce what is called ſtars, of one kind or other; and in the cop⯑pices are great plenty of pheaſants, hares, and chev⯑reuils, where his Majeſty amuſes himſelf with la chaſſe a fuſil. Taking part in the centre of the ſtar, where many of theſe angles meet, he is ſecure of much ſport; the piqueurs enter the quarters and drive out the game; who croſſing the alley, ſeek the oppoſite problem; mean-time the King lets fly at them, and knocks them down at pleaſure.

What pleaſed me moſt at La Venerie, ſays Keyſler, is the royal chapel, deſigned by Filippo. The cupola, is of a graceful height; within this chapel are ſtatues of St. Ambroſe, St. Chryſoſtom, St. Auguſtin, and St. Jerom, ſtanding on red, green, and yellow marble pedeſtals. The ſtatues are of white marble, in the gigantic taſte, and were brought here from Rome. The high altar is a glorious fight; and there is ſcarce any kind of marble not to be ſeen in this chapel, either in the pillars or altars.

Rivoli is another royal palace, about three leagues from Turin, towards Suſa. The whole road runs in a direct line, through fields, meadows, and vineyards; it was planted ſince the ſiege of Turin, in the year 1712; the French, among other devaſtations, having [33] rooted up every tree throughout the country. This walk yields a very beautiful proſpect; and at one end, ſtands the palace of Rivoli, on an eminence; and at the other, Turin; and about two leagues be⯑yond that, in a ſtrait line, the ſtately church of Su⯑perga. The air is continually clear and healthy, and creates a ſharp appetite; but, on account of its ſubtilty and keenneſs, is not ſo agreeable to ſleep in.

The palace of Valentin was formerly the ſcene of moſt of the court diverſions and entertainments; it lies juſt without the walls of Turin. This palace is ſo called, as may be ſeen in the memoirs of the Count de Grammont, from the title given to thoſe gentlemen, who, on St. Valentine's day, wait upon the ladies; it being a general cuſtom all over Italy, for ſingle women to chooſe ſome one, among their male friends and acquaintances, on that day, who is to gallant them wherever they go; and who, to diſcharge his office with honour, muſt preſent them with noſegays, and other bagatelles. This attendance, which expires at the year's end, is not liable to any exception; and is often terminated by marriage. The parents, in the mean-time, are very watchful over their daughters' behaviour; and things are generally conducted with ſo much decorum and honour, that even the monks themſelves make no ſcruple to take upon them the office of a Valentine; and, poſſibly it is nobody's [34] intereſt ſo much as theirs to recommend the inno⯑cence of theſe intercourſe between the ſexes. But, as their Valentine gallantries are entirely left off at court, ſo the palace at Valentin is alſo neglected.

About a ſmall league from Turin, by the ſide of the road, grows a very large elm-tree; beneath the ſhadow of whoſe ſpreading branches, the late King, when Duke of Savoy, held a council of war with Prince Eugene, the Prince of Anhalt, and the Mar⯑quis de Prie, a Piedmonteſe General, on the 5th September 1706, in which they determined upon the manner and attack of the French lines: this event took place on the 7th of the ſame month; in which famous action the French army was entirely routed, Marſhal Marſin killed, and the ſiege of Turin raiſed.

The marſhal died two hours after the battle, often repeating theſe words, Tout eſt perdu mais Je n'en ſuis pas la cauſe. "All is loſt, but not owing to me." Of fifteen thouſand priſoners, moſt of them died with hunger and hardſhips. This ſiege laſted four months and a half; and the breach on the ſide of the citadel was ſo wide, that a whole battalion in front might have marched into it; the only reſource left the beſieged was, to keep a large fire burning continually in the breach. All utenſils, and furniture made of wood, were uſed for this purpoſe; and, in ſeveral parts of [35] the city, the roofs of the houſes were pulled down for the ſake of the wood for fuel; and, by theſe means, the breach was defended till the town was relieved. The King of Sardinia, during that ſiege, was at his laſt gaſp; and, after the victory, was reported, in the firſt tranſports of joy, to have ſaid, "He was very near being obliged to dance attendance in the Emperor's anti-chamber.

Near the capuchin monaſtery, on the mountain, a fine villa, called La vìgne de Madame Royale, ſtands upon an eminence. Bernini, the famous architect and ſculptor, uſed to reckon this building the beſt in, or near, Turin. During the minority, under the regent Chriſtina, both the houſe and garden were often the ſcenes of riot and debauchery. On this account, in the King's advanced age, when he was as it were inflamed with an eternal zeal for religion, the place became ſo odious to him, that, upon the death of Ma⯑dame Royale, he beſtowed it upon an hoſpital. The directors, in hopes to make a great deal of money by the ſale of the materials, began to pull it down; but the profits falling ſhort of their expectations, a ſtop was put to the demolition of it; ſo that now the houſe makes a very deſolate appearance.

In the environs of this city, the firſt ſpot viſited by every ſtranger is the airing-place, or corſo, called the [36] Valentin; this is an avenue, formed by four rows of loſty trees, conducting to the palace, which is at the end, and ſituated at the borders of the Po. There are alſo other avenues; one of which leads to the church, called the Servites. The royal family, and almoſt every body at Turin, who are not bed-rid, lying-in, or dying, make their appearance in theſe avenues every day, from the hours of five or ſix until ſeven; when they change their ground to another avenue, at ſome diſtance from theſe, and very near the citadel. This they leave at eight, for the theatre, or ſome pri⯑vate aſſembly. Thoſe who cannot afford to keep equipages are here on foot; and, let the weather be fine or rainy, the coaches never fail to come. The royal family make a noble appearance, particularly the coach of the Ducheſs of Savoy, which is very mag⯑nificent; ſhe drives with eight horſes, and a conſider⯑able cortége, conſiſting of her ladies, pages, &c. in other carriages; all conducted with the utmoſt dignity and tranquility. The young princes frequently alight and walk; and the princeſſes ſometimes amuſe themſelves with walking in the gardens of the palace of Valentin. The coaches, in general, are very ſplendid, and make a brilliant appearance; the ladies, likewiſe, are decked out for this daily parade in all their finery.

The ſetting out of the cavalcade for the royal chace, from the palace of Stupenige, another of the King's [37] hunting ſeats, about ſix miles from Turin, is a fine ſight. The chaiſes of the court precede all others, agreeable to eſtabliſhed etiquette. The Ducheſs of Savoy goes firſt, the elder princeſſes next, and ſo on; then come the ambaſſadors, foreign miniſters, &c. The livery of the hunt is ſcarlet, richly laced with ſilver. Whoever is well-born, (a gentleman inde⯑pendant of trade, and ſome of the profeſſions) what is called here, and in all theſe countries, nobleſſe, is permitted to be of the hunt; and wearing the livery may breakfaſt with the king at Stupenige. This fa⯑vour extends alſo to ſtrangers, properly introduced at court. There are very fine ridings cut through the foreſt, adjacent to the palace, and it is plen⯑tifully ſtocked with game. The great number of huntſmen, with the gay appearance of the whole ca⯑valcade, upon a fine day, has, in appearance, the ad⯑vantage of any other chace. The gentlemen are on horſeback, and the ladies of the court all in poſtchaiſes, with two wheels, conveyed by poſt-horſes; and there are relays, in different parts of the foreſt, for a change. The chacers belong to the court, and are all alike, rather plain than ornamented; but neatly made, and as fit for the purpoſe of hunting as any carriages can be. The ſound of the French-horns, repeated by the echos, with the cry of the hounds, and the ſhouts of the men, contribute not a little to animate this ſcene. Upon the concluſion of the hunt, all the chaiſes are [38] drawn up in form of an amphitheatre; the gentlemen of the court and hunt then diſmount, and converſe with the ladies; while the ſtag is embowelled, and the entrails diſtributed to the dogs. The ducheſs then generally ſends a foot of the ſtag, with ſome gracious compliment, to any ſtranger at the hunt, whom ſhe means to honour; as was done to Lady Millar, from whom we extracted this narration of the royal chace.

No royal family in Europe are more rigid obſervers of the laws of etiquette, than that of Sardinia; all their movements are uniform and invariable. The hour of riſing, of going to maſs, of taking the air; every thing is regulated like clock-work. The King gives audiences from ſix to eleven, every morning; goes to maſs about twenty minutes before twelve; dines at half after twelve; takes an afternoon's airing; and ſups ſo exactly at ten, that he leaves the opera, ſome⯑times, a few minutes before it is finiſhed, if it exceeds ever ſo little the hour of ten.

The King's table is plentiful, but plain; every ar⯑ticle is furniſhed by purveyors, at a moderate rate. What remains from his table is ſerved to the Lords and Ladies of the bedchamber; and, from them, down to the equeries, pages, &c.

[39]Employments, at the court of Turin, are eſteemed as giving conſideration and precedence, rather than for their pecuniary value; no appointment here is ſuf⯑ficient to ſupport the rank with any tolerable degree of decency.

CHAP. V. People, Character, Cuſtoms, Manners, Police, &c.

THE women are extremely beautiful and fair in this country; though, indeed, the ladies of Mi⯑lan and Venice almoſt vie with them, in complexion and features. They have the whiteſt ſkin, ſays Lady Millar, of any women I ever ſaw. They never wear rouge, which is ſomething more extraordinary. They dreſs well, and are ſingulary genteel in their undreſſes. If they are gallant, they conduct themſelves with the utmoſt decency; and inconſtancy is looked upon as the greateſt of crimes. Friendſhips of twenty and thirty years are not uncommon; at the ſame time it is not to be ſuppoſed there are no coquettes; but the [40] court ſets ſo virtuous an example, that the utmoſt pre⯑caution and circumſpection is neceſſary to thoſe who have any thing to conceal.

The Piedmonteſe, ſays Buſching, are accounted lively, artful, and witty; the inhabitants of the moun⯑tains of Aoſta excepted, who are further diſtinguiſhed by large wens; as are even their dogs, and other ani⯑mals. There ſeems to be a great contraſt in character between the two provinces of Savoy and Piedmont; it being a common obſervation, that among ten Pied⯑monteſe, there may poſſibly be one honeſt man; but that one knave is hardly to be found among ten Sa⯑voyards. This, however, is certain, ſays Keyſler, that the Piedmonteſe, in general, are very acute and cun⯑ning; and it were to be wiſhed they always made a good uſe of their talents; but their ſchemes are gene⯑rally ſo well laid, and attended with ſo much contri⯑vance and invention, that one cannot but admire their fineſſe. In the year 1695 a Piedmonteſe, who ſtiled himſelf Count Curaffa, came to Vienna, and privately waited on the prime miniſter, pretending he was ſent by the Duke of Savoy, on a very important affair, which they two were to negociate, without the privity of the French court. At the ſame time he produced his credentials, in which the Duke's ſeal and ſignature were exactly imitated. He met with a favourable re⯑ception; and, without affecting any privacy, took upon [41] him the title of Envoy Extraordinary from the court of Savoy. At a private concert, the captain of the guard denying him admittance, he had the aſſurance to demand ſatisfaction, in his maſter's name, and the captain was obliged to aſk his pardon. His firſt care was to ingratiate himſelf with the Jeſuits, who bore great ſway at court; and, to this end, he went to viſit their church; which, at that time remaining un⯑finiſhed, as they pretended, from the low ſtate of their finances; he aſked them how much money would complete it. An eſtimate to the amount of 2000 louis⯑d'ors being laid before him, Caraffa aſſured them of his conſtant attachment to their order; and that they might immediately proceed in building their church. In conſequence of his promiſe he ſent that very day 2000 louis-d'ors, at which ſum the charge had been computed. He was ſenſible that this was a part he could not act long, without being detected; and, that this generoſity might not be at his own at his own ex⯑pence, he invited a great number of ladies of rank to a ſupper and ball. Every one of his gueſts promiſed to be there; but he complained to them of the ill re⯑turns made to his civilities, adding that he had often been diſappointed; as the ladies, on thoſe occaſions, made no ſcruple of breaking their words; and, in a jocular way, inſiſted on a pledge, from every lady, for her appearance on the day appointed. One gave him a ring, another a pearl necklace, a third a pair of ear⯑rings, [42] a fourth a gold watch; and ſeveral ſuch trinkets, to the amount of between two and three thouſand pounds. On the evening appointed not one of the gueſts was miſſing; but it may eaſily be conceived what a damp it ſtruck upon the whole aſſembly, when it was found that the gay Piedmonteſe had diſappeared. Nor had the Jeſuits any great reaſon to applaud them⯑ſelves for their diſſimulation; as, a few days before his departure, the pretended count, putting on an air of deep concern, placed himſelf in the way of the Emperor's confeſſor; who, enquiring into the cauſe of his apparent melancholy, he entruſted him with the important ſecret; that he was ſhort of money at a junc⯑ture when 8000 louis-d'ors were immediately wanted for his maſter's affairs, to be diſtributed at the Imperial court. The Jeſuits, to whom he had recently given ſuch an inſtance of his liberality, immediately furniſhed him with the ſum he wanted; and with this viaticum, and the ladies' pledges, he very prudently withdrew. Some years after he was taken up for an exploit very different from the laſt, and the Duke gave orders for beheading him; but the ſentence was mitigated into perpetual impriſonment, his council having very elo⯑quently enlarged upon a maxim of law, quod excellens in arte non debeat mori; that is, "He who excels in any art, ought not to be put to death.

[43]Quickneſs of parts and penetration is not here con⯑fined to the great and learned, but even conſpicuous in people of the loweſt claſs; to which, beſides the warmth and ſerenity of the country, their frequent in⯑tercourſe with the French, ſays Keyſler, may not have a little contributed. In the mountains of Aoſta, where neither of theſe circumſtances concur, the inha⯑bitants are an exception to this general character of the Piedmonteſe. They ſeldom travel beyond their hills and vallies; and ſcarce think there is any part of the world inhabited, beſides the ſpot they live upon, and the wens are the conſequence of the mud-water they drink. Such is the power of cuſtom, that a wen by them is reckoned no deformity; and a ſtory goes about, that a foreign woman, who had no wen, coming into one of their churches in ſermon time, a general laughter was heard among them, at ſo uncommon an appearance. It is added, that even the preacher could not contain himſelf for ſome time; but, recovering his gravity, he repreſented to his auditory, that though they might not mean any harm, the natural defects of our neighbour were not a ſubject of laughter; and that a chriſtian, on ſuch occaſions, ſhould rather be thankful to his Maker for his bounty to him, than in⯑ſult his fellow-creatures, from whom God had with⯑held his bleſſings.

[44]As to the ladies' behaviour at Turin, ſays Keyſler, it muſt be owned extremely free; for they are continually talking to the gentlemen, and laughing ſo exceſſively as, in other places, would expoſe them to cenſure. Every one has her gallant, and a confident for carrying on intrigues; and with theſe they chiefly converſe in aſ⯑ſemblies; but a foreigner, who is not diſpoſed to live extravagantly, muſt not expect his acquaintance will be much ſought for by the gay part of the fair ſex. Vanity, and fondneſs for praiſe, induce them to make a mighty ſhew of politeneſs to ſtrangers; they riſe up to them, at their coming into an aſſembly, talk with them of the weather, the opera, and ſuch indifferent matters; but this is their ne plus ultra. Their beha⯑viour of the firſt week continues the ſame for two or three months; but theſe civilities decline much ſooner, if they imagine a ſtranger means to make a longer ſtay at the court, or in the city.

Piedmont, ſays Baretti, who was a native of this province, never produced a ſingle poet; they are even, ſays he, inſenſible to the beauties of an Orlando and a Goffredo; which will inſtantly warm a Roman, a Tuſcan, a Venetian, and a Neapolitan. It is likewiſe obſervable, that no Piedmonteſe ever attained to any degree of excellence in the polite arts; but though they are not to be compared with the reſt of the Ita⯑lians, for brilliancy of imagination and juſtneſs of taſte, [45] yet, as warriors, none can equal them. Every one con⯑verſant in hiſtory knows the brave ſtand made by them, for centuries, whenever their territories have been in⯑vaded by France, by Spain, or by Germany. It is true they have frequently been overpowered by num⯑bers; but they have inſtantaneoſly recovered from their defeat, and given ſufficient cauſe of repentance to the nation that has endeavoured, in vain, to ſubdue them. Such is the martial ſpirit of Piedmont, that even the groſſeſt peaſants are ambitious of appearing in a military character. Their ſkill in fortifications is great, and cannot be exceed by the Vaubans and the Cohorns. Thoſe places, which inferior engineers would have made only ſtrong, they have made im⯑pregnable.

The Turineſe nobles are proud of their deſcent; and diſdain all intercourſe with thoſe of their fellow-ſubjects, whom they think a degree below themſelves; or, when admitted to ſome familiarity, their condeſcen⯑ſion is ſuch a compound of urbanity and haughtineſs, that proves diſguſtful to men of ſpirit. Many of them have obtained the reputation of ſkilful politicians; but their averſion to all ſcientific acquiſitions is ſo great, that few of them have their own language; (I do not mean their patois) fewer ſtill the Latin, and perhaps there is not even one, ſays Baretti, who can read the alphabet in Greek.

[46]Nor are the firſt and ſecond rank of women more informed. A few French romances form their libra⯑ries; nor is it in Piedmont one muſt expect rational entertainment in the converſation of the fair. Some few of them plunge into groſs immorality; but, for the moſt part, even when young and handſome, they give into incorrigible bigotry.

The artiſans and peaſantry excel all the reſt of Italy. No nation can cope with them for their induſtry and ſkill in their manufactures and their huſbandry. Such are the leading traits of their character, as delineated by Bareiti, who was himſelf a native of the capital.

We may add, what ſeems agreed by all writers, that though the government of Piedmont is arbitrary, the peaſants are rich and happy. They pay no diximies, vingtiemes, nor taille, as in France. They can afford to live comfortably; have cattle in abundance, as well as implements of huſbandry to carry on their agricul⯑culture; and are, on Sundays, or jours de ſête, well dreſſed in clothes made of ſilk. The univerſal orna⯑ment of their women is a necklace, of five or ſix rows of gold beads, pretty large, with a croſs and ear-rings of the ſame metal; which generally coſt them from three to ſix hundred livres, of Piedmont, and ſome⯑times more. Every married payſanne is decorated with [47] theſe ornaments, more or leſs expenſive, according to their means.

Duels are not very frequent; but, when they hap⯑pen, they fight with ferocity, and an obſtinacy that ſhocks humanity. The general place of appointment is a little ifland, formed by the Po, juſt within what is called the Port da Po.

The theatre is under great reſtrictions from the police. Before an opera is to be performed, the King himſelf takes the pains to read it over; and to eraſe every line that can admit of an indecent, or double meaning. This attention is particularly paid to the theatre on account of the morals of the royal family. The King is ſo rigidly virtuous, that he never goes to the comic opera, nor permits any of his own family to attend it. Alſo in regard to the dances, as the Ita⯑lian taſte is more inclined to the groteſque, than the ſerious, the danſeuſes jump very high, and kick up their heels in a more ſurprizing, than graceful man⯑ner; but, if their attitudes happen to be unguarded, they have a ſharp rebuke from the police. The de⯑licate Zamperini, after her return from England, ex⯑preſſed too much licentiouſneſs in her action and manner; for which ſhe had an immediate order, from the Ducheſs of Savoy, to quit at once thoſe airs, which La Signiora inſtantly obeyed. The black [48] drawers, worn by the danſeuſes, have a very diſguſting appearance.

The police is ſo ſtrict here as to prevent any riots in the ſtreets; for if three or four perſons only are ſeen, converſing together with animation, the Guet, or guard, comes up; and, if any thing myſterious ap⯑pears in their manner, or that they cannot give a good account of themſelves, they are impriſoned. The wine-houſes are never free from emiſſaries of the po⯑lice. Thus plotting of every kind is, in a great mea⯑ſure, prevented, by their vigilance, whether againſt government, or individuals. No diſorderly women are permitted to walk the ſtreets. The Laquais de place are generally here, as they were in Paris, in the pay of the police; and inform them of all they can diſ⯑cover, in regard to the ſtrangers, whom they ſerve. Each Aubergiſte makes two returns every night, of the ſtrangers lodged with them; their names, profeſſions, country, &c. and, as far as they can gueſs, or learn from Laquais de place, couriers, poſtillions, or voiturins, where they laſt came from, their buſineſs at Turin, their in⯑tended ſtay, and their future deſtination. One of theſe papers is carried to the commandant of the town, the other to the Lieutenant de police, by a perſon whoſe buſineſs it is to call for the ſame, nightly, at each au⯑bergiſte; by ten o'clock the next morning the King has all theſe returns.

[49]In regard to ſtrangers, they ſcarce utter a word that is not carefully treaſured up; they ſhould therefore be on their guard in ſpeaking their ſentiments, as it has often happened that without any intention to in⯑jure them, ſays Lady Millar, what they have ſaid in certain companies has been miſrepreſented to govern⯑ment; for, unfortunately, ſome people in Turin have learned juſt Engliſh enough to qualify them to make capital miſtakes, when they relate ſomething they have heard an Engliſhman ſay. Upon the arrival of the poſt, the letters are immediately carried to the mi⯑niſters of ſtate; who open, read, and ſend them back to the poſt-office, with permiſſion for their delivery to the foreign miniſters, and others, according to their addreſſes. Nor does it unfrequently happen that they are detained, until couriers have been diſpatched with letters of importance, which ſometimes occaſions a de⯑lay of ſeveral hours. The expreſs ſent by the miniſter muſt neceſſarily get the ſtart of the earlieſt that can be forwarded, by any ambaſſador, or foreign miniſter, as no courier, or other perſon, can have poſt-horſes with⯑out an order from the commandant. Theſe may cer⯑tainly be deemed very prudent and political meaſures.

The inquiſition is under excellent regulations; for the preſent King, finding great abuſes had crept into this holy repoſitory, ſuch as ſeizing and conveying away perſons, upon various trifling pretences, often [50] ſuggeſted by pique and reſentment; and this holy of⯑fice having been known to employ its power to gal⯑lant purpoſes; theſe, and the like corruptions, have brought this court into ſuch abhorrence, with the King and people, that no perſon can now be impriſoned by order of the inquiſitors, until the matter has been made known to his Majeſty; upon which one, or more, of the privy counſellors are commiſſioned to ex⯑amine the priſoner, in perſon, and make their report to the King; and, even then, the degree of puniſh⯑ment muſt be ſpecified to his Majeſty. Thus, ſince the powers of theſe holy fiends have been contracted, their dungeons are become almoſt tenantleſs; as peo⯑ple are grown too wary to expoſe themſelves to their ſnares, for any opinions they may entertain in regard to matters of faith.

No inhabitant can re-build, or repair his houſe at Turin, but within the great general plan laid down for the improvement of the town; either he muſt con⯑form to the plan, or ſell to thoſe who will. Thus muſt this city daily increaſe, in the beauty and propor⯑tion of its ſtructures. By ordinance it is prohibited to breed, or keep ſilk-worms in Turin, their ſmell being pernicious to health; but great encouragement is given for their increaſe in the country round about, where they thrive prodigiouſly. A good mulberry-tree will let for, from three to nine livres per annum; ſix is a [51] common price, when in a moderate ſtate of perfection or maturity. The water-meadows, about Turin, are ſo enriched by their manner of dreſſing, that they yield three, and, ſometimes, four crops a year.

The roads near Turin are admirable. In England they can never be like thoſe in deſpotic governments, private property with us being ſacred and valuable by its ſecurity; once give up our liberty, and we ſhall have excellent ſtrait roads; for the monarch of Turin may command the highway to be carried through the bed-chamber of any individual, ſhould it happen to obſtruct his intended plan.

No publication is allowed of here, that might tend to give inſight into the revenues, government, or po⯑licy of this country; this caution excites curioſity, and accounts for their being more enquired into and ſifted, than the affairs of other countries where there is leſs myſtery.

Mountebanks and quack-doctors ſeem to reign here with unreſtrained freedom. It is indeed ordered, un⯑der pain of death, by the univerſity of Turin, that none of theſe itinerants ſhall preſume to ſell any me⯑dicines, without a licence from the profeſſor of phyſic; yet every place ſwarms with theſe haranguers; ſo that the profeſſor muſt either be very free of his licences, [52] or theſe impoſtors muſt give him another kind of drug, very different to that which they ſell to the people. The place du chateau is never without a ſtage or two erected for theſe quacks; where they emulate each other with muſic, drolleries, &c. in order to increaſe the number of their hearers. The manner in which theſe empyrics recommend their medicines has ſome⯑thing in it ſo very extraordinary, that it deſerves to be mentioned. I happened, ſays Keyſler, to hear one who began his harangue in this ſolemn manner. "Bleſſed be the Lord Jeſus Chriſt, of whom I deſire no more than that, according to his righteouſneſs, he will deal with me at the laſt judgment, as I ſhall deal with you this day. I venture my whole ſubſtance out of a ten⯑der concern for your health; but the devil, that eternal enemy to all good, ſo blinds your eyes, that you look upon a few ſous as if they were an hundred crowns, and thus neglect your own welfare, and that of your relations; which you might recover and confirm for a trifle. If I take but a doit from you, againſt my con⯑ſcience, I wiſh I may be ſwallowing your melted mo⯑ney in hell, world without end, Amen, &c."

This impoſtor's panacea conſiſted of two powders, which were inſallible remedies againſt the bloody-flux, the falling-ſickneſs, the cholic, megrim, conſumption and dropſy; and both theſe powders were ſold for ſo ſmall a price as a parabajole, or penny; from which [53] one may judge of the excellence of their ingredients. The tooth-drawers ſeem to retain ſome ſenſe of mo⯑deſty; as they never fail to aſſure the perſon who is under their hands, that they will draw out the tooth with all imaginable eaſe and ſafety, con adjuto di Santa Apollonia; "with the Aſſiſtance of St. Apollonia," the patroneſs and preſerver of teeth; and every time St. Apollonia is named, the doctor and his audience take off their hats, in reverence to the ſaint.

Moſt of the parts of the body have their particular patrons with the Roman Catholics; as St. Agatha, for the breaſt; St. Blaſius, for the throat; concerning whom one patient, by miſtake, prayed thus; S. Guttur rogo te ut liberes me a malo Blaſii, i, e. "St. Throat, I pray thee to deliver me from the pain of Blaiſe." Many of theſe ſaints ſeem to claim this patronage from the ſound of their name; as St. Clare, for ſore eyes; St. Stapinus, for the gout; St. Pancrace, by the com⯑mon people called St. Crampace, againſt the cramp, and nervous diſorders. In like manner among the heathens, Mercury preſided over the feet; Minerva had the care of the fingers; and the eyes were under Apollo's protection.

To prevent exactions from the peaſants in raiſing the price of wood, during winter, there are four large ſtorehouſes of wood and coal belonging to the city; [54] and, when the peaſants are for taking advantage from the weather, fuel is ſold from this magazine at a rea⯑ſonable rate.

The late king would take nothing from the report of others, concerning the police of the city; but ex⯑amined every thing in perſon, from the moſt important tranſactions of his ſubjects, down to the minutiae of the loweſt peaſants, who ſupply the markets, in order to be fully ſatisfied how far juſtice was done, by thoſe en⯑truſted with the execution of the laws; and whether he was himſelf impoſed upon by his own purveyors. The preſent King, it is ſaid, pays more attention to his nobles; places more confidence in the reports made him by his courtiers; and is, conſequently leſs popular among the lower claſſes of people, than his father. However, he treads in the ſteps of his prede⯑ceſſor, in one reſpect, very cloſely. He has a mortal averſion to, what is called by connoiſſeurs, le nud; as three fine antique ſtatues here bear witneſs, an Adonis, a Satyr, and a Hercules. The late king, ſays Lady Mil⯑lar, ſhewed his ſenſe of decency at the expence of three very fine Venus's, by Guido, which he ordered to be cut in two; and, from the breaſt downward, burnt, by his order. The face, neck, and ſhoulders of theſe goddeſſes were perfectly beautiful; and, we may ſuppoſe, the reſt of their perſons were as full of merit, being the produc⯑tion of ſo great a maſter.

[55]The univerſity, beſides its ſpaciouſneſs, is one of the fineſt buildings in the city; particularly its front, towards Rue de l'academie, which is very large, lofty, and magnificent. The profeſſors, of which there are a conſiderable number, are called ſapientiſſimi patres. All the learned profeſſions, throughout the whole country, require a previous examination, by the uni⯑verſity, with proper recommendations. No noiſy trade is allowed near it. The apartment, appropri⯑ated for the library, contains a valuable collection of books, with a muſeum of antiques. Amongſt the re⯑markable curioſities in this muſeum, is a little vellum book, much prized by the dilettanti; it containing a deſign of the famous Julio Romano in every leaf. This muſeum and the library are open for ſeveral hours every day, both morning and evening; not only for the ſtudents of the univerſity, but for ſtrangers to have free acceſs to. The number of ſtudents, at preſent, is computed to be above three thouſand. Whenever I went thither, ſays Groſley, I was much ſurprized to ſee the library always full of young ec⯑cleſiaſtics, buſied in the ſtudy of the fathers, and other works relating to their profeſſion. This epocha for learning, among them, was only from the laſt years of the reign of King Victor. This prince deprived the Jeſuits of the direction of the public ſtudies, and their place has been ſupplied by the univerſity.

[56]It is not difficult for a ſtranger to get admittance into the firſt circles of Turin, provided he is diſpoſed to play; but if he plays, he muſt be very much on his guard; for though he may have to do with perſons of the ſtricteſt honour, and no foul play in the leaſt to be apprehended; yet, if he is not a very expert gameſter indeed, he is certain to come off a loſer. The Pied⯑monteſe play at dice, as it were, from their infancy; and thus attain to ſuch perfection in this art, that very ſew are a match for them. A very celebrated coffee-houſe here for gaming, was that called L'Aca⯑demie de Pompeio; in which the famous projector Law, once playing at dice, promiſed to return four-fifths of what he ſhould win; yet, in a ſhort time, his ſhare amounted to ninety louis-d'ors; upon which he pointed out the faults he had obſerved in the dice; and how, from thence, he could infer what ſides would come up ofteneſt, or ſeldomeſt.

Of the inconveniences to be met with in Turin, the moſt obvious are the thick fogs; which, in autumn and winter, are continually riſing from the Po, and other rivers; by which the air is rendered thick and moiſt, and, conſequently unhealthy. Theſe exhalations very much incommode the city, which is often in⯑volved in fogs and rain; while Rivoli enjoys a ſerene ſky, and bright ſunſhine.

[57]Another inconvenience, almoſt as bad, ariſes from the foul muddy water in moſt of the wells in this city; chiefly owing to an unpardonable negligence, in not keeping them ſweet and clean; dead dogs and cats, and other filth, being often thrown into them.

The inns alſo ſtand in great need of better regula⯑tion, that travellers may be well uſed, and not ſo into⯑lerably impoſed upon. There is not a place, in all Italy, where the entertainment is ſo bad, at the ſame expence.

The manner of burying their dead is alſo very diſ⯑agreeable. The corpſe is carried in proceſſion to the ground, with the face uncovered, where it is put into the grave, without any coffin. This is not only a ſhocking ſpectacle, at all times, but, when the deceaſed happens to die of the ſmall-pox, meaſles, or any contagious diſtemper, it may cauſe a very unhappy impreſſion on pregnant women, and other perſons, who are liable to catch the infection. The maſked fraternities, who oftend attend at funerals, of whom nothing but the eyes are to be ſeen, make indeed a dreadful, but a very ſhabby proceſſion. It is alſo very diſagreeable that, even when there is any contagious diſtemper in the city, three or four corpſes ſhall lie a whole day, in the churches, uncovered. Perſons of rank have family vaults, in the churches and chapels; but the lower [58] ſort are thrown into a vault, belonging to their pariſh church, fifty, or an hundred and fifty together; and without any coffins. Theſe receptacles, indeed, are very deep, and have ſeveral doors, the paſſage leading to them being vaulted; but this cannot prevent the cadaverous ſmell, and noxious effluvia, from pene⯑trating into the churches. This impropriety is not peculiar to Turin, but common to moſt large cities, eſpecially in Popiſh countries; yet it is a practice contrary to reaſon, and ought entirely to be laid aſide in every country. In this particular, ſays Keyſler, I am mightily pleaſed with Dr. Verbeyen, profeſſor of phyſic and anatomy, at Louvain; who compoſed the following epitaph, for himſelf, in Latin. "Philip Verbeyen, Doctor and Profeſſor of Phyſic, ordered his remains to be buried in the church-yard here, that he might not pollute the church, and infect it, with noxious effluvia. May he reſt in peace!"

CHAP. VI. Commerce, Revenues, and Government.

THE ſubſtance of the commerce of Piedmont is raw ſilk. The Piedmonteſe nobility keep large ſtocks of ſilk-worms, which, under certain reſtrictions, they commit to the care of their tenants; the punctual attendance they require being a work of no ſmall trouble. The proprietor furniſhes the eggs; and, in return, has half the ſilk. From the number of white mulberry-trees, in any perſon's plantation, it is nearly computed how many worms the owner may breed. The number of worms produced from a ſingle ounce of eggs will conſume, from eighty, to one hun⯑dred and forty rubbs of mulberry leaves; each rubb weighs five-and-twenty pounds. Theſe leaves, when ſold, fetch from ten, to five-and-twenty ſols per rubb. The eggs ſell from three and a half, to five livres an ounce. An ounce of eggs will ſometimes yield four rubbs of cods, with the ſilk on; every pound of which is worth from twenty, to five-and-twenty ſols: theſe [60] being thrown into warm water, the threads are eaſily detached, and wound off to the very laſt. A pound of fine ſilk, thus wound, fetches a louis-d'or.

Grazing likewiſe turns to ſuch good account, that the profits on this article are computed at three mil⯑lions of livres; a conſiderable part of which ariſes from the ſale of bullocks, to the Milaneſe. There are ſome ſalt-ſprings in Savoy; of which the King has the entire profit; he diſpoſes of the whole profit to the Switzers.

Many of the manufactures of Turin are carried on for the King's account; as tobacco, ſalt, lead, &c. All the ſalt conſumed in the kingdom comes from Sar⯑dinia; every head of a family is obliged to take eight pounds yearly, for each individual of his family, who has paſſed the ſeventeenth year; for each cow or ox two, for every hog four, at four ſols per pound; if he happens to want more he has it half that price. The farmers here give their cattle ſalt, at certain ſeaſons, which certainly ſucceeds extremely well; it being im⯑poſſible too ſee finer cattle, of every kind, than in this country. The oxen and cows are nearly quite white; they are ſhaded with grey and brown, in a moſt beau⯑tiful manner, and have remarkably pretty faces, with pencilled eyebrows. There is ſcarce a table at Turin where a ſoup made of veal, ſerved with the bouillie, is [61] not a ſtanding diſh; and frequently veal, repeated again, at the ſame repaſt, under ſome other form; for it is a piece of policy here to cry down the beef as unwhole⯑ſome, though as fine as any in Leadenhall market, in order to perſuade the people to conſume the veal; the full-grown oxen being driven to Genoa, where they yield a better price than in the Genoa market.

The chief trade of this city and country, ſays Mar⯑tyn, is in thrown ſilk, which is ſent to England and Lyons; they manufacture, however, ſome of it into excellent ſtockings, and good ſilk for furniture. They are likewiſe famous for roſoli, millefleurs, ſnuff, cha⯑mois, gloves, and ſome other trifles. They import broad-cloth and linen from Great Britain; ſome woollen and Lyon goods from France; linens from Switzerland and Sileſia: alſo iron, copper, ſugar, and drugs of all ſorts. Their chief export is cattle, ſome hemp and cordage; they reckon that upwards of ninety thouſand bullocks are annually ſent out of Piedmont. A great deal of wine is made at Pied⯑mont, but it is not good; the principal attention of government has been beſtowed on the cultivation of mulberry trees. Rice alſo is a great object of culture in ſome provinces.

The affairs relating to the finances, in all courts, are kept ſecret; and, neceſſarily, much more ſo here. [62] A certain ſtateſman, however, ſays Keyſler, eſtimates the King's entire yearly revenue at twenty millions of Piedmonteſe livres; of which the duties on ſilk pro⯑duce five, and thoſe on hemp and rice, three millions. As to the kingdom of Sardinia, it is evident, that the charges of the troops and civil officers being de⯑ducted, the reſidue of the annual income from that kingdom, cannot exceed a hundred thouſand livres; and that the importance of that country, to the houſe of Savoy, is more on account of its regality, than its revenue.

In the King's territories, on the continent, are ſix⯑teen biſhoprics; among which are the two archbiſhops of Turin and the Tarantaiſe. Beſides the city of Turin, above three hundred and forty towns and vil⯑lages are ſubject to the juriſdiction of the former; and as, among the Roman Catholics, every one is obliged to communicate at Eaſter, and deliver to the prieſt an account of his children and family, the whole number of the inhabitants, of ſuch a country, may be pretty accurately known; and I have been aſſured, ſay; Keyſler, from ſuch computations, the King's ſubjects in Piedmont and Savoy, and other parts on the con⯑tinent, amount to two millions, and ſome thouſands.

The duty on ſnuff is farmed for four hundred thou⯑ſand livres; and travellers ſhould be careful to have [63] no foreign tobacco among their baggage. At firſt it was farmed only for twelve thouſand; afterwards the ſame perſon, being a Jew, paid more than treble that ſum for it; and when a friend diſſuaded him, obſerving it would probably ruin him, he replied, "The uſe of ſnuff is a pernicious cuſtom, and conſequently will daily increaſe; ſo that there is no danger to be appre⯑hended from raiſing the farm, it being the nature of mankind to be extremely addicted to what is hurtful." The King's revenues, ſays Martyn, are eſtimated at little more than a million ſterling; with this his houſe⯑hold is well ſupported and paid, his troops well cloathed, and always complete.

The King's prerogative, in civil affairs, is equal to that of any monarch in Europe; and, in eccleſiaſtical matters, few kings, of the Roman Catholic religion, carry it with ſo high a hand as his preſent Majeſty, and his late anceſtors have done. Care indeed has been taken to treat the Pope with all poſſible com⯑plaiſance; but the King has obtained from him the diſpoſal of moſt eccleſiaſtical benefices in Savoy and Piedmont; as alſo the nomination to a cardinal's hat.

CHAP. VII. Army.

THE ſituation of the King of Sardinia's domi⯑nions, on the continent, oblige him to be on his guard, in caſe of any broils between the Houſe of Auſtria and Bourbon; but his preſent Majeſty, and his anceſtors, have found means to reap ſome advant⯑age from all the wars that have happened for above a century paſt. A war in Italy being very expenſive, both to the French and Germans, the houſe of Savoy has ſhewn it knows how to value its friendſhip accord⯑ingly. The duchy of Savoy lies expoſed to the French, and can be taken poſſeſſion of by them with little, or no reſiſtance. The King of Sardinia cannot think of being a gainer by declaring war againſt France; the great power of that monarchy, and the mountainous nature of the country, being a bar againſt his Sardinian Majeſty's extending his dominions on that ſide; be⯑ſides, with the aſſiſtance of France, he may face all his enemies. On the other hand, it is not eaſy to diſlodge [65] the houſe of Auſtria from any of its poſſeſſions by force; therefore the more adviſeable way has always been to procure ſome little advantages by leagues and ſtipulations. This method has anſwered ſo well as, by degrees, to transfer almoſt the whole country of Mount⯑ſerat, and ſome other neighbouring territories, into the hands of the houſe of Savoy.

His Majeſty's regular forces conſiſt of about twenty two thouſand men, excluſive of the horſe-guards and artillery; and fifteen well diſciplined regiments of militia. Theſe laſt have only their cloathing, and a ſol per day; they are continually at their own ha⯑bitations, where they ſubſiſt by huſbandry, and other labour; except twice a year, when they are muſtered, and exerciſed for a few weeks; but, on theſe occa⯑ſions, they receive the ſame pay as the regulars. He has ſour regiments of foreigners, moſtly Germans, which make a body of five thouſand men; and not only ſerve to give a greater weight to his authority in his own country; but alſo that the Piedmonteſe, and Savoyard ſoldiers, having before their eyes a pattern of complete diſcipline, may be ſtirred up to emulate them. There is likewiſe this additional advantage, that ſo conſiderable a part of the forces conſiſting of foreigners, more hands may be ſpared for tillage. The great advantage of peopling a country in peaceable times, with peaſants rather than ſoldiers, was not un⯑known [66] to George I. who iſſued an order in his Ger⯑man dominions, that every ſoldier there, who would undertake the management of a farm, or turn peaſant, ſhould have his diſcharge for ten dollars. The King of Sardinia has alſo lately renewed a law of the re⯑gent ducheſs Chriſtina, calculated for increaſing the human ſpecies. By this law it was enacted, that all parents having twelve children, lawfully begotten, ſhould be exempted, during life, from all taxes. In the number of the twelve children are included, not only thoſe of the firſt generation, but likewiſe the grand⯑children, whoſe fathers happen to die before their grandfather; as alſo thoſe who are killed in the king's ſervice. Each of theſe foreign regiments conſiſts of twelve hundred men; and, by virtue of their particu⯑lar capitulations, ſuch a regiment brings the colonel in between ten, and twelve thouſand dollars a year. In the year 1710, a great number of proteſtant re⯑cruits for one of theſe German regiments coming into Piedmont; ſeveral of the common ſoldiers uſed to make a practice, upon entering into any new gar⯑riſon where they were not known, of publicly pro⯑feſſing themſelves Roman Catholics. The motives were not owing to conſcience or devotion; but to the ſum of five livres, which was paid to every one who came over to the Romiſh church; beſides what they got from monaſteries, and people of ſubſtance. Among theſe recruits was an honeſt Swabian, of ſuch an open [67] frankneſs and ſimplicity, that he went about all Turin, aſking, in his own country dialect, where that monaſ⯑tery was, that gave five livres to any one turning Catholic.

It contributes not a little to the maintenance of mi⯑litary diſcipline and order, that the regiments conti⯑nually do duty at Turin, as the King's foot-guards. The preſence, and attention of his Majeſty, cauſes ſuch care and punctuality to be obſerved among the troops, as would probably be neglected in any other quarter. The guard is daily relieved by an hundred and twenty men, and conſiſts of twenty-four grena⯑diers, thirty troopers, and about one hundred and thirty muſqueteers.

The pay of the troop of horſe-guards is about twen⯑ty-ſix thouſand livres a year. The private men, who are moſtly noblemen, have each five-and-twenty livres a month. Their uniform is provided by the King. As the king travels very expeditiouſly, they are often hard put to it. It is a long hour's journey, from Tu⯑rin to La Veniere, on a round trot; and, to go to Rivoli, it takes up three hours; yet the king runs the former in a quarter, and the latter in three-quarters of an hour. If a horſe dies, the officer to whom the horſe belonged muſt provide another.

[68]In the other regiments the appointments are ſtill more ſlender. Officers, quartered at Turin, have in⯑deed an opportunity of boarding themſelves on very reaſonable terms. The king has an exact account of all his officers, obſerves every one's good and bad qualities, and, from time to time, makes very particu⯑lar enquiries, not only of one, but of ſeveral perſons, concerning the behaviour of every one of them. From theſe informations he prefers them, without any re⯑gard to rank or ſeniority. It is alſo the King's plea⯑ſure that all offices, in his majeſty's immediate diſpoſal, be accounted equally honourable. A miniſter of ſtate once petitioning the King to make his ſon a lieutenant, or an enſign, comme un petit employ, i. e. as an incon⯑ſiderable poſt; the King anſwered, Je nay point de pe⯑tits employs à donner; I have no inconſiderable poſt to give away. It is owing to this that the ſons of many, of the nobleſt and wealthieſt families, are en⯑ſigns and lieutenants. Beſides, no perſon can obtain a place at court, without having ſerved in the army.

The tranſactions of the laſt wars have ſerved to in⯑ſpire the Piedmonteſe with a martial ſpirit; and ſuch actions were performed by their troops, as would have done honour to the ancient Romans. Towards the cloſe of the laſt war, when marſhal Catinat invaded Piedmont, it was of the higheſt importance to the Duke of Savoy, to march in time for putting Turin in a [69] better poſture of defence. To this end he diſpatched the Count de Santena, then a major, and afterwards a general, with a few hundred men, to an old caſtle, about three German miles from Turin, which com⯑mands the road and valley from Suſa. As the French army was paſſing by Santena, he fired at them, with what little artillery he had. Catinat, who was no leſs ſurprized than provoked, at this inſult, ſent to the caſtle, threatening to hang up the commanding officer; who returned him for anſwer, that he ſhould never have him alive; and that, till the artillery ſhould be brought before the caſtle, no ſurrender was to be expected. Catinat now ſtill more incenſed, ordered a battery to be erected, and the caſtle ſummoned a ſecond time. Santena anſwered that a breach muſt firſt be made; which being begun, he offered to ca⯑pitulate. Catinat ſent a lieutenant into the caſtle to ſettle the articles of capitulation; but, as a prelimi⯑nary condition, demanded that the ſoldiers ſhould be made priſoners of war, and the officers hanged. Upon this Santena took the lieutenant into his chamber, ſhut the door, and conducted him between two barrels of powder, with two lighted matches lying by. Santena, taking one of the lighted matches, got upon one of the powder barrels, and deſired the lieutenant to fol⯑low his example; adding, that ſince he muſt die, many more of the French ſhould take a ſpring into the air, before all the Piedmonteſe in the caſtle ſhould [70] loſe their lives. The lieutenant ſo little reliſhed this compliment, that he begged Santena to lay aſide this deſperate deſign, promiſing to do all that lay in his power for obtaining an honourable capitulation. Upon this aſſurance the commandant diſmiſſed the lieutenant; who having made his report to Catinat, the marſhal ſaid, I muſt ſee this man of ſuch extraordi⯑nary ſpirit and reſolution; and allowed that he and his men ſhould march out with their ſwords. As San⯑tena paſſed by him, the marſhal ſaid, that he did in⯑deed deſerve well to be hanged; but, to ſhew him he could eſteem courage and bravery in an enemy, he ſhould dine with him that day. At table ſome of the officers upbraided Santena, on account of the Duke of Savoy's forming a league, with heretics, againſt the Moſt Chriſtian King. Santena remained ſilent for ſome time; till, at laſt, he aſked the marſhal if he would allow him freedom of ſpeech; Catinat conſent⯑ing, he replied, "That his maſter had indeed, for ſelf-defence, taken arms againſt the King of France, and had entered into an alliance with heretics, ſuch as the Engliſh and Dutch; nay, further, that his maſter was for doing ſomething worſe, and had ſent to Conſtan⯑tinople to negociate a league with the Turks; but that his Moſt Chriſtian Majeſty had been before hand with him." Catenat laughed at the officers, who had forced this keen repartee from Santena, ſaying this might teach them never to inſult brave men under misfor⯑tunes. [71] However, Santena had the good fortune to ob⯑tain, for his maſter, a ſuſpenſion of arms for ſome days.

The Piedmonteſe have likewiſe ſignalized them⯑ſelves for their valour in foreign ſervice; of which, among others, the late general St. Amour is an in⯑ſtance. When he was made colonel of a regiment, the officers, who valued themſelves upon their birth, were ſo extremely piqued againſt him, he being but a pea⯑ſant's ſon, that he was challenged by four of his cap⯑tains ſucceſſively, whom he killed upon the ſpot; and, upon diſpatching the laſt, ſaid, "There are now but eight left;" but the others thought fit to let the affair drop. It was not his valour only which entitled that gentleman to the higheſt eſteem; but alſo his prudence and diſcretion, in never forgetting the meanneſs of his extraction. Once, while he was at table in Piedmont, with the chief officers and generals, whom he had in⯑vited to an entertainment, his father happened to come into the houſe, and ſent up word of his arrival. St. Amour informed his gueſts of it, adding, that he was not inſenſible of the regard due to them, but begged leave that he might dine with his father in the next room. He accordingly withdrew, though the com⯑pany was very urgent with him, that his father might ſit down at their table; and thus acted up to the cha⯑racter of the dutiful ſon, and the polite gentleman.

[72]Among the fortifications of moſt note, in this coun⯑try, is Fort Brunette; which ſtands on the road be⯑tween Suſa and Novaleſe, and, perhaps, has not its equal in the whole world. It conſiſts of eight baſ⯑tions; and, together with all its out-works, was hewn out of a rock. The baſtions, and other works, have a communication by ſubterraneous paſſages, under rocks; which are ſo large that carriages, and heavy cannon, with ſeveral horſes, may very conveniently go from one place to another. Of the whole fortreſs, not a ſingle building is to be ſeen; and, of the garri⯑ſon, only ſome centinels. Cannons and mines are of no ſignification here; and 2000 men, well ſupplied with ſtores and proviſions, would eaſily weary out a numerous army. It commands two vallies. This fortreſs, though eſteemed impregnable by the Pied⯑monteſe, Monſieur Richard, in his tour through Italy, ſays, he thinks it to be commanded by two mountains; but, however, he makes a ſhrewd reſtection, and very a-propos, "That it would be difficult to bring up, and plant a battery of cannon on theſe mountains;" which no doubt it is impoſſible to do.

CHAP. IX. Laws.

AMONG ſome excellent laws and ordinances made by the late king of Sardinia, is his care for the ſecurity of the roads; by theſe means one may now travel in Italy, with as much ſafety as in any other country. Banditti are thoſe malefactors who have been baniſhed or have incurred ſome other pe⯑nalty, but have not yet fallen into the hands of juſtice, or elſe eſcaped from it: as theſe perſons often lurk about on the frontiers, where they ſupport them⯑ſelves by rapine and violence; they who infeſt the roads, or aſſaſſins who hire themſelves out to com⯑mit murder, likewiſe, go under the name of ban⯑ditti. Italy was formerly over-run by theſe vermin; but the Duke de Caſpi, viceroy of Naples, demon⯑ſtrating that they were eaſily to be reduced by reſo⯑lution and ſeverity; all the other ſtates, and parti⯑cularly the houſe of Savoy, determined to purſue the plan.

[74]In order to create a mutual diſtruſt and diviſion among the banditti, any one of theſe miſcreants delivering up another to the magiſtrates, convicted of a like crime with himſelf, or of a greater, re⯑ceived a full and free pardon. Of ſuch banditti as were guilty of very extraordinary and flagrant crimes, an exact liſt was every year put up in all the public places, ſignifying, that any one might kill them with impunity. Whoever delivered ſuch a one alive was entituled to an exemption from puniſhment, whatever ſentence had been paſſed upon him; or, if that was not his caſe, he might transfer the benefit, and obtain pardon for another, except in caſes of high treaſon. If the banditti was delivered up dead, the privilege of pardon extended to the per⯑ſon that delivered up the criminal, and to his neareſt relations. Any one bringing a banditti to juſtice, who either will not or cannot take the benefit of the pardon, receives in lieu thereof a certain ſum of money, out of the king's treaſury. At firſt the ex⯑tirpation of the banditti was a difficult work, the principal nobility making uſe of theſe bravoes as aſſaſſins for their private revenge, and affording them all poſſible protection. Two noblemen in particular ſheltered two banditti, who had between them aſſaſſinated 48 perſons, and even one of them was ſo abandoned, that afterwards he murdered a father and his two ſons. At that very time Alexan⯑dria, [75] with the adjacent country, being ceded to the king of Sardinia, the third ſon of that unhappy fa⯑ther, laid his caſe before his new ſovereign. The king, who was determined to make an example where it was ſo highly neceſſary, ſent for the two noblemen to court, under ſome alluring pretences, and upon their arrival ordered them to be taken into cuſtody. It was then ſignified to them, that if they did not produce thoſe villains, or give intelli⯑gence how they might be ſecured, their heads ſhould anſwer for it. This menace forced them to com⯑ply, and one of theſe murderers being ſurprized, was put to the torture, and executed in the town where he was born. The neighbourhood, and the town itſelf, ſwarmed with ſecret banditti, ſo that the king was obliged to ſend two regiments to at⯑tend the execution; and in the morning proclama⯑tion was made, that if any of the inhabitants ſhould be found out of their reſpective dwellings before the execution was over, they ſhould be immediately hanged up. The other made his eſcape to Genoa, and being a very enterpriſing fellow was not eaſily to be caught; but, as no farther miſchief could be ap⯑prehended from him, he obtained his pardon under certain reſtrictions and limitations, and now lives, ſays Keyſler, quietly at Alexandria.

[76]There is another commendable regulation, that from the inferior judge, an appeal lies to the preſi⯑dent of the province, and from him, within ten days after notice of the ſentence, to the ſenate at Turin. No magiſtrates or judges are to take any preſents except proviſions, and of them only a ſufficient quantity for three days. Every malefactor that is taken up, is to be examined within 24 hours after he is in cuſtody, under the penalty of ten ecûs dór, payable by the judge. The anſwer, and the protocal, after being diſtinctly and audibly read over to the plaintiff, muſt be ſigned by him; or if he cannot write, he is to ſet his mark to it before witneſſes. Any one knowingly altering bad money, although not at all concerned with the coiners of it, is con⯑demned for ten years to the gallies. A perſon guilty of theft for the firſt offence, if it be no bur⯑glary, nor exceeding in value two golden crowns, is condemned to draw in a cart like a horſe; but if it exceed that ſum, he is puniſhed with a public whip⯑ping. For the ſecond fault, whatever the ſum be, the delinquent is branded in the arm, and con⯑demned for five years at leaſt to the gallies, and ſometimes longer, according to the circumſtances of the fact. A third fault condemns a man to the gal⯑lies for life; but a thief is not puniſhed with death, till he be found guilty a fourth time. A houſe-breaker for the firſt fact, if it be under 25 gold [77] crowns, is condemned to the gallies during life, and upon a repetition of the ſame offence is puniſhed with death; a ſervant ſtealing, to the value of 25 gold crowns, is put to death for the firſt offence. A notary making a falſe inſtrument, or forging a title to an eſtate forfeits his life. No perſon is to carry fire-arms of any ſort, not even upon a journey, un⯑der the penalty of loſing them and a fine of 50 gold crowns, which if they cannot pay, they are con⯑demned for two years to the gallies. This order does not extend to the officers of the king's houſe⯑hold, nor to foreign travellers; yet theſe, if they are not noblemen or gentlemen, muſt part with them during their ſtay in any town. Some arms are abſo⯑lutely prohibited, ſuch as ſhort pocket-piſtols, poig⯑nards, Genoeſe two-edged pointed knives, daggers, concealed in canes, &c. Any perſon having theſe arms only in his houſe, is condemned to the gallies for five years, and he on whom they are found, for double that term. By this wiſe regulation the ſafety of travellers is provided for, and tumults and other diſorders generally prevented.

The laws here are particularly ſevere againſt the Jews, death being the puniſhment for the leaſt con⯑tumelious language againſt the Virgin Mary, or any of the ſaints; as alſo for expreſſing any contempt of their images. Both ſexes among them entering their [78] 15th year, are to wear on their right breaſt, by way of an ignominious diſtinction, a yellow badge of nine inches long, made of ſilk or wool. In the paſ⯑ſion-week from Wedneſday to Saturday, the Jews muſt not ring a bell nor ſtir out of their houſes; their doors and windows alſo are to be kept ſhut under penalty of three days impriſonment, and ſub⯑ſiſting on bread and water during that time; but if any Jew ſings or plays on a muſical inſtrument on thoſe days in the paſſion-week, they are to be pub⯑licly whipped.

The language of the Piedmonteſe is a mixture of French and Italian; many of the words are entirely French, but pronounced in the ſame manner that they are written, as for example lait milk is pro⯑nounced as it would be in Engliſh, ſo is fait, and many other words.

CHAP. X. The Iſland and Kingdom of Sardinia.

LIES in the Mediterranean, and is divided from the iſland of Corſica by the ſtraits of Bonifacio. From north to ſouth it is 160 Engliſh miles; and from weſt to caſt 80. The ſoil is fertile in oil and wine, and there are a great number of oranges, ci⯑trons and olives; but it is not properly cultivated, the inhabitants being little inclined to tillage, and preferring to live upon the ſpontaneous productions of the earth, rather than improve it by huſbandry. They are ſo far from experiencing any ſcarcity of corn, notwithſtanding ſo much of the country is uncultivated, that ſome years, it is ſaid, they export to the amount of 8 or 900,000 buſhels, which is ſent for the moſt part into Spain. They have alſo great quantities of cattle as well as game; beeves and ſheep, in particular, are numerous, as well as horſes, which are very good for labour, and for the road. They are fed in the little iſlands about it, [80] which are likewiſe abounding in game. On the coaſt is a fiſhery for anchovies and coral, of which they ſend large quantities to Genoa and Leghorn. They have alſo great quantities of that celebrated Epicurean fiſh-turtle.

The high mountains on the north ſide render the air very unhealthy, by obſtructing the wind from ſweeping through the whole iſland. It is to be at⯑tributed, perhaps, to this circumſtance that the iſland is full of moraſſes. Theſe mountains contain mines of ſilver, lead, ſulphur, and alum, and they make a good deal of ſalt. The inhabitants were formerly ſo rude and clowniſh, that the Romans baniſhed their ſtate-priſoners to this iſland. It is divided into two parts; the northern called Cape Logadori, from a cape of that name in the north; and the ſouthern Cape Cagliari, from the capital city, which ſtands in this part of the iſland.

Cagliari is ſituated on the declivity of a hill, near the bay, to which it gives name on the ſouth-eaſt part of the iſland, and is a large handſome and po⯑pulous city, with a tolerable harbour, and very briſk trade. It has alſo a univerſity, is the ſee of an archbiſhop, and the ſeat of the viceroy. This city was taken by the Engliſh in 1708, who trans⯑ferred it to the Emperor Charles VI. but it was re⯑taken [81] by the Spaniards in 1717, and about two years after ceded to the duke of Savoy in lieu of Si⯑cily, and hence he has the title of King of Sar⯑dinia.

Saffari is another large town on the north-weſt part of the iſland, ſituated in a place about ten miles from the ſea. It has a caſtle, and an archbiſhop's ſee, and contains about 30,000 inhabitants. It is likewiſe famous for a fountain called Roſſel, which is ſaid to be much more magnificent than any in Rome. The inhabitants have the following pro⯑verb, chi non vide Roſſel, non vide mondo, 'he that has not ſeen Roſſel, has not ſeen the world.'

This kingdom is of more importance to the houſe of Savoy as a monarchy, than on account of its re⯑venues; for the charges of the army and civil officers being deducted, the remainder, does not bring in above 4 or 5000 a year. It is governed by a vice⯑roy. Biſani mentions, that having caſt anchor in one of the bays of this iſland, the inhabitants aſſembled and fired upon the veſſel, and it was with great difficulty he and his companions were permitted to make a landing. He bears witneſs to the unhealthineſs of the iſland, which is noticed ſo far back as by Pauſanias, who attributes the bad air in this iſland to the ſalt-pits, and the violence of the ſouth wind, which is continually raging on [82] theſe coaſts. The peaſants, from his deſcription of their dreſs and manners, appear little better than ſavages. They let their beard grow, ſays he, wear a red cap, and are dreſſed in a doublet of black felt, covered with a kind of cuiraſs made of deers ſkin, which they lace before, and reaches to their knees. Their breeches and boots are of the ſame kind, and a girdle goes round their waiſte, with a long ſti⯑letto hanging to it. Their manner of living is free and uncontrouled. They follow no occupation, but live upon milk and game. They are continually at variance with each other, and their quarrels gene⯑rally terminate in a tragic manner. Murderers are ſecure by going a few villages off, and uniting them⯑ſelves with ſome banditti till they can obtain a par⯑don from the friends of the deceaſed. Theſe people pay ſo little regard to the king's edicts, that they frequently commence hoſtilities againſt the military, and maſſacre the officers, who in revenge, cut them to pieces where they can get at them, ſeize upon their cattle, and burn their habitations. In the cities, however, the inhabitants are leſs fero⯑cious; they cultivate the lands and are very civil to ſtrangers. On the ſea-coaſt, adds the above au⯑thor, near Oreſtan, are the ruins of an ancient town, among which a ſoldier had found a Carthaginian medal that he preſented to us.

[83]The firſt colonies were planted here by the Phoe⯑nicians, who erected little ſtates and principalities in the iſland, as they had before done in Italy and Sicily. The Carthaginians then brought the whole iſland under their ſubjection, of which they were afterwards diſperſed by the Romans.

CHAP. XI. Duchy of Montferat.

THE duchy of Montferat bounded to the weſt and north by Piedmont; to the eaſt by Milan, and to the ſouth by the republic of Genoa, is a country abounding in every thing, particularly in corn and excellent Muſcadine wine. It contains about 200 cities, towns, and villages. In 1631, 75 places of this duchy were firſt transferred to the duke of Sa⯑voy, in lieu of a yearly income of 15,000 crowns, payable to him by the duke of Mantua. In 1703 the emperor gave alſo to the duke that part of Montferat, which the dukes of Mantua had held as a fief from the emperor, to be held by him pur⯑ſuant to the ſame tenure. The moſt remarkable [84] place in the duchy is Verua, a town once fortified, which ſtands over the river Po, on a ſteep rock. It was ſeveral times beſieged and taken, but in 1705 the French, irritated by the long defence it main⯑tained againſt them, blew up its fortifications.

CHAP. XII. Piedmonteſe Vallies.

LES valleés de Piemont, the Piedmonteſe Vallies, called alſo the Vallies Angrogne, and ſome⯑times ſimply the Vallies, lie weſtward, contiguous to the French province of Dauphiné. The valley of Lucerne is 15 miles in length, but of unequal breadth. This valley forms a vaſt cavity between the higheſt mountains, to which there is no acceſs but with the greateſt difficulty. It can conve⯑niently hold a great number of men, and here it was, that in the ſevereſt perſecutions of the chriſ⯑tian church, the old Barte or valley preachers, be⯑fore the reformation, uſed to preach without ob⯑ſtruction, [85] and qualify youth for the ſacred miniſtry. In the ſouthern parts are only cheſnut plantations and paſtures; but on the hills towards the north, grow wine, corn, herbs, and plants. The fineſt corn is produced amid ranges of vine-eſpaliers.

The valley of St. Martin is about the ſame ex⯑tent. This is the ſtrongeſt fortified of any, for be⯑ſides the prodigious mountains, at leaſt eight or ten months of the year, covered with ſnow, and conſe⯑quently not to be paſſed, it is acceſſible only by a very narrow cavity, called the Tower-bridge, cut through a rock, and no broader than the rapid river, or rather brook, running through it; over which is a lofty bridge, which on being broke down, it is impoſſible to enter the valley.

In theſe vallies, eſpecially that of St. Martin, among the higheſt of the mountains and impaſſable rocks, are large woods and thickets, abounding in white hares, which retain that colour all the year round; beſides foxes, large pheaſants, and brown and white partridges. Theſe thickets are alſo re⯑markable for being the haunts of wolves and bears. On the higheſt parts of the Alps, and in open places, when only a little herbage grows, are found the Marmottes, a creature ſomething larger than a rabbet, and in colour of a mixed brown and red. [86] The fleſh, which is eaten, has much the taſte of pork. The animal has a very ſhrill cry, and paſſes eight or nine months of the year, that is, whilſt theſe mountains are covered with ſnow, in a pro⯑found ſleep. Beſides the chamois, here is alſo an animal very like a goat or chamois. Its conſtant abode is in the mountains, which, on account of their height, are ever covered with ſnow. It gene⯑rally ſleeps on the ice, is much fleeter than the cha⯑mois, and the fleſh, by the inhabitants, is reckoned very ſtrengthening. When any perſon is benumbed with cold, or deprived of the uſe of a limb by the froſt, ſome drops of this creature's blood are admi⯑niſtered in warm wine or broth; which, upon the patient's being put to bed, throws him into a great ſweat, after which he recovers. Among the tame beaſts is the tumar, engendered either by a bull and a mare, or by a bull and a ſhe-aſs: the latter ſpecies is conſiderably ſmaller, and called Bif; the former, called Baſ, has the upper mandible ſhorter than the lower, and both almoſt reſembling thoſe of ſwine. The head and tail are like thoſe of an ox, but the former inſtead of horns, has only ſmall knobs; in all other reſpects they are ſhaped either like an horſe or aſs. Though not ſo large as a mule, they are of ſurpriſing ſtrength, eat little, are very ſwift-footed, and excellent beaſts for travelling. Some rare plants reputed reſtoratives, and of very corroborat⯑ing [87] qualities, ſuch as the Lunaria are found in theſe mountains; they yield alſo, a kind of thiſtles, not unlike artichoaks, which are eaten, and reck⯑oned exceeding good againſt any contagious diſ⯑order.

Theſe vallies have always belonged to Piedmont. The Waldenſes, their inhabitants, to whom they have given name, have rendered themſelves famous in hiſtory, from the perſecutions they underwent on account of their religion. The number of people in theſe vallies, ſcarce exceeds 7000. They have diſtinguiſhed themſelves very much in all the wars, in which their ſovereign has been engaged during this century; being from their childhood trained up to military exerciſes.

CHAP. XIII. Climate, Productions, &c. of Nice.

Nice ſo much celebrated in this country for the ſalubrity of its air, extends about 80 miles in length, but in ſome places not more than 30 in breadth. It contains ſeveral ſmall towns and villages, all of which (the capital excepted) are ſituated among mountains; the moſt extenſive plain in the whole country being in the neighbourhood of the town of Nice. The length of it does not exceed two miles, nor is the breadth in any part above one. It is bounded by the Mediterranean on the ſouth. From the ſea-ſhore, the maritime Alps begin with hills of a gentle aſcent, riſing into mountains that form a ſweep or amphitheatre, ending at Montalban, which overhangs the town of Villa-Franca, divided from Nice by a ſingle mountain, on the top of which there is a ſmall ſort, called the Caſtle of Montalban. On the weſt ſide of this mountain, and in the eaſt⯑ern extremity of the amphitheatre, ſtands the city [89] of Nice, wedged in between a ſteep rock and the little river Paglion, which deſcends from the moun⯑tains, and waſhing the town-wall on the weſt ſide, falls into the ſea after having filled ſome canals for the uſe of the inhabitants. The channel of it is very broad, but generally dry in many places; the water (as in the Var, which falls into the ſea nearer Antibes) dividing itſelf into ſeveral ſmall ſtreams. The Paglion, being fed by melted ſnow and rains in the mountains, is quite dry in ſummer; but it is ſometimes ſwelled by ſudden rains to a very formid⯑able torrent. This was the caſe in the year 1744, when the French and Spaniſh armies attacked 18 Piedmonteſe battalions, which were poſted on the ſide of Montalban. The aſſailants were repulſed with the loſs of four thouſand men, ſome hundreds of whom periſhed in repaſſing the Paglion, which had ſwelled to a ſurpriſing degree during the battle, in conſequence of a heavy continued rain. This rain was of great ſervice to the Piedmonteſe, as it prevented one half of the enemy from paſſing the river to ſuſtain the other.

The city of Nice is built in the form of an irre⯑gular iſoſceles triangle, the baſe of which fronts the ſea. It is altogether indefencible, and therefore without fortifications; in the eaſt it is over-hung by a rock, on which we ſee the ruins of an old caſtle, [90] which, before the invention of artillery, was deemed impregnable. It was taken and diſmantled by Ma⯑reſchal Catinat, in the time of Victor Amadaeus, the father of his Sardinian majeſty. It was afterwards finally demoliſhed by the duke of Berwick, towards the latter end of queen Ann's war. To repair this caſtle would be an unneceſſary expence, as it is com⯑manded by Montalban and ſeveral other eminences.

This little town, ſituated in the bay of Antibes, is almoſt equidiſtant from Marſeilles, Turin, and Genoa; the firſt and laſt being about 30 leagues from hence by ſea, and the capital of Piedmont at the ſame diſtance to the northward over the moun⯑tains. It contains, though hardly a mile in circum⯑ference, 12,000 inhabitants. The ſtreets are nar⯑row; the houſes are built with ſtone, and the win⯑dows, in general, are fitted with paper inſtead of glaſs. This expedient would not anſwer in a coun⯑try ſubject to rain and ſtorms, but here where there is very little of either, the paper lozenges anſwer tolerably well. The Bourgeois, however, begin to have their houſes ſaſhed with glaſs. From a regiſ⯑ter of the weather, kept during a reſidence of 18 months in this city, ſays Smollett, there is leſs rain and wind than in any other part of the world that I know; and, ſuch is the ſerenity of the air, that nothing is to be ſeen over head for ſeveral months [91] together, but a charming blue expanſe, without cloud or ſpeck. Whatever clouds may be formed by evaporation from the ſea, they ſeldom or never hover over this ſmall territory; but, in all probabi⯑lity, are attracted by the mountains that ſurround it, and there fall in rain or ſnow; as for thoſe that gather from other quarters, I ſuppoſe their progreſs hitherward is obſtructed by thoſe very Alps which riſe one over another, to an extent of many leagues. This air being dry, pure, heavy, and elaſtic, muſt be agreeable to the conſtitution of thoſe who labour under diſorders ariſing from weak nerves, obſtructed perſpiration, relaxed fibres, a vicidity of lymph, and a languid circulation. The air of Nice is ſo dry, that in ſummer, and even in winter (except in wet weather) the evening, and indeed the whole night may be paſſed ſub dio, without feeling the leaſt dew or moiſture; and as for fogs, they are never ſeen in this diſtrict. In ſummer, the air is cooled by a regular ſea-breeze blowing from the eaſt, like that of the Weſt Indies. It begins in the forenoon, and increaſes with the heat of the day. It dies away about ſix or ſeven, and is immediately ſucceeded by an agreeable land-breeze from the mountains. The ſea-breeze from the eaſtward, however, is not ſo conſtant here, as in the Weſt In⯑dies between the tropics, becauſe the ſun, which produces it, is not ſo powerful. This country lies [92] nearer the region of variable winds, and is ſur⯑rounded by mountains, capes, and ſtraits, which often influence the conſtitution and current of air. About the winter ſolſtice, the people of Nice expect wind and rain, which generally laſts, with intervals, till the beginning of February: but, even during this their worſt weather, the ſun breaks out occaſion⯑ally, ſo as to enable any one to take the air every day, either on foot or horſeback, the moiſture being immediately abſorbed by the earth, which is natu⯑rally dry. The heavy rains in this country gene⯑rally come with a ſouth-weſt wind, which was the creberque procellis Africus of the ancients. It is here called Lebeche, a corruption of Lybicus; it ge⯑nerally blows high for a day or two, and rolls the Mediterranean before it in huge waves, that often enter the town of Nice. It likewiſe drives before it all the clouds which had been found above the ſur⯑face of the Mediterranean. Theſe being expended in rain, fair-weather naturally enſues. There are frequent inſtances of Engliſh valetudinarians, who have paſſed the winter at Aix on the ſuppoſition, that there was little or no difference between the air and the climate of Nice; but this is a very great miſtake, which may be attended with very fatal conſequences. Aix is altogether expoſed to the north and northweſt winds, which blow as cold in Provence as on the mountains of Scotland: whereas, [93] Nice is entirely ſcreened from theſe winds by the maritime Alps, which form an amphitheatre to the land ſide around this little territory. Another in⯑conteſtible proof of the mildneſs of this climate is deduced from the oranges, lemons, citrons, roſes, narciſſuſes, July-flowers, and jonquils, which ripen and blow in the middle of winter. Preſents of car⯑nations are ſent from hence, at that ſeaſon of the year to Turin and Paris; nay, ſometimes as far as London, by the poſt. They are packed up in a wooden box, without any ſort of preparation, one preſſed upon another: the perſon who receives them cuts off a little bit of the ſtalk, and ſteeps them for two hours in vinegar and water, when they recover their full bloom and beauty. They are then placed in water bottles, in an apartment ſcreened from the ſeverities of the weather, and continue there freſh and unfaded for near a month.

Smollett, deſcribing the cultivation of the country round Nice, ſays, When ſtanding on the rampart and looking round me, I can ſcarce help thinking myſelf enchanted. The ſmall extent of country, which I ſee, is all cultivated like a garden. Indeed, the plain pre⯑ſents nothing but gardens full of green trees, loaded with oranges, lemons, citrons, and bergamots, which make a delightful appearance. If examined more narrowly, there will be ſeen plantations of [94] green peas, ready to be gathered; all ſorts of ſallet⯑ing, and pot-herbs in perfection; plats of roſes, car⯑nations, ranunculuſes, anemonies, and daffodils, blowing in full glory, with ſuch beauty, vigour, and perfume, as no flower in England ever exhibited.

Amidſt the plantations in this neighbourhood ap⯑pear a vaſt number of baſtides or country houſes, which make a dazzling ſhow. They are all built ſquare; and, being whitened with lime or plaiſter, contribute greatly to the richneſs of the view. The hills are ſhaded to the tops with olive-trees, which are always green; and thoſe hills are over-topped with more diſtant mountains covered with ſnow.

Nothing can be more unpromiſing, however, than the natural ſoil of this territory, except in a very few narrow bottoms, where there is a ſtiff clay, which, when carefully watered, yields tolerable paſ⯑turage. In every other part the ſoil conſiſts of a light ſand, mingled with pebbles, which ſerves well enough for the culture of vines and olives; but the ground laid out for kitchen herbs, as well as for other fruits, muſt be manured with care and atten⯑tion. They have no black cattle to afford ſuch compoſt as is uſed in England. The dung of mules and aſſes, their only beaſts of burthen, is of very little value for this purpoſe, and the natural [95] ſterility of their ground requires ſomething highly impregnated with nitre and vegetable ſalts. They are obliged, therefore, to have recourſe to pigeons dung and ordure. Every peaſant opens, at one corner of his wall, a public-houſe of office for the reception of paſſengers; and, in the town of Nice, every te⯑nement is provided with one of theſe receptacles, the contents of which are carefully preſerved for ſale. The peaſant comes with his aſſes and caſks to carry it off before day, and pays for it according to its quality. The jakes of a proteſtant family, who eat gras every day, bear a much higher price than the privy of a good catholic, who lives maigre one half of the year. The vaults belonging to the con⯑vent of Minims, are not worth emptying.

The ground here is not delved with ſpades, as in England, but laboured with a broad ſharp hough, with a horizontal handle; and the climate is ſo hot and dry in the ſummer, that the plants muſt be wa⯑tered every morning and evening, eſpecially where it is not ſhaded by trees. It is ſurpriſing to ſee in what manner the productions of the earth are crouded together. Olive and other fruit-trees are planted in rows very cloſe to each other. Theſe are connected by vines, and the interſtice between the roots are filled with corn. The gardens, that ſupply the town with ſallad and pot-herbs, lie all on [96] the ſide of Provence by the highway. They are ſurrounded with high ſtone-walls, or ditches planted with a kind of cane or large reed, which anſwers many purpoſes in this country. The leaves of it afford ſuſtenance to the aſſes, and the canes not only ſerve as fences to the incloſures; but are uſed to prop the vines and peas: they are further formed into arbours, and wore as walking ſticks. All theſe gardens are watered by little rills that come from the mountains, particularly by the ſmall branches of the two ſources of the Var and the Paglion.

In the neighbourhood of Nice they raiſe a con⯑ſiderable quantity of hemp, which is remarkably large and ſtrong. Part of this, when dreſſed, is exported to other countries, and part is manufac⯑tured into cordage. However profitable it may be to the grower, it is certainly a great nuiſance in the ſummer. When taken, out of the pits, where it has been put to rot, the ſtench it raiſes is inſup⯑portable, and muſt undoubtedly be prejudicial to the conſtitution.

There is ſuch a want of land in this neighbour⯑hood that terraces are built over one another with looſe ſtones, on the faces of bare rocks, and theſe [97] being covered with earth and manured, are planted with olives, vines, and corn.

Notwithſtanding the ſmall extent of this terri⯑tory, there are ſome pleaſant meadows in the ſkirts of Nice, that produce excellent clover; and the corn, which is ſown in the open fields, grows to a ſurpriſing height. Rye may be ſeen here ſeven or eight feet high. All vegetables have a wonderful growth in this climate. Beſides wheat, rye, barley, and oats, this country produces a good deal of In⯑dian corn. The meal of this grain goes by the name of polenta, and make excellent haſty pudding, being very nouriſhing, and counted an admirable pectoral. The pods and ſtalks are uſed for fuel; and the leaves are much preferable to common ſtraw, for making paillaſſes. Myrtle, ſweet-briar, ſweet-marjoram, ſage, thyme, lavender, roſemary, with many other aromatic herbs and flowers, which, with us, require the moſt careful cultivation, are here found wild in the mountains.

The markets at Nice are well ſupplied. In au⯑tumn and winter, the ſeaſons for game, hares, par⯑tridges, quails, wild pigeons, woodcocks, ſnipes, thruſhes, beccaficas, and ortolans, are met with in great plenty. The wild boar is ſometimes found in the mountains: it has a delicious taſte, not unlike that [98] of the wild hog, in Jamaica, when meagre the head only is preſented at tables. Pheaſants are very ſcarce. As for the heath game, ſays Smollett, I never ſaw but one cock, which my ſervant bought in the market, and brought home; but the com⯑mandants cook came into my kitchen, and carried it off, after it was half plucked, ſaying his maſter had company to dinner. The hares are large, plump, and juicy; the partridges generally of the red ſort, large as pullets, and of a good flavour; there are alſo ſome grey partridges in the moun⯑tains, and another ſort of a white colour, that weigh four or five pounds each. Beccaficas are ſmaller than ſparrows, and generally eaten half raw. The ortolans are kept in cages, and crammed till they die of fat, and then eaten as dainties. The thruſh is preſented with the trail, becauſe the bird ſeeds on olives. They may as well eat the trail of a ſheep, becauſe it feeds on the aromatic herbs of the mountains.

Nice is not without a variety of fiſh. Here are ſometimes mullets both red and grey. One of the beſt fiſh in this country is called le loup, about two or three pounds in weight, white, firm, and well flavoured. Another no way inferior to it is the mouſtel, by ſome thought to be the muſtela of the ancients or ſea lam⯑prey. There is alſo abundance of the $oepie or cut⯑tle-fiſh, [99] of which the people in this country make a delicate ragout; as alſo of the polype de mer, which is an ugly animal, with long feelers, like tails, which they often wind about the legs of the fiſhermen. They are ſtewed with onions, and eat ſomething like cow-heel.

Among the fiſh of this country there is a very ugly animal, of the eel ſpecies, which might paſs for a ſerpent. The Italians call it murena, but whe⯑ther it is the fiſh which had the ſame name among the ancient Romans is not ſo eaſy to determine. The ancient murena were counted a great delicacy, and kept in ponds for extraordinary occaſions. Ju⯑lius Caeſar borrowed 6000 for one entertainment. The ſword-fiſh is alſo much eſteemed at Nice, and called l'Empereur, about ſix or ſeven feet long; it is as white as the fineſt veal, and extremely delicate. They are very ſcarce, and when taken are generally concealed, becauſe the head belongs to the Com⯑mandant, who has likewiſe the privilege of buying the beſt fiſh at a very low price; for which reaſon the choice pieces are concealed by the fiſhermen, and ſent privately to Piedmont or Genoa. Sea turtle are alſo often found at ſea, by the mariners, in theſe latitudes, but they are not the green ſort, ſo much in requeſt among the City Aldermen. All the Mediterranean turtle are of the kind called logger-head, [100] which in the Weſt Indies are eaten by none but hungry ſeamen, negroes, and the loweſt claſs of people. One of theſe, weighing about 200lb. ſays Smollett, was brought on ſhore by the fiſhermen of Nice, who found it floating, aſleep, on the ſurface of the ſea. The whole town was alarmed at the fight of ſuch a monſter, the nature of which they could not comprehend. However, the Monks called Minims, of St. Francis's order, guided by an unerring inſtinct, marked it as their prey, and ſur⯑rounded it accordingly. The Friars of other con⯑vents, not quite ſo hungry as thoſe of the order of St. Francis, crowding down to the beach, declared it ſhould not be eaten, dropped hints of a poſſibility it might be ſomething preternatural and diabolical, and even propoſed exorciſms and emerſions with holy water. The populace were divided, accord⯑ing to their attachment to this or that convent; a mighty clamour aroſe; and the Police, to remove the cauſe of their contention, ordered the tortoiſe to be re-committed to the waves; a ſentence which the Franciſians ſaw executed, not without ſighs and lamentations.

But the chief fiſheries of this coaſt are of the ſar⯑dines, anchovies and tunnies. Theſe are taken in ſmall quantities all the year, but ſpring and ſummer are the ſeaſons when they moſtly abound. In June and [101] July a fleet of about 50 fiſhing-boats put to ſea, every evening, about eight o'clock, and catch an⯑chovies in immenſe quantities. One ſmall boat ſometimes takes in one night 600 weight. Ancho⯑vies, beſide their making a conſiderable article in the commerce of Nice, are a great reſource in all families. The nobleſſe and bourgeois ſup on ſal⯑lad and anchovies, which are eaten on all their meagre days. The fiſhermen and mariners, all along this coaſt, have ſcarce any other food but dry bread, with a few pickled anchovies; and, when the fiſh is eaten, they rub their cruſts with the brine. No⯑thing can be more delicate than freſh anchovies fried in oil. It is needleſs to mention that the ſar⯑dines and anchovies are caught in nets, ſalted, bar⯑relled, and exported into all the different kingdoms and ſtates of Europe. The tunny-fiſh generally runs from 50 to 100 weight, but ſome of them are much larger. As ſoon as taken they are gutted, boiled, and cut in ſlices. The guts and head afford oil; the ſlices are partly dried, to be eaten occaſionally with oil and vinegar, or barrelled up in oil to be export⯑ed. It is counted a delicacy in Italy and Piedmont, and taſtes not unlike ſturgeon. The famous pickle of the ancients, called garum, was made of the gills and blood of the tunny or thynnus.

[102]The vintage begins in September. The grapes being choſen and carefully picked, are put into a large vat, where they are preſſed by a man's naked feet, and the juices drawn off by a cock below. When no more is procured by this operation, the bruiſed grapes are put into the preſs, and yield ſtill more liquor. The juice obtained by this double preſſure being put in caſks, with their bungs open, begins to ferment, and diſcharge its impurities at the openings. The waſte occaſioned by this diſ⯑charge is conſtantly ſupplied with freſh wine, ſo that the caſks are always full. The fermentation continues for 12, 15, or 20 days, according to the ſtrength and vigour of the grape. In about a month the wine is ſit for drinking. When the grapes are of a bad, meagre kind, the wine-dealers mix the juice with pigeon's dung, or quick lime, in order to give it a ſpirit which nature hath denied.

The proceſs for making oil is equally ſimple. The beſt olives are thoſe that grow wild, but the quantity of them is very inconſiderable. Olives begin to ripen and drop in the beginning of No⯑vember, but ſome remain on the trees till February, and even till April, and theſe are counted the moſt va⯑luable. When the olives are gathered, they muſt be manufactured immediately, before they fade and grow wrinkled, otherwiſe they will produce bad oil.— [103] They are firſt of all ground into a paſte, by a mill ſtone, ſet edge-ways in a circular ſtone trough, and turned by water. This paſte is put into circular caſes, made of graſs woven, having a round hole at top and bottom; when filled, they reſemble in ſhape our Cheſhire cheeſes. A number of theſe, placed one upon another, are put in a preſs, and being ſqueezed, the oil, with all its impurities, runs into a receptacle below, fixed in the ground; from hence it is ladled into a wooden vat, half filled with water. The ſordes or dirt falls to the bottom. The oil ſwims on top, and, being ſkimmed off, is bar⯑relled in ſmall oblong caſks. What remains in the vat is thrown into a large ſtone ciſtern with water, and, after being often ſtirred, and ſtanding 12 or 14 days, yields a coarſe oil, uſed for lamps and ma⯑nufactures. The very fineſt, called virgin-oil, is made chiefly of green olives, and ſold at a very high price, becauſe a great quantity is required to pro⯑duce a very little oil.

CHAP. XIV. People, Character, Cuſtoms, &c.

NICE abounds with nobleſſe. Of theſe, three or four families are really reſpectable, the reſt are novi homines, ſprung from bourgeoiſe, who have ſaved a little money by their occupations, and raiſed themſelves to the rank of nobleſſe by purchaſe. A man may buy a Marquiſate in this country, as in Piedmont, for 3 or 400l. but letters of nobleſſe are purchaſed for 30 or 40 guineas. In Savoy, ſays Smollett, there are 600 families of nobility, the greater part of which have not above 100 crowns a year to ſupport their dignity. In the mountains of Piedmont, and even in this county of Nice, there are repreſentatives of very ancient and noble fa⯑milies reduced to the condition of common pea⯑ſants; but they ſtill retain the ancient pride of their houſes, and boaſt of the noble blood that runs in their veins. A gentleman travelling through the mountains, was obliged to paſs the night in a cot⯑tage [105] of one of theſe ruſticated nobles, who called to his ſon in the evening 'Chevalier, as tu donné a manger aux cochons?' This, however, is not the caſe with the nobleſſe of Nice. Two or three of them have about 4 or 500 a year, the reſt may have about 100 piſtoles, ariſing from the ſilk, oil, wine, and oranges, produced in their ſmall plantations. Some few of theſe are well built, commodious, and agreeably ſituated. There is a public converſazione every evening at the Commandant's houſe. In car⯑nival time there is alſo a ball twice or thrice a week. At this aſſembly every perſon may dance without diſtinction in maſquerades, but after dancing they are obliged to unmaſk, and, if burgeois, to retire. No individual can give a ball without permiſſion of the Commandant, and then his houſe is open to all maſques, without diſtinction.

The poverty of the people of this country, as well as of the South of France, may be conjectured from the appearance of their domeſtic animals. The draught horſes, mules, and aſſes of the peaſants are ſo meagre as to excite compaſſion. There is not a dog to be ſeen in tolerable caſe; and the cats are ſo many emblems of famine, frightfully thin and dangerouſly rapacious. This great poverty of the people, ſays Smollett, is owing to their religion. Half of their time is loſt in obſerving the great [106] number of feſtivals, and half of their ſubſtance given to mendicant friars. But if the church oc⯑caſions their indigence, it likewiſe, in ſome meaſure, alleviates the horrors of it, by amuſing them with ſhows, proceſſions, and even thoſe very feaſts which afford a receſs from labour, in a country where the climate invites them to idleneſs. If the peaſants in the neighbourhood of any chaple, dedicated to a ſaint, have a mind to make a holiday, in other words, a fair; they apply to the Commandant of Nice for a licence which coſts them a crown. This being obtained, they aſſemble after ſervice, men and women, in their beſt apparel, and dance to the muſic of fiddles, and drums. There are huckſters ſtands, with pedlary ware, and knick-knacks for preſents, cakes and bread, liqueurs and wine; and thither generally reſort all the company of Nice.

In ſpeaking of their religious inſtitutions we can⯑not help obſerving, that the ancient Romans were ſtill more ſuperſtitious than the modern Italians, and that the number of their religious feaſts, faſts, and holidays, were even greater than thoſe of the Chriſtian church at Rome. The vaſt variety of their deities, ſaid to amount to 30,000, with their re⯑ſpective rights of adoration, could not fail to intro⯑duce ſuch a number of ceremonies, ſhews, ſacri⯑fices, luſtrations, and public proceſſions, as muſt [107] have employed the people almoſt conſtantly from one end of the year to the other. This continual diſſipation muſt have been a great enemy to in⯑duſtry; and the people muſt therefore conſequently have been idle and effeminate. It perhaps would be no difficult matter to prove that there is very little difference, in point of character, between the ancient and modern inhabitants of Rome, and that the great figure, which this empire formerly made, was not ſo much owing to the intrinſic virtue of its citizens, as to the barbariſm, ignorance, and im⯑becility of the nations they ſubdued; and if the moſt fortunate generals of the Roman common⯑wealth were again placed at the head of the armies they once commanded, inſtead of extending their conqueſts over all Europe and Aſia, I am of opi⯑nion, ſays Smollett, they would hardly be able to ſubdue and retain, under their dominion, all the petty republics that ſubſiſt in Italy.

How they live in their families, ſays Smollett, I do not chuſe to enquire, but in public, Madame ap⯑pears in her robe of gold, or ſilver ſtuff, with her powder and friſure, her perfumes, her paint, and her patches; while Monſieur le Comte ſtruts about in his lace and embroidery. Rouge and fard are more peculiarly neceſſary in this country, where the complexion and ſkin are ſwarthy and yellow. Moſt [108] of the females are likewiſe pot-bellied; a circum⯑ſtance owing perhaps to the great quantity of vegetable traſh they eat. All the horſes, mules, aſſes, and cattle, which feed upon graſs have the ſame diſtention. This kind of food produces ſuch acid juices in the ſtomach, as excite a perpetual ſenſe of hunger. I have been often amazed at the voracious appetites of theſe people. But it muſt not be expected, ſays Smollett, that I ſhould deſcribe the tables and hoſ⯑pitality of the Niſſard gentry. The Conſul, who is a very honeſt man, told me he had lived 34 years in the country, without having once eat or drank in any of their houſes.

The greateſt fault I find with the fruits of this climate, which, with vegetables and fiſh, conſtitute the principal food of the inhabitants, is that they are two ſweet and luſcious, and want that agreeable acid ſo cooling and refreſhing in a hot country. Nature, however, has not neglected to provide ſome agreeable vegetable juices to cool the human body. During the whole ſummer, there is plenty of muſk melons. I can buy one, as large as my head, ſays Smollett, for the value of an Engliſh penny; but one of the beſt and largeſt, weighing about 10 or 12 pounds, coſts about eight-pence. From An⯑tibes and Sardinia, is brought another kind, called, water-melons, well known in Jamaica, and ſome of [109] our other colonies. Thoſe from Antibes, are about the ſize of an ordinary bomb-ſhell; but the Sar⯑dinian and Jamaica water-melons are four times as large. The ſkin is green, ſmooth, and thin. The inſide is a purple pulp, ſtudded with broad, flat, black ſeeds, and impregnated with a juice the moſt cool, delicate, and refreſhing, that well can be conceived. One would imagine the pulp itſelf diſſolved in the ſtomach; for a perſon may eat of it, until he is filled up to the tongue, without feeling the leaſt inconvenience. It is ſo friendly to the conſtitution, that in ardent fevers it is drank as the beſt emulſion. At Genoa, Florence, and Rome, it is ſold in the ſtreets, ready cut in ſlices; and the porters, ſweating under their burthens, buy and eat them as they paſs. A London porter quenches his thirſt with a draught of ſtrong beer: a porter of Rome or Naples, refreſhes himſelf with a ſlice of water-melon, or a glaſs of iced water. The one coſts two-pence, and the other half a far⯑thing; which ever of them is moſt effectual, the men are equally pleaſed. It is commonly remarked, that beer ſtrengthens as well as refreſhes. But the porters of Conſtantinople, who never drink any thing ſtronger than water, and eat very little animal food, will lift and carry heavier burdens, than any other porters in the known world. If we may believe the moſt reſpectable travellers, a Turk [110] will carry a load of 700 weight, which is more than any Engliſh porter ever attempted to raiſe.

Among the other refreſhments of theſe warm coun⯑tries, are the Sorbettes Soldin coffee-houſes, or places of public reſort. Theſe are iced froth, made with juice of oranges, apricots, or peaches; very agree⯑able to the palate, and ſo extremely cold, that a ſtranger is afraid to ſwallow them in this hot coun⯑cry, until, from information and experience, he finds they may be taken in moderation, without any bad conſequence.

The people here are not ſo nice as the Engliſh in the management of their wine. It is kept in fla⯑cons, or large flaſks, without corks, having a little oil at top, and not deemed the worſe for having been opened a day or two before; and they expoſe it to the hot ſun and all kinds of weather without heſitation. Certain it is, that this treatment has little or no effect upon its taſte, flavour, and tranſ⯑parency.

The houſes are built of a ragged ſtone, dug from the mountains, and the interſtices are filled with rubble, ſo that the walls would appear very ugly if they were not covered with plaiſter, which has a [111] very good effect. They generally conſiſt of three ſtories, and are covered with tiles. The apartments of the better ſort, are large and lofty, the floors paved with brick, the roof covered with a thick coat of ſtucco, and the walls white-waſhed. People of diſ⯑tinction hang their chambers with damaſk, ſtriped ſilk, painted cloths, tapeſtry, or printed linens. All the doors, as well as the windows, conſiſt of fold⯑ing leaves. As there is no wainſcot in the rooms, which are divided by ſtone partitions, and the floors and ceilings are covered with brick and ſtucco, fires are of leſs dreadful conſequences than in our country. The houſes in general, have no chimnies, but in the kitchens; and many people, even of con⯑dition, have no fire in their chambers during the whole winter. When the weather happens to be a little colder than ordinary, they warm their apart⯑ments with a braſiere of charcoal: the beds com⯑monly uſed in this place, and all over Italy, conſiſt of a paillaſſe, with one or two mattraſſes laid upon planks, ſupported by two wooden benches. Inſtead of curtains, there is a couziniere, or moſquito-net, made of a kind of gauze, that opens and contracts occaſionally, and incloſes the bed: perſons of condi⯑tion, $word$ have bedſteads and curtains; but theſ$ $span$

[112]Though Nice itſelf retains few marks of ancient ſplendor, there are conſiderable marks of antiquity in its neighbourhood. About two ſhort miles from the town, upon the ſummit of a pretty high hill, we find the ruins of the ancient city of Cemenelion, now called Cimia, once the metropolis of the mari⯑time Alps, and the ſeat of the Roman Preſident. With reſpect to ſituation nothing could be more agreeable or ſalubrious. It ſtood upon the gentle aſcent and ſummit of a hill, fronting the Mediter⯑ranean, from the ſhore of which it is diſtant about half a league; and on the other ſide, it overlooked a bottom, or narrow vale, through which the Pag⯑lion, anciently called Paulo, runs towards the walls of Nice. It was inhabited by a people whom Ptolemy and Pliny call the Vedantic, but theſe were undoubtedly mixed with a Roman colony, as ap⯑pears by the monuments ſtill remaining; which are the ruins of an amphitheatre, a temple of Apol⯑lo, baths, aqueducts, ſepulchral and other ſtones with inſcriptions, and a great number of medals, which have been found by accident in digging and labouring the vineyards and corn fields, which cover the ground where the city ſtood.

The amphitheatre is but very ſmall compared to that of Nismes. The arena is ploughed up, and bears corn; ſome of the ſeats remain, and part of [113] two oppoſite porticos; but all the columns, and the external facade, are taken away. About 100 paces from the amphitheatre ſtood an ancient temple, ſuppoſed to have been dedicated to Apollo. The part called the Baſilica, and about one half of the cella ſanctior remain. In the latter chamber, ſays Smollett, I found a lean cow, a he-goat, and a jack⯑aſs; the very ſame conjunction of animals I had ſeen drawing a plough in Burgundy.

CHAP. XV. Commerce, Government, &c.

THE chief commerce of this place is a contraband traffic, carried on to the diſadvantage of France. A great quantity of merchandiſe is brought here every week by mules from Turin, and other parts of Piedmont, and afterwards conveyed to the other ſide of the Var, either by land or by water. The mules of Piedmont are exceeding ſtrong and hardy. One of them will carry a burthen of near [114] 600 weight. They are eaſily nouriſhed, and require no other reſpite from their labour but the night's re⯑poſe. They are the only carriage that can be uſed in croſſing the mountains, being very ſure footed; and it is obſerved, that in chuſing their ſteps, they always march upon the brink of the precipice. If they are not permitted to take their own way, the rider is in danger of loſing his life, for they are obſtinate even to deſperation. It is very dangerous to meet theſe animals on horſeback; they have ſuch an aver⯑ſion to horſes that they will attack them with incre⯑dible fury, ſo as even to tear them and their riders in pieces; and the beſt method for avoiding this fate is, to clap ſpurs to one's horſe, and ſeek ſafety in flight. They always give ſufficient warning, by raiſ⯑ing a hidious braying, as ſoon as they perceive a horſe at a diſtance.

Some very feaſible ſchemes for improving the commerce of Nice have been preſented to the miniſ⯑try of Turin, but hitherto without ſucceſs. The Engliſh import annually between 2 and 3000 bales of raw ſilk, the growth of Piedmont; and this is im⯑ported either from Genoa or Leghorn. Fruit and oil are likewiſe ſent over in great quantities from the neighbouring places, there not being ſufficient depth of water for ſhips of any burthen to approach Nice; the harbour likewiſe wants to be made more com⯑modious [115] and ſecure. There is an excellent harbour however, it ſeems, at Villa Franca, not more than a mile and a half from that of Nice; but the great objection to the improvement of commerce at Nice, according to Smollett, is the want of money, induſtry, and character. The natives themſelves are, in ge⯑neral, ſuch dirty knaves, that no foreigners will truſt them in the way of trade. They have been known to fill their oil-caſks half full of water, and their anchovy barrels with ſtinking heads of that fiſh, in order to cheat their correſpondents.

The ſhopkeepers of this place are generally poor, greedy, and over-reaching. Many of them are bankrupts of Marſeilles, Genoa, and other countries who have fled from their creditors to Nice; which, being a free port, affords an aſylum to foreign cheats, and ſharpers of every denomination. Here is like⯑wiſe a pretty conſiderable number of Jews, who live in a ſtreet appropriated for them, which is ſhut up every night. They act as brokers, but are generally poor, and deal in frippery, old cloaths, remnants, and houſhold-furniture.

There is another branch of commerce engroſſed by the Monks. Some convents, of which there are many in this town, have ſuch a number of maſſes. bequeathed them, that they find it impoſſible to [116] execute the will of the donors. In this caſe they agree by the lump with the Friars of poorer convents, who ſay the maſſes for leſs money than has been al⯑lowed by the defunct, and their employers pocket the difference; for example, ſays Smollett, my grand⯑father bequeaths a ſum of money to a certain convent, to have ſuch a number of maſſes ſaid for the repoſe of his ſoul, at ten ſols each; and this convent, not having time to perform them, bargains with the Friars of another to ſay them for ſix ſols each, ſo that they gain four ſols upon every maſs; for it matters not to the ſoul of the deceaſed where they are ſaid, ſo they be properly authenticated.— A poor gentleman of Nice, (adds the above Writer) who piques himſelf much on the noble blood that runs in his veins, though he has not a whole pair of breeches to wear, complained to me, that his great-grandmother had founded a perpetual maſs for the repoſe of her own ſoul, at the rate of 15 ſols, (nine⯑pence Engliſh) a-day; which indeed was all that now remained of the family eſtate. He ſaid, what made the hardſhip greater on him, ſhe had been dead above 50 years, and in all probability her ſoul had got out of purgatory long ago, therefore the continuance of the maſs was an unneceſſary expence. I told him, I thought, in ſuch a caſe, the defunct ſhould appear before a Civil Magiſtrate, and make affidavit of her being at peace, for the advantage of [117] the family. After muſing ſome time, he ſhrugged up his ſhoulders and ſaid, where the intereſt of the church was at ſtake, he did not believe a ſpirit's declaration would be held legal evidence." In ſome parts of France the curé of the pariſh, on All Souls' Day, which is called Jours des Morts, ſays a prayer, for two ſols, at every grave in the bu⯑rying-ground, for the releaſe of the ſoul whoſe body is there interred.

The citizens of Nice are lazy, needy, very awk⯑ward, and void of all ingenuity. The price of their labour is very near as high as at London or Paris. The loweſt claſs of people have all the outward ſigns of extreme miſery. They are all diminutive, mea⯑gre, withered, dirty, and half naked; in their com⯑plexions not barely ſwarthy, but black as Moors. They are, many of them, very hard favoured, and their women in general have the coarſeſt features imagina⯑ble; it muſt be owned, however, they have the fineſt teeth in the world. They are remarkably re⯑ſpectful and ſubmiſſive to their ſuperiors.

The populace of Nice are very quiet and orderly, little addicted to drunkenneſs, riots are never heard of, and murder and robbery are altogether un⯑known. A man may walk alone over the county of Nice, at midnight, without danger of in⯑ſult. [118] The police is well regulated. No one is per⯑mitted to wear a piſtol or dagger, on pain of being ſent on board the gallies. In Nice the common people retire to their lodgings at eight o'clock in winter, and nine in ſummer. Every perſon found in the ſtreets after theſe hours, is apprehended by the patrole, and if he cannot give a good account of himſelf is ſent to priſon. At nine in winter, and ten in ſummer, the curfew bell is rung, warning people to put out their lights and go to bed. This is a very neceſſary precaution in towns liable to conflagra⯑tions, but of ſmall uſe in Nice, where there is little combuſtible in the houſes.

The puniſhments inflicted upon malefactors at Nice are, hanging for capital crimes; ſlavery on board the gallies, for a limited term or for life, ac⯑cording to the nature of the tranſgreſſion; flaggella⯑tion and the ſtrappado. This laſt puniſhment is per⯑formed by hoiſting up the criminal, with his hands tied behind his back, on a pully, about two ſtories high; from whence the rope being ſuddenly ſlack⯑ened, he falls to within a yard or two of the ground, where he is ſtopped with a violent ſhock, ariſing from the weight of his body, and the velocity of his deſcent, which generally diſlocates his ſhoulders with incredible pain. This dreadful execution is ſometimes repeated in a few minutes on the ſame de⯑linquent, [119] ſo that the very ligaments are torn from his joints, and his arms rendered uſeleſs for life.

The government of Nice is in the hands of a ſe⯑nate, conſiſting of a Preſident, and a certain number of Senators, who are diſtinguiſhed by their purple robes, and other enſigns of authority. They admi⯑niſter juſtice, having the power of life and death, not only through the whole county of Nice, but cauſes are evoked from Onelia, and ſome other places in the neighbourhood, to their tribunal, which is the dernier reſort, from whence there is no appeal. The Commandant, however, by virtue of his mili⯑tary power, and unreſtrained authority, takes upon him to puniſh individuals by impriſonment, corporal pains, and baniſhment, without conſulting the ſenate, or indeed obſerving any form of trial. The only re⯑dreſs againſt unjuſt exerciſe of this abſolute power is, by complaint to the King.

The King is ſaid to draw from Nice, 100,000 li⯑vres annually, ariſing from a free gift, amounting to 700l. in lieu of the trille, from which this country is exempted; an inconſiderable duty upon wine, and and the droits de poſt. Theſe laſt conſiſt of anchor⯑age, paid by all veſſels in proportion to their ton⯑nage, when they enter the harbour of Nice and Villa Franca. Beſides all foreign veſſels under a ſtipulated [120] burthen paſſing between the iſland of Sardinia and this coaſt, are obliged in going to the eaſtward, to enter and pay a certain ſtipulated impoſition, on pain of being taken and made prizes of. The Prince of Monaco exacts a talliage of the ſame kind; and both he and the King of Sardinia maintain armed cruizers to aſſiſt this prerogative: from which, however, the Engliſh and French are exempted by treaty, in con⯑ſequence of a ſum of money having been paid at once. In all probability, it was originally given for maintaining lights on the coaſt, like the toll paid for paſſing the ſound in the Baltic. The fanal, or lan⯑thorn, to the eaſtward of Villa Franca, is kept in good repair, and ſtill lighted in the winter. The toll, however, is very troubleſome to feluccas, and other ſmall craft, who are very much retarded, and often loſe the benefit of a fair wind, by being obliged to run in ſhore, and enter theſe harbours.

The whole county of Nice is ſaid to yield the King half a million of livres, or about 25000 pounds ſterling, excluſive of the revenue he draws from the city. If we may believe the politicians of Nice, the King of Sardinia's revenues which he draws from Nice, exceed the double of this ſum. It muſt be owned, that there is no country in Chriſtendom, leſs taxed, than Nice; and as the ſoil produces the neceſſaries of life, the inhabitants, with a little in⯑duſtry, [121] might renew the golden age in this happy climate. In the midſt of the paſtoral advantages to be found in it, the peaſants are poor and miſerable; they have no ſtock to begin the world with, nor have they any leaſes of the lands they cultivate, but entirely depend from year to year on the plea⯑ſure of the arbitrary land-holder; after all, the ground is too ſcanty for the number of families crowded on it.

With reſpect to the ſtate of the arts and ſciences of Nice, there is, in this particular, almoſt a total blank. This country ſeems at preſent conſecrated to dulneſs and ſuperſtition. It is very ſurpriſing to ſee a people, eſtabliſhed between two enlightened na⯑tions, ſo devoid of taſte and literature. Here are no tolerable pictures, buſts, ſtatues, nor edifices, the very ornaments of the churches are wretchedly con⯑ceived, and worſe executed. They have no public nor private libraries that afford any thing worth pe⯑ruſing. There is not ſo much as a ſingle bookſeller in Nice. Though they value themſelves on being natives of Italy, they are unacquainted with muſic. The few that play upon any inſtruments, attend only to the execution. They have no genius nor taſte, nor any knowledge of harmony and compoſition. Among the French, a Niſſard piques himſelf on being pro⯑vincial; but in Florence, Milan, or Rome, he claims [122] the honour of being a native of Italy. The people of con⯑dition, ſpeak both languages equally well, or rather equally ill; for they uſe a low uncouth phraſeology. Their vernacular tongue, is what they call Patois, though in ſo calling it, they do it injuſtice. Patois, from the Latin word patavinitas, means no more than a provincial accent or dialect. It takes its name from Patavium, or Padua, the birth place of Livy, who with all his merit, as a writer, has admitted in⯑to his hiſtory ſome provincial expreſſions of his own country. The Patois, or native tongue of Nice, is no other than the ancient Provencal, from which the Italian, Spaniſh, and French languages have been formed. This is the language that roſe upon the ruins of the Latin tongue, after the irruption of the Goths, Vandals, Huns, and Burgundians, by whom the Roman empire was deſtroyed. It was ſpoken all over Italy, Spain, and the ſouthern parts of France, until the 13th century, when the Italians began to poliſh it into the language they now call their own. The Spaniards, and French likewiſe, improved it into their reſpective tongues.

MILAN.
CHAP. XVI. Climate, Lakes, &c.

THIS Duchy is bounded on the Weſt by Savoy, Piedmont, and Montferat, on the North by Switzerland; on the Eaſt by the Venetian territo⯑ries, and the Duchies of Mantua, Parma, and Pla⯑centia, and on the South by the dependencies of the republic of Genoa. Its greateſt breadth, from North to South, is 100 Engliſh miles, and its length, from Eaſt to Weſt 120 miles. Scarce any country throughout Europe is more fertile in a variety of excellent productions. Every where it is watered either by rivulets or canals; and, after the harveſts of the uſual kinds of grain, the people ſow Turkey wheat, chiefly on ac⯑count [124] of their poultry, which they have in great plenty, and very excellent. The peaſants alſo make bread of this wheat, and, when mixed with rye, it is even uſed by people in good circumſtances. It is not above a century ſince this vegetable has been introduced into theſe parts, and in the opinion of ſome, to the great diſadvantage of the country; for this ſort of grain is thought of ſuch a quality as not only to impoveriſh the land, and render it barren, but likewiſe to be prejudicial to the health, both of the farmers, who ſow and reap it, and of thoſe who eat the Maliga bread. That the cultivation of rice has done no good either to the ſoil, or the inha⯑bitants, is a matter of ſuch certainty in Piedmont, that it is abſolutely prohibited. Upon entering the Milaneſe, one meets with it in great quantities, where it is allowed, with this reſtriction; that it is not to be ſown near any town: and about three miles on this ſide Novari is a ſtone ſet up as a boundary to the ſowing of rice. The whole world does not afford a tract of land ſo well watered as the Milaneſe; and as the ditches and canals, every where divide the fields and meadows, no place can be better adapted for rice. After it is ſown, the ground is laid under water, and continues ſo till the rice be ripe; but the pernicious effects of the deficcation of ſuch a marſhy ſoil, are but too conſpicuous in the violent head-achs, vertigoes and fluxes, with which thoſe [125] perſons are ſeized, who, in ſummer, only travel along roads adjoining to the rice-grounds.

The fertility of the ſoil is ſo great, in moſt parts of the Milaneſe, as to yield two crops in a year. The corn ſowed in the autumn of the preceding year ripens in June; and this is no ſooner carried in, but the ground is a ſecond time ſown with barley, Turkey wheat, &c. which is reaped in the month of November. The paſtures are very rich, eſpe⯑cially in the diſtrict of Lodi, which is famous for the breeding of cattle. The cheeſe made in the country, improperly called Parmeſan, is uſed all over Italy, in the beſt ſoups. Here is alſo excel⯑lent wine, and all manner of vegetables, and fruit in perfection; together with a very conſiderable number of mulberry trees, for ſilk. The charms of the country are beſides heightened by three large lakes.

The Lago Magiore, or Lago di Locarno, is ſixty five Italian miles in length, and ſix in breadth in moſt places, and its depth, about the mid⯑dle, eight fathoms. Towards Switzerland, it terminates in a canal of infinite convenience for commerce. The journey to Geneva, through Sion, takes up four days, but the road is extremely bad. Near Ceſti the lake diſcharges itſelf into the river [126] Ticino, which is properly the eflux of Lago Mag⯑giore; and at its beginning, the current is ſo rapid, as with the help of a ſingle oar, to carry a boat thirty miles in three hours, but this rapidity, when the water is low, makes it dangerous. The quickneſs of paſſage on the river, is balanced by the want of diſ⯑patch on the canal, which is cut from the river to Milan, and is thirty miles in length. The boat being drawn by horſes moves ſo ſlowly that it takes up a whole day to reach Milan. However, this canal is of very great advantage to Milan, for by means of this, and the Lago Maggiore, it carries on a trade with ſeveral provinces of Germany, Swit⯑zerland, and France.

This Lake is every way environed with hills covered with vineyards, and ſummer-houſes. Above the vineyards are plantations of cheſnut-trees, the fruit of which, in the Northern part of Italy, are conſumed in ſuch quantities, that, when cheſnuts are in great plenty, the price of corn falls, eſpecially at Genoa. They continue freſh and green till Chriſt⯑mas; but the common people eat them till Eaſter. Along the banks of the lake are fine rows of trees, and walks arched with vine-branches. This fine proſpect is further heightened by large caſcades, falling from the mountains.

[127]Two leagues from Ceſti, the lake begins to widen, and preſents to view the two celebrated iſlands Iſola Madre, and Iſola Bella. Theſe two iſlands can be compared to nothing more properly, than two py⯑ramids of ſweetmeats, ornamented with green feſ⯑toons and flowers. In the garden of Iſola Bella, are ten terraſſes, and the perpendicular height of theſe, taken together, is 60 ells above the ſurface of the water. Theſe terraſſes proportionably decreaſe in their circumference towards the top of the hill. The oblong area on the ſummit, affords a moſt charming proſpect; is paved with fine ſtone, and ſurrounded with a baluſtrade. It is in length from 45 to 50 common paces, and on every ſide ſtands a range of marble ſtatues in the gigantic taſte. Round every terraſs is a pleaſant walk, and at the four angles, are large ſtatues and pyramids, placed alternately. The walls from the bottom to the top, are covered with laurel hedges, and eſpa⯑liers of orange, lemon, peach-trees, &c. The an⯑nual charge of theſe Borromean paradiſes amount to 40,000 Piedmonteſe livres: but to raiſe ſo no⯑ble a ſuperſtructure, on ſuch a foundation, and to bring theſe iſlands to their preſent incompara⯑ble beauty and magnificence, ſeems an under⯑taking beyond even the revenue of a prince to compaſs.

[128]Theſe iſlands belong to the Borromeo family; they were, no longer ago than the middle of the laſt century, only a barren rock, to which every baſket of earth, and every thing that is found there, muſt have been brought at a prodigious expence. The garden of Iſola Bella, has a ſouth aſpect, and at the two angles of its facade, are two round towers, with very lofty apartments, adorned with red and black marble. Near the towers, is an inſcription, ſigni⯑fying that Count Borromeo, by the foundation under⯑neath, and the edifices erected on theſe rugged miſhapen rocks, imparted a dignity to his leiſure, and grandeur to his amuſements, 1671.

In the palace, though not compleated, are great numbers of fine pictures, vaſes, buſts, and other curioſities. Among the paintings, the flower pieces, ſome of which are painted upon marble, cannot be ſufficiently admired. Several of the chambers are hung with portraits of the Borromeo family. The vaults, on which the palace ſtands, are conti⯑guous to the lake, and, like grottos, decorated with marble and ſhell work. The floor is a kind of Moſaic work, conſiſting of ſmall ſtones, ſo as to repreſent all ſorts of figures. Beſides this aſſem⯑blage of the beauties of art and nature, the lake, with its undulating waves, continually waſhes the entrance of the grottos, ſo that a more delightful [129] ſummer retreat, can hardly be imagined. Towards the ſouth, and cloſe behind the houſe, are five lofty cypreſs trees, of an extraordinary largeneſs, equal⯑ling the palace in height, and the ſtems are covered with a thick foliage of ever-green oaks to the very ground. In going from the houſe, towards the garden, the ſmell is immediately refreſhed with the united odors of fruit and flowers. The firſt contra eſpalier, after aſcending a few ſteps, conſiſts of burgamot, lemon, or citron trees; next to this appears a high range of orange-trees, beyond this is a lofty grotto, adorned with water-works and ſtatues: over its centre, is a unicorn, of an enor⯑mous ſize, in a ſpringing attitude, with a Cupid on his back. On both ſides there is an aſcent by ſteps to the oblong area, which terminates the ten terraſſes.

From Iſola Bella to Iſola Madre, is about half an hour's ſailing. The latter has ſeven terraſſes, which are high but ſloping, and at a conſiderable diſtance from each other, ſo that it appears to the eye to be lower than Iſola Bella, but they are of an equal height, according to the original plans. The greateſt part of the foundation of Iſola Madre, is a high perpen⯑dicular rock, projecting conſiderably over the ſur⯑face of the water. The houſe is nothing remark⯑able, that front only being completeed which looks [130] towards Iſola Bella, however, it is not without fine paintings, flowers, landſcapes, &c. The garden alſo abounds with beauties; among theſe, are a fine eſpalier of citron-trees, with a low contra eſpalier of orange-trees, an arched walk of cedars, a ſmaller eſpalier of jeſſamin, an eſpalier of acacia, and ano⯑ther of roſemary, not leſs than eight feet in height. with ſtems of the thickneſs of a man's arm. Here are alſo ſeveral ſmall groves of laurel, with walks cut through them; ſome of theſe trees are of an uncom⯑mon thickneſs. An eſpalier of laurels, in this cli⯑mate, will ſhoot up to the height of eighteen feet, in ſix or ſeven years. There is a little houſe built in this iſland for the pheaſants, and near it is a beauti⯑ful grove of very lofty cypreſs-trees: each row con⯑ſiſts of twenty-five trees, which ſpread very wide in circumference, and the trunks are of the thickneſs of a man's body. This appears the fineſt part of the iſland, and is ſo beautiful, ſays Keyſler, that it na⯑turally recals to ones mind, the fabulous deſcriptions of enchanted iſlands. He has given views of them.

The Lago di Lugano, is 20 miles in length, and the Lago di Como, 36, with an arm pro⯑jecting from the North-weſt, to the South-Eaſt, till at laſt it becomes a regular river, called the Adda, which empties itſelf into the Po. This latter lake, ſays Martin, is the pleaſanteſt of all thoſe at the foot [131] of the Alps. There are large plantations of Agrumi, on the borders of it, particularly in the ſweet environs of Tremenzina, whither many of the noble Milaneſe retire, during the heat of ſum⯑mer.

At Caſa Simonetta, is an echo, which will repeat the human voice, 40 times, and the report of a piſtol, 56 or 60 times. This is occaſioned, ſays Keyſler, by the reflection of the voice, between the oppoſite pa⯑rallel wings of the building, which are 58 common paces from each other, and without any windows, or doors, by which the ſound might be diſſipated or loſt. The repetition of the ſound, dwells chiefly on the laſt ſyllable, which might have been altered, by allow⯑ing a greater diſtance between the two wings; but poſſibly it was apprehended, that the number of the repetitions would be diminiſhed by that means. The reverberations of the air, in conveying ſounds, are beſt conceived by two looking-glaſſes, alternate⯑ly reflecting to each other an image, which gradually fades; but whether the repetition of the ſound be direct or undulatory, I ſhall not at preſent diſcuſs. It is certain, that where no intermediate body op⯑poſes the motion of the air, there is no echo; and where the oppoſite bodies are at too great a diſtance from each other, either the air impelled by the [132] voice or inſtrument, doth not reach them; or the motion is ſo weak, that it cauſes but a faint echo, which cannot be heard. On the other hand, if the reſiſting body be too near, it reflects the ſound too quick to be diſtinctly perceived. If the voice falls on an angular or convex body the reflected ſound diverges into ſeveral different directions, none of which form a proper angle to reach the ear. A concave or convex body indeed, reflects the ſound with a ſtronger echo to one particular place, (as a concave burning glaſs reflects and concenters the ſolar rays into one focus,) which is not heard by the perſon who firſt put the air in motion, but by ſome others, who happen to be in the focus where the rays of ſound unite. This kind of echo is at⯑tended with no repercuſſion, and cauſes only a ſin⯑gle repetition of the ſound. Two or more bodies, placed oppoſite each other, at different diſtances, are requiſite to form a multiplied echo; or the wall at which the ſpeaker ſtands muſt have another wall, oppoſite to it, ſo as to form two parallel planes, which will alternately reflect to each other the ſound communicated to them with as little diſſipa⯑tion as poſſible. This laſt circumſtance is found in the two parallel wings of this ſeat, which forming right angles, with the main body of the building, have a very ſurpriſing effect. A man's voice is re⯑peated above 40 times, and the report of a piſtol [133] above 60 by this echo: but the repetition is ſo quick, that it is difficult to tell them, or even to mark them down, unleſs it be early in a morning, or in a calm ſtill evening: when the air is rather too moiſt or too dry, the effect is found not to anſwer ſo well. Pliny mentions a wonderful echo at Olim⯑pia, where a gallery was contrived, ſo as to repeat a word ſeven times.

The Milaneſe are fond of rural ſports, and paſs part of the ſummer, and the whole autumn in the country. Monte di Brianza, on which many of their country houſes are ſituated, is delightful for the variety of landſcapes, and for being well watered. Every part indeed of the ſtate of Milan, except to the northward, which is mountainous, bears teſti⯑mony to the beneficial effects of inigation. There are generally five crops of hay every ſeaſon in the neighbourhood of Milan and in the province of Lodi, where the meadows are watered once a week during the ſummer, if neceſſary.

CHAP. XVII. City of Milan.

MILAN, the ancient capital of Lombardy, is the largeſt city in Italy, except Rome, but though it is thought, ſays Moore, rather to exceed Naples in ſize, it does not contain above one half the number of inhabitants. Like Rome, ſays Mar⯑tin, it has many large gardens, and like Rome too, it is well peopled in the parts that are built. This city is not to be compared for beauty and conve⯑nience with that of Turin, moſt of the ſtreets being narrow and winding. All the houſes here are co⯑vered with pantiles, and in many of the croſs ſtreets, and at the ſtations or places, where the public pro⯑ceſſions ſtop, ſtatues are erected, to the number of 60, ſome of marble, but moſt of braſs. The in⯑habitants of this city are computed to be about 300,000. Milan has 12 gates, ſix of which are larger than the reſt, and terminate ſo many broad ſtreets, called Gli Corſi; and theſe are the beſt in the whole city; but they are a great diſtance from the centre, and likewiſe from each other; a [135] daily market is kept at the ſix great gates. There are 110 monaſteries in Milan, 100 oratories for religious fraternities, 170 ſchools, and 250 churches, of which near 100 are parochial.

The cathedral ſtands in the centre of the city; and, after, St. Peter's at Rome, is the moſt conſider⯑able building in Italy. It ought, by this time, to be the largeſt in the world, ſays Moore, if what they tell us be true, that it is near 400 years ſince it was begun, and that there has been a conſi⯑derable number of men daily employed in compleat⯑ing it ever ſince; but as the injuries which time does to the ancient parts of the fabric, keep them in conſtant employment, without the poſſibility of their work being ever completed, Martial's Epigram on the Barber Eutrapelus, has been applied to them with great propriety. That poor man, it ſeems, performed his operations ſo very ſlowly, that the beards of his patients, required ſhaving again, on the ſide where he had begun, by the time he had finiſhed the other. No church in Chriſtendom is ſo much loaded, I had almoſt ſaid disfigured, with ornaments. The number of ſtatues, within-ſide and without, is prodigious; they are all of marble, and many of them finely wrought.

[136]The greater part cannot be diſtinctly ſeen from below, and therefore certainly have nothing to do above. Beſides thoſe which are of a ſize, and in a ſituation to be diſtinguiſhed from the ſtreet, there are great numbers of ſmaller ſtatues, like fairies, peeping from the cornice, and hid among the groteſque ornaments, which are here in great pro⯑fuſion. They muſt have coſt much labour to the artiſts who formed them, and are ſtill a ſource of toil to ſtrangers, who, in compliment to the perſon who harangues on the beauties of this church, which he ſays, is the eighth wonder of the world, are obliged to aſcend to the roof to have a nearer view of them.

This vaſt fabric is not ſimply incruſted, which is not uncommon in Italy, but entirely built of ſolid white marble, and ſupported by 50 columns, ſaid to be 84 feet high. The four pillars, under the cupola, are 28 feet in circumference. By much the fineſt ſtatue, belonging to it, is that of St. Bartholomew. He appears ſtayed, with his ſkin flung round his middle, like a ſaſh, and in the eaſieſt and moſt degagé attitude imaginable. The muſcles are well expreſſed, and the figure might be placed with great propriety, in the hall of an anatomiſt; but, expoſed as it is, to the view of people of all profeſſions, and of both ſexes, it excites more [137] diſguſt and horror, than admiration. Like thoſe beggars, who uncover their ſores in the ſtreets, the artiſt has deſtroyed the very effect he meant to pro⯑duce. This would have ſufficiently evinced, that the ſtatue was not the work of Praxiteles, without the inſcription on the pedeſtal. ‘Non me Praxiteles, ſed Marcus finxit Agrato.’ "I am not the workmanſhip of Praixteles, but of Marcus Agrato."

The inſide of the choir, is ornamented by ſome highly eſteemed ſculpture, in wood. From the roof, hangs a caſe of cryſtal, encloſing a nail, ſurrounded by rays of gilt metal, and ſaid to be one of thoſe, by which our Saviour was nailed to the croſs: near it is a kind of machine by which ſix perſons may be drawn up to it at once. On the third of May, being the feſtival of the invention of the croſs, this relique is carried about in grand proceſſion. The like is alſo done on any extraordinary irritations, as a long drought, the plague, and other public cala⯑mities. It is then carried by the Archbiſhop, under a magnificent canopy.

Among other curioſities in this church, there is a very extraordinary one, viz. a piece of Aaron's rod. Some pieces of it, are alſo ſhewn in the palace-church of Hanover, among thoſe reliques which Henry, ſurnamed the Lion, brought from the [138] Holy-land; it is alſo accompanied with a piece of Moſes's rod.

The pavement is a kind of moſaic, conſiſting of pieces of red, black, and white marble, in⯑laid; ſo as to repreſent circles, feſtoons, flowers, foliage, &c. ſo that when it is viewed from the cu⯑pola, it appears like a beautiful carpet. The pave⯑ment of the choir, is ſaid to have coſt above five thouſand crowns. The reſt of the pavement is only made of tiles, and thoſe laid ſo uneven, as to be very inconvenient for people to walk upon them.

The Prebendarie ſtalls are made of walnut-tree, on which, all the remarkable actions of the Emperor Theodoſius and St. Ambroſe, are admirably executed in ſculpture. Every action is repreſented on a diſ⯑tinct compartment, and though numerous, are ſaid to be the work of one artiſt. The canons are di⯑vided into three claſſes, thirty of which, are nobles; and, like the Cardinals, wear a red veſtment; the ſecond claſs conſiſts of wealthy citizens, who are cloathed in green; and the reſt, wear the common habit of the Clergy.

A marble ſtair-caſe, carried round one of the main pillars, conſiſting of 158 ſteps, leads to the firſt [139] outward gallery. Here is a marble ſtatue of Duke John Galeazzo Viſconti, on the top of a pyramid, with a flag in his hand, who, in the year 1386, laid the foundation of this ſtately edifice. This ſtatue, though as big as the life, when ſeen from the ground, does not appear to exceed a ſpan and a half in length. Many ſtatues of Saints, Dukes, and other eminent perſonages, ſtand round the gallery; ſeveral of theſe images are of a gigantic ſize, and ſome make ſuch an appearance, that reverence for the perſons repreſented, and a regard to modeſty, has occaſioned them to be placed at this height, in order to ſet them at a proper diſtance from the pub⯑lic view.

In this church, there are ſilver votive offerings, to the weight of ſome thouſands of ounces, repre⯑ſenting heads, hearts, feet, hands, ears, and other parts of the body, which had been hurt or diſeaſed, but ſuppoſed to be reſtored to their ſtrength and ſoundneſs, by the interceſſion of St. Charles Borromeo. All ſilverſmiths expoſe to ſale, ſuch votive pieces, of different ſizes, ready made, that a recovered patient may immediately pay his vow, leſt his gratitude ſhould cool by any delay.

The body of this Saint, lies on the altar of a ſub⯑terraneous chapel, directly under the main cupola. [140] It is dreſſed in pontifical robes, and lies in a ſhrine of cryſtal, of almoſt ineſtimable value, within a coffin made of wood. The body is entire, and the face quite perfect, except the tip of the noſe, but the ſkin is of the colour and conſiſtence of parch⯑ment; it has a ſhining appearance, like a burn or ſcald newly healed; he has ſilk gloves on; his portrait is preſerved in a little chapel juſt by; it is done in embroidery by the famous Peregina, and exhibits a ſtrong likeneſs, to what he is at preſent. There is but one key belonging to this chapel, which is kept by the Archbiſhop, without whoſe leave, this venerable relique is not to be ſeen. The walls of the chapel are almoſt every where lined with ſilver. This is the Saint, who ſold an eſtate for 80,000 dol⯑lars, all which money he diſtributed in one day to the poor. Every ſeparate compartment of this chapel, is caſed, ſays Piozzi, like our old faſhioned watch-caſes, with ſome ſtory from his life. Every year, the immortal Carlo Borromeo's actions are rehearſed, and his praiſes celebrated by people, appointed in every church, to preach his example and record his excellence.

A ſight of the treaſury, coſts about five or ſix ſhillings; it is extremely rich, and contains a prodi⯑gious number of gold and ſilver veſſels, ſtatues, rings, chalices, crucifixes, of which the metal is the leaſt [141] valuable part. Some of the moſt valuable curioſi⯑ties to be ſeen here, are a ſilver image of St. Bor⯑romeo, bigger than life, with a diamond crucifix of immenſe value, hanging at his breaſt. The front of this mitre, which is always put on the deceaſed Archbiſhop's head, when his body is carried in pro⯑ceſſion, is entirely covered with pearl. The Arch⯑biſhop, on theſe public occaſions, carries a cryſtal cup, ſet in gold, with a ſapphire of the largeneſs of a bean, on the top of the cover. Another jewel, con⯑ſiſting of a cluſter of gems, with an oriental topaz, of the bigneſs of a large walnut in the centre, is worn by the Archbiſhop at his boſom. St. Charles Borromeo's ring, has in it a ſapphire of the ſize of a hazel-nut, and is kiſſed, with great devotion, by all eccleſiaſtics.

A rich merchant of this city, left beſides his other charitable foundations, 230,000 ducats, to be ex⯑pended in building the front of the cathedral only, and yet the work is not ſo much as begun. This is ſuppoſed to be omitted purpoſely, that perſons of fortune, and of a liberal diſpoſition, being affected by ſuch a ſight, may be excited to contribute largely, in order to complete the church, and embrace the opportunity of ſecuring their eter⯑nal ſalvation. Though, as we obſerved before, it is near five centuries ſince this church has been [142] begun: the whole ſquare behind it, is filled with workmen, employed in ſawing, cutting, and poliſh⯑ing the marble. There is an annual income of 18,000 crowns levied till the church ſhall be com⯑pleted.

Both here, and in other churches in the Mila⯑neſe, the entrances are crowded with old women, ſpinning, or occupied with ſome other employment; as they do not beg, they poſſibly conceive it to be a work of merit, to ſpend the whole day, as it were, in the houſe of God. One alſo meets here, with wo⯑men in black veils, aſking alms, ſuppoſed to be ſuch, who, from their rank or circumſtances, are not willing to be known; as they beg in public. Formerly, men uſed this diſguiſe, but, on account of the many abuſes they committed, the Archbiſhop prohibited that ſex the uſe of it.

Oppoſite to the cathedral, ſtands the Archbiſhop's palace, a very ſpacious building, conſiſting of two courts. In one of theſe, are the ſtatues of St. Charles Borromeo, and St. Ambroſe; the latter, with an iron rod in his hand, as an emblem of his heroic oppoſi⯑tion to the Emperor Theodoſius, in which particular, the Clergy, had they power, do not want the inclina⯑tion to imitate him.

[143]The Ambroſian college, which ſtands near the centre of the city, is a foundation for the ſeveral branches of literature, where youth are inſtructed gratis, by 16 profeſſors. The city is obliged to Cardinal F. Borromeo, nephew to the Saint of that name, for this inſtitution. The chief thing here, worth a traveller's notice, is the library, which is upon a very extenſive ſcale. This library, except in vacation time, is open every morning, from ten to twelve, and in the afternoon alſo, for two hours: it contains 45,000 printed volumes; which, however, are far leſs valuable than its treaſure of manuſcripts. In appearance, it does not ſeem credible, that the latter ſhould amount to 15,000, as it is pretended; but, that there are ſome good pieces among them, is certain. Here is a voluminous work, treating of the affairs of Italy, entitled, de Scriptoribus Rerum Italicarum, compiled by the learned Muraton. The moſt curious manuſcript in the whole library, is a tranſlation of Joſephus's Hiſtory of the Jews, by Rufinus, in folio, it being reputed to be above 1300, or at leaſt 1100 years old, and is written on the bark of a tree. Some adjacent rooms, ſerve for a mu⯑ſeum, where, among other curioſities, is the ſkeleton of a woman of great beauty, who directed that her bones ſhould be diſpoſed of in this manner, and under the ſkeleton, are theſe words: Ut aegrotan⯑tium ſaluti mortucrum inſpectione viventes proſpicere [144] poſſint bunc [...]. i. e. This ſkeleton is placed here, that the living, by a view of the dead, may be the better enabled to reſtore health to the ſick. If this lady, ſays Moore, only meant to give a proof of the tranſient nature of external charms, and that a beau⯑tiful woman is not more deſirable after death, than a homely one, ſhe might have allowed her body to be conſigned to duſt in the uſual way. In ſpite of all the coſmetics, and other auxiliaries, which vanity employs to varniſh and to ſupport decaying beauty and flaccid charms, the world have been long ſatis⯑fied, that death is not neceſſary to put the fair and the homely on a level; a very few years, even dur⯑ing life, do the buſineſs.

But the moſt valuable thing, among the whole collection, are 12 large volumes of Leonardo da Vinci's manuſcripts, conſiſting of mathematical and other deſigns, which ſufficiently manifeſt the accurate knowledge of that great man in anatomy, optics, geometry, architecture, ſculpture, and me⯑chanics; and that in the theory of thoſe ſciences, he has been equalled by very few. His mechanical de⯑ſignings are exceedingly curious, and conſiſt of 399 leaves, containing 1750 original deſigns. The notes are written in very ſmall hand, and from the right to the left; ſo that they cannot be eaſily read, without a magnifying ſpeculum, and on this account, there is [145] one always at hand. For this one volume, James I. King of England, is ſaid to have commiſſioned the Earl of Arundel, to offer 3000 piſtoles to the per⯑ſon in whoſe hands it then was; but he rather choſe to make a preſent of it to the Ambroſian college, that this part of his works might not be ſe⯑parated from the reſt.

Leonardo had his ſurname of Vinci, from a caſtle of that name, ſituated near Florence. He died at Fountainbleau, in 1520, in the 75th year of his age, with this honorable circumſtance, that he expired in the arms of Francis the Iſt. who had condeſcended to viſit him in his laſt illneſs.

In this library, are alſo volumes of deſigns by other maſters, ſuch as Raphael, Michael Angelo, Andrea del Sarto, Corregio, Parmeſano, and ſeveral books of painted birds and flowers.

Over the great door of the refectory, in the Do⯑minican convent, is the Lord's ſupper, painted by Leonardo da Vinci, but with too many marks of the injuries of time. The ſtory of Vinci's revenge on the haughty Prior, who was inceſſantly teazing him to diſpatch the picture, in painting the traitor Judas in his likeneſs, may, with other particulars, be read at large, in Vaſari's Lives of the Painters.

[146]The following diſtich on a plain piece of marble, ſhews where George Merula, the hiſtorian, a native of Milan, lies interred:

"When among the ſtorms and troubles of the world, I, Merula, lived to others; but now, become an inhabitant of heaven, I live for myſelf. Lancinus Curtius his friend, erected this.

In the ſacriſty of St. Euſtorius's church, is a gold medal, ſaid to be among the offerings of the Magi to Jeſus Chriſt. Whenever this medal is ſhewn to any perſon, the Monks inſiſt on a promiſe of their devoutly kiſſing it. It ſeems there are ſcarce any traces of an impreſſion remaining. The bodies of the three Magi, are reported to have been firſt brought from Perſia to Conſtantinople, from whence they were conveyed to Milan. But Antiquarians are not a little divided about their number, ſome affirming them to have been 12, others 14, and Epi⯑phanius, 15. Their three-fold offering was no proof of their being but three in number; gold, and myrrh, and frankincenſe, being the moſt valuable produce of their country, and what the Queen of [147] Sheba brought Solomon, as the moſt honorable pre⯑ſent ſhe could make that monarch. The more mo⯑dern writers, agreeable to the opinion of Pope Leo the Great, limit the number of the eaſtern Magi to three; but venerable Bede is the firſt who brought to light their names, viz. Caſpar, Melchior, and Balthaſar: and it is a ſuperſtitious notion of ſome ſtanding, that the following diſtich, written on a ſlip of paper, and carried about the patient, is an infallible preſervative againſt epilepſies:

"Caſpar brings myrrh, Melchior frankincenſe, Balthaſar gold; whoever carries about him the names of theſe three Kings, will be preſerved through the merits of Jeſus Chriſt, from the ſalling ſick⯑neſs.

Keyſler, who in general is very accurate, has only two lines, and obſerves, that ſomething ſeems wanting to complete the ſenſe.

Near the Porta Orientale, is the ſpacious Lazaretto, belonging to the great hoſpital; the area is let out to poor people, who maintain themſelves by culti⯑vating [148] gardens and vineyards; and this is the only thing worth ſeeing in it. The 360 chambers round the quadrangle, are quite empty and out of repair. The whole building is of ſtone, and every cell has a window towards the country, and another towards the gardens in the middle of the Lagaretto, and its particular chimney and privy. On the outſide of theſe cells, runs a piazza, with marble pillars. In the time of a peſtilence, or epidemic diſtem⯑per, foreigners are expelled out of the country, and the infected ſubjects brought hither. The compaſs of ground incloſed in the Lazaretto, may be con⯑ceived from the length of one of its ſides, which is 600 paces. Another great convenience here is, that a ſwift ſtream is made to run along under the whole quadrangle, and thus carries off all the filth. Facing the entrance, is a marble pillar, with a hole, repreſenting a broken plague-ſore in the fleſh; within, it appears freſh and bloody, and without, yellow and purulent, and is ſaid to ariſe from a miracle of St. Charles Borromeo, who once exor⯑ciſed the plague into this pillar.

As to hoſpitals, Lazaretti, and other charitable foundations, proteſtant countries can by no means come in competition with thoſe of the Romiſh per⯑ſuaſion. However, at Leyden there is ſtill a peſt-houſe kept up, with 250 beds always in readineſs, [149] and, upon occaſion, capable of receiving 900 pa⯑tients. Nothing can exceed the cleanlineſs and de⯑cency obſerved there, with this exception only, that every patient has not a particular room, but 20, or more lie in one ward; which, in a contagious diſtem⯑per, cannot but be attended with bad conſequences. From this dreadful ſcourge, Leyden has been free ever ſince 1667, and Milan ſince the year 1630; and it is to be hoped that, by the precautions lately introduced, the uſe of more healthy and nutritive aliments, greater cleanlineſs in apparel and linen, ſpaciouſneſs of houſes, and breadth of ſtreets, for freer paſſage of the air, that Europe will no more be ſubject to ſuch peſtilential ravages, as in the days of our anceſtors.

During the laſt plague at Milan ſome villains were found of ſuch execrable barbarity, as to increaſe the contagion by poiſonous ointments, which they threw in the ſtreets, or ſmeared about in ſeveral parts of the city. However their abominable guilt was not long concealed, and two of the ring-leaders, a Barber, and the Commiſſary of Health, were puniſh⯑ed with proper rigour and ſeverity; as appears by an inſcription on a pillar erected where the Barber's houſe ſtood, which is called Colonna infame.

[150]The purport of the inſcription, which is in Latin, is, that in this open area formerly ſtood the ſhop of John James Mora, who, together with William Platea, the Commiſſary of Health, and others, whilſt the city was afflicted with a dreadful peſtilence, ſpread about poiſonous ointments, by which many died in a deplorable manner. Being by the Senate declared enemies to their country, they were firſt ſentenced to be torn in pieces with red hot pincers, and to have their right hands cut off, then to be broke upon the wheel, and to lie ſix hours tied down to the ſame; after which their throats to be cut, and their bodies to be burned to aſhes; and, that no⯑thing might remain of ſuch execrable villains, their goods to be confiſcated, and their aſhes to be thrown into the river; and, that for the perpetual com⯑memoration of their guilt and puniſhment, the houſe, where this horrid fact was concerted, was or⯑dered to be levelled to the ground, and never to be rebuilt, and a pillar to be erected on the ſpot, called the Infamous Column. Approach not this place good citizens, is farther inſcribed upon it, fly far away; leſt ye be polluted by this infamous and exe⯑crable ſpot.

In one of the convents belonging to the Domini⯑cans, the tribunal of the Inquiſition is held; the ſe⯑verities of which are exerciſed chiefly againſt the [151] Jewiſh religion, and no one of that profeſſion muſt come into the city without firſt making his appear⯑ance before this tribunal. The court of Inquiſition at Milan, beſides eccleſiaſtics, conſiſts of 60 noble⯑ment, and 150 reputable merchants. They, whoſe misfortune it is to fall into their hands, never know the informer, nor on what account they are impriſoned; and from thoſe nauſeous cells in which they are confined, and other ſhocking hardſhips, there is no deliverance but by becoming their own accuſers.

A prieſt, ſays Keyſler, previous to his viſiting this city, underwent a ſevere puniſhment merely for celebrating maſs before he received his bull of ordina⯑tion. It was in vain for him to plead that the Pope's bull was on the road from Rome; and the intereſt of his relations, who were perſons of ſome note, was to as little purpoſe. A ſcaffold being erected before the church where the crime had been committed, he was ſentenced firſt to read maſs; and as ſoon as he began, the firſt leaf was immediately torn out, after which his canonical robes were pulled off. He was then delivered over to the civil magiſtrate, by whoſe order, the thumbs, with the fore and mid⯑dle fingers of both his hands, between which, at the elevation, he held the hoſt, being firſt burnt to a coal, he was hanged. This ſeverity is eaſily [152] accounted for from the dignity aſſumed by the prieſthood, and the great importance to the Pope, that none intrude themſelves into that office with⯑out being properly ordained. It is a poſition of Hoſtienſis that the ſacerdotal office, is 7644 times above the regal, that being the proportion of mag⯑nitude between the ſun and the moon. In the eye of the canon law the prerogative of the crown is as much inferior to that of the mitre, as lead is to gold. But Alanus de Rupe, in his Treatiſe on the Dignity of the Prieſthood, takes a higher flight, and ſcruples not to raiſe the power of the prieſt above that of God himſelf, alledging that God ſpent a whole week in creating the world, and diſpoſing it into proper form; whereas a prieſt, every time he ſays maſs with a word or two, produces not a mere creature, but the ſupreme uncreated Being himſelf the origin of all things. Le Gendre, in his Hiſtory of France, relating that Louis XI wiſhing that he was as happy as the Virgin Mary, who carried our Saviour in her womb; the Pope gave that monarch to underſtand, that the prieſtly office is ſtill more ho⯑nourable; inſomuch that a prieſt may daily, or oft⯑ner, carry the body of Chriſt in his hand.

Near the Dominican church is a ſchool with this inſcription over the door:

[153]"I ſtand open to poor youths, who are deſirous of the firſt rudiments of learning; I aſk not money, only genius."

The great hoſpital, founded by Duke Franciſco Sfortia, is a noble building, perhaps the firſt in the world of it's kind. The middle court of this hoſpital is ſurrounded by a piazza, which conſiſts of 80 arches, ſupported by marble pillars. Each ſide of this court, which is ſquare, is 250 feet in length, and has three galleries: beſides this large court, there are eight ſmal⯑ler. The number of wards for the ſick and wounded, are 24, who are diſtributed into proper wards, ac⯑cording to their different diſeaſes. The conſump⯑tive patients have their particular ward, another is appointed for fevers, a third for the ſmall pox, a fourth for the wounded, a fifth for the venereal diſ⯑eaſe, &c. There are generally about 400 patients in the fever-ward. Though this ward is very lofty in reſpect of the others, and all poſſible care is taken for the free paſſage of air, to keep it ſweet and cle$$, yet amidſt ſuch numbers of patients, it is impoſſible to prevent an offenſive ſmell. The ſight of ſome hundreds, lying in a fever, muſt every where be diſagreeable, but eſpecially here, where the black hair of the Italians adds to the ghaſtlineſs of their ſallow, meagre viſages.

[154]In the admiſſion of expoſed foundlings, or of ſick and wounded, no regard is paid to country or reli⯑gion. The Proteſtants lie in the ſame wards with other patients, but at the other end; and when the Hoſt is elevated, or carried about, a curtain is drawn between them and the reſt. Thus, by a very commendable and humane indulgence, the adora⯑tion of the Hoſt is diſpenſed with, and the conſcience is free from all compulſion; nor are ſtrangers obliged to kneel on meeting the Hoſt, either in the churches or ſtreets.

The wounded are brought into this hoſpital by a particular door, which is kept open all night for that purpoſe; but other patients are admitted only in the day-time. This is a regulation, which if the Governors of our Hoſpitals in England, were to adopt, it would redound more to their cre⯑dit and humanity. We have the conceit to imagine, that we are the moſt charitable nation on the face of the earth; whereas, an attentive inſight into the manners and cuſtoms of other nations, will ſhew that there are few, who do not exceed us, in their bene⯑volent inſtitutions, for the aſſiſtance and relief of the diſtreſſed.

Theſe foundations are under the continual in⯑ſpection of 19 of the principal nobility; one of theſe [155] governors muſt attend every morning, in his turn, to enquire into the management of the hoſpital, and viſit all the wards; aſking the patients, one by one, whether they are well treated, and upon the leaſt juſt complaint againſt any officer, he is immediately removed. The viſitor alſo enquires if any thing be wanting, and whether any wounded patients have been received into the hoſpital, the preceding night; and every morning, an account of their admittance and condition, is drawn up by a Notary. To this hoſpital belong nine Phyſicians and four Surgeons, who all viſit the patients three times a day, and adminiſter medicines to the ſick; the Surgeons indeed live in the hoſpital. The diſpenſary itſelf takes up a very large hall, where every afternoon the medicines are made up for the uſe of the following day. The preſcriptions are regularly entered in a day-book, and, for preventing any accident or miſ⯑take among ſuch a variety of different medicines, every doſe is marked with the number of the bed, and the name of the patient for whom it is deſigned.

The plaiſters are made and ſpread, in a particu⯑lar apartment: to this hoſpital alſo belongs a very good phyſic-garden. For carrying off the filth, a canal or ſink runs under every part of this edifice, and all the tradeſmen employed by the hoſpital, live within its walls, as the baker, butcher, weaver, [156] taylor, ſempſtreſs, and ſeveral others who have their reſpective ſhops; ſo that this hoſpital is as it were a little city, or republic within itſelf, having very little connexion with Milan. In the meadows be⯑longing to this hoſpital, are kept bullocks, ſheep, &c. and by computation between 5 and 600 weight of butchers meat is daily conſumed here, beſides other eatables.

The number of patients generally exceeds 1500: the females are diſtributed into nine particular wards; the officers and ſervants, of all ranks, in this hoſpital, are reckoned to be 500. At the charge of the hoſ⯑pital, but at another place, are likewiſe maintained 300 idiots and lunatics, and alſo above 5000 found⯑lings. Some of theſe laſt are kept in the country, and others in the city, where they are brought up to handicraft trades. None but women of very good character are admitted as wet-nurſes to theſe chil⯑dren. Two hours after ſun-ſet, at the main entrance of the hoſpital, a kind of wicket is opened, within which is a copper machine, in the ſhape of an oven, which turns on an axis, and is large enough to con⯑tain a child of ſeven or eight years old. The ma⯑chine has a large aperture, which at night is turned towards the ſtreet; and mothers, who have been lately delivered, and are unable to bring up their children, ſend them here. The child being put [157] into the machine, the perſon who brings it, turns it about, knocks at the gate and makes off; then the porter, who always ſits up in the room, to which the open ſide of the machine is turned, receives the infant, and ſends it to one of the nurſes. Every ſuch foundling is baptiſed, unleſs a note be left to ſignify that it has been done already. Formerly, unnatural or diſtreſſed parents uſed to lay down the infants at the gate, through which the wounded patients were conveyed in the night; ſo that often the poor children were deprived of their limbs, and ſometimes loſt their lives by ſome accident before they were found, and taken in. Four or five children are often brought to the hoſpital in one night, and ſeldom leſs than three. The apartments of the wet-nurſes, and of all the other women be⯑longing to the hoſpital, are ſo contrived that no men can come among them, unleſs in the preſence of thoſe inveſted with ſome authority. The wet-nurſes, when either the weakneſs or illneſs of the infants requires them to remain in the hoſpital, are allowed a bed-chamber, another for feeding the children, and a third for waſhing them. What inſtitution in England have we to vie with this? None. In Ireland there is ſomething ſimilar to it, where numbers of children from the Welch and Lancaſhire coaſts are daily ſent to be educated and brought up; and yet how much more conſequential [158] do we conceive ourſelves, than either the Milaneſe or the Iriſh.

The certain yearly income of this hoſpital amounts to 90 or 100,000 crowns. No country in the world, ſays Keyſler, equals Italy in the care of the poor and ſick; and if there be any fault in this particular, it is, perhaps, the want of due qualifi⯑cations in the phyſicians and ſurgeons.

La Charité, and that famous hoſpital in Paris, l'Hotel Dieu, ſays the above author, receive indeed a great number of patients, but nothing of the re⯑gularity and cleanlineſs of the Italian hoſpitals is to be ſeen there. Only the lower wards of the latter hoſpital have ſingle beds for each patient, and theſe but few in number, and are paid for; moſt of the other beds are for two perſons, who alſo lie one at the head and the other at the feet; and in many of the beds four patients lie in the ſame man⯑ner. In ſuch a ſituation it muſt neceſſarily follow, that ſome patients who are on the mending hand, may be obliged to lie ſeveral hours with others who are in the agonies of death; and it is no very un⯑common caſe for the dead to lie an hour or longer among the living, eſpecially if it ſhould happen that the patient dies after ten o'clock at night.

[159]Beſides, the great hoſpital are ſeveral other foun⯑dations for the ſick and poor. La Charité is a large building for the ſupport of 200 orphans. St. Vincentis hoſpital for lunatics, has ſeldom leſs than 200 patients. In that of St. Celſus ſome hun⯑dreds of foundlings are provided for; and in St. Ambroſe's hoſpital, aged perſons, who are paſt their labour, are comfortably maintained. The Broglio hoſpital is the receptacle for ſuch patients as are infected with venereal complaints, which in Italy are not only more frequent, but more ſhock⯑ing and terrible in their conſequences than in other countries.

St. Stephen's Church is built on the ſpot where the firſt battle againſt the Arians is ſaid to have been fought, with this addition, that St. Ambroſe, being at a loſs to diſtinguiſh the dead bodies of the orthodox from the heretics, ordered the latter to lie with their faces downwards to the earth, and the former to look up towards Heaven, which was immediately done. It is further related that the blood of the faithful, gathering together, conglo⯑merated into the form of a wheel, until it was to⯑tally abſorbed by a hollow ſtone, over which a braſs plate is placed on the ground; and oppoſite to it is a pillar with the figure of a wheel, and an inſcrip⯑tion cut upon it in Latin, ſignifying that this wheel [160] was ſet up as a memorial of a moſt bloody battle, fought between the Catholics and the Arians, when St. Ambroſe was Biſhop of Milan; by the preva⯑lency of whoſe prayers the blood of the orthodox that were ſlain, which ran promiſcuouſly with the blood of the heretics, immediately coagulated in the form of a wheel, (ſeparating what was ſacred from the profane,) which gave the name of La Rota to this church, a name it ſtill retains with that of St. Stephen's. The inſcription further remarks, that the hollow ſtone, which lies oppoſite the wheel, abſorbed the blood of the ſaints, which miraculouſly flowed to this place, and requeſting the reader to adore the traces of this miracle and reverence its memory.

A few paces from St. Stephen's Church ſtands a chapel paved with ſeveral hundred ſkulls and bones of thoſe that were ſlain in the abovementioned ac⯑tion, almoſt like the chapel of the 11000 virgins at Cologn. The bones conſtitute the ground work, and the ſkulls form the croſſes with which it is inlaid: beſides theſe, on each ſide of the altar, ſtands a pyramid of bones, ſecured with an iron grate, that none may fall down or be ſtolen.

Milan, like all very large cities, is of little ſtrength, being only ſurrounded by a lined rampart. [161] The Governor General of the Milaneſe reſides at Milan, in a ſpacious but old and ill contrived palace, in which alſo is the theatre for operas and comedies. Mrs. Piozzi, ſpeaking of the theatre in this city, which will hold 4000 perſons, ſays, a receptacle ſo capacious to contain 4000 people, a place of en⯑trance ſo commodious to receive them, a ſhow ſo princely, ſo very magnificent to entertain them, muſt be ſought in vain out of Italy. The centre front box, richly adorned with gilding, arms, and trophies, is appropriated to the court, whoſe canopy is carried up, to what we call the firſt gallery, in England; the creſcent of boxes, ending with the ſtage, conſiſt of 19 on a ſide, ſmall boudoirs, for ſuch they ſeem; and are as ſuch, fitted, up with ſilk hangings, girandoles, &c. and placed ſo judiciouſly, as to catch every ſound of the ſingers, if they do but whiſper; I will not ſay, remarks Mrs. Piozzi, it is equally advantageous to the figure as to the voice; no performers looking adequate to the place they recite upon; ſo very ſtately is the building itſelf, being of entire ſtone, with an immenſe portico, and ſtairs, which for width, a carriage might be drawn up. There is an immenſe ſideboard at the firſt lobby, lighted and furniſhed with luxurious and elegant plenty; it being the faſhion for many peo⯑ple to ſend for ſupper to their box, where they can entertain their friends with infinite convenience and [162] ſplendour. A ſilk curtain defends the cloſet from intruſive eyes, when dropped down; and when drawn up, gives gaiety and ſhew to the general appear⯑ance of the whole; acroſs the corridor, leading to theſe boxes, another ſmall chamber, numbered like that it belongs to, is appropriated to the uſe of the ſervants, and furniſhed with every convenience to make chocolate, ſerve lemonade, &c.

CHAP. XVIII. People, Character, Cuſtoms, Manners, Diverſions. &c.

THE fair ſex, both of the higheſt and loweſt rank at Milan, are but very indifferent in their perſons, whereas the middling or trading claſs of people, affords a great many very pretty women: in dreſs and gallantry, they come very near the faſhions and gallantry of Paris, indeed much nearer than in many of the provincial cities. At [163] an opera, ſays Groſley, all the gay world is ſeen, and, to the greater advantage; as during the play, the ladies receive viſits, and for this purpoſe, their boxes are illuminated and ſet off with looking-glaſſes, couches on every ſide, and ſumptuous hang⯑ings. Theſe boxes, which are hired by the year, may be cloſe ſhut in the front, and very often, a ſmall part only of them is open, that the play may leſs diſturb the converſation.

There is no place in Italy, remarks Moore, (he adds, I perhaps might have ſaid in Europe,) where ſtrangers are received in ſuch an eaſy, hoſpitable manner, as at Milan. Formerly the Milaneſe no⯑bility diſplayed a degree of ſplendour and muni⯑ficence, not only in their entertainments, but in their uſual ſtile of living, unknown in any other country in Europe. They are under a neceſſity at preſent, of living at leſs expence; but they ſtill ſhew the ſame obliging and hoſpitable diſpoſition. This country having not very long ſince been poſ⯑ſeſſed by the French, from whom it devolved to the Spaniards, and from thence to the Germans; the troops of theſe nations, have at different pe⯑riods had their reſidence here, and in the courſe of theſe viciſſitudes, produced a ſtile of manners, and ſtamped a character on the inhabitants of this Duchy, different from what prevails in any other [164] part of Italy; and nice obſervers imagine they per⯑ceive in Milaneſe manners, the politeneſs, formality, and honeſty imputed to theſe three nations, blended with the ingenuouſneſs natural to the Italians. The company aſſembles every evening in their car⯑riages on the ramparts, and drive about in the ſame manner as in the other cities of Italy, till it is pretty late. In Italy the ladies have no notion of quit⯑ting their carriages, and uſing their legs as in Eng⯑land and France. On ſeeing the number of ſer⯑vants, and the ſplendour of the equipages, which appear every evening at the Corſo on the ramparts, one would not ſuſpect the degree of depopulation and diminution of wealth, which we are aſſured has taken place within theſe few years all over the Milaneſe; and which is ſaid, to proceed from the burthenſome nature of ſome late taxes, and the inſolent and oppreſſive manner in which they are gathered.

Keyſler remarks that the viciſſitudes this ſtate has undergone, have introduced a much more ſocial and free way of living than in the South parts of Italy; to this the fertility of the country, and wealth of the nobility, do not a little contribute. The ladies can hardly be under leſs reſtraint, even in France, than they are here. During the carnival, women of the firſt faſhion are accuſtomed [165] to give magnificent entertainments, even at public taverns; to avoid the inconvenience and charges, with which ſuch entertainments would be attend⯑ed at their own houſes. Their huſbands ſeem per⯑fectly eaſy, with regard to their feſtivities, either from puſillanimity or a confidence in their virtue and diſcretion; and ſome are ſo paſſionately fond of their wives, as to grudge nothing that may con⯑tribute to their ſatisfaction and pleaſure.

The woman of the lower claſs, imitate their bet⯑ters as near as they can, and indulge themſelves in liberties, which in other parts of Italy are denied them; here alſo, as in Paris, trade is moſtly ma⯑naged by women, who amuſe themſelves with ſewing or embroidering; and the ſhops, though they are quite open, while the ſeaſon permits, are the places of rendezvous, for a great deal of company. Even in convents the auſterities of a monaſtic life are ſo far relaxed, that a traveller may not only talk, rally, and laugh with the nuns at the grate, but join in a concert with them, and ſpend a whole, afternoon in theſe familiarities.

The Lombards poſſeſs the ſkill to pleaſe, with⯑out feigning; and, ſo artleſs are their manners, they cannot even be ſuſpected of inſincerity. They have, perhaps, for that very reaſon, few comedies [166] and fewer novels among them; for the worſt of every man's character is already known to the reſt; but be his conduct what it will, the heart is com⯑monly right enough, il buon cuor Lombardo, is famed throughout Italy, and nothing can become pro⯑verbial, without an excellent reaſon. Little oppor⯑tunity is therefore given to writers who carry the dark lanthorn of life into its deepeſt receſſes—un⯑veil the hidden wickedneſs of a Maſkwell or a Monkton—develope the folds of vice, and ſpy out the internal worthleſſneſs of apparent virtue; which from theſe diſcerning eyes cannot be cloaked, even by that early taught affectation, which renders it a real ingenuity, to diſcover, if in a highly poliſhed capital, a man or woman has or has not good parts or principles; ſo completely are the firſt overlaid with literature, and the laſt perverted by refine⯑ment.

No houſe-account, no weekly bills perplex the peace of a Milaneſe lady of faſhion. If eight ſervants are kept, ſuppoſe ſix of theſe men, (and two of them out of livery,) the pay of theſe principal figures in the family when, at the higheſt rate, is fifteen pence Engliſh a day, out of which they find cloaths, and eating. The dinners dreſt at home, are, for this reaſon, more exactly contrived than in England, to ſuit the number of gueſts, [167] and there are always half a dozen; for dining alone, or the maſter and miſtreſs téte-a-téte, as we do, is unknown to them, who make ſociety very eaſy, and reſolve to live much together. No odd ſenſation then, ſomething like ſhame, ſuch as we feel when too many diſhes are taken empty from table, touches them at all; the common courſes are 11, and a 11 ſmall plates, and it is their ſport and pleaſure, if poſſible, to clear all away. A foot⯑man's wages is a ſhilling a day, like our common labourers, and paid him, as they are paid, every Saturday night. His livery in the mean time, changed twice a year, makes him as rich a man as the butler or valet, but when evening comes, it is the moſt comical ſight in the world, to ſee them all go gravely home, and a perſon may die in the night for want of help, though ſurrounded by ſhowy attendants all day. Till the hour of depar⯑ture it is expected that two or three of them at leaſt, ſit in the anti-chamber to anſwer the bell, which is no flight ſervice, or hardſhip; for the ſtairs, high and wide as thoſe of Windſor palace, run up from the door immediately to that apartment, which is very large and very cold, with bricks only to ſet their feet on, and a brazier filled with warm wood aſhes, to keep their fingers from freezing. In ſummer theſe gentry employ their time in cards, which they ſeem but little inclined to lay down [168] when ladies paſs through to the receiving room. The ſtrange familiarity this claſs of people aſſume, half joining in the converſation, and crying oibo, or oh dear! when their maſter affirms ſomething to which they do not quite aſſent, is apt to ſhock one in the beginning; the more when one reflects upon the equally offenſive humility they ſhew, on being firſt accepted into the family; when it is ex⯑pected that they receive the new maſter or lady's hand, in a half kneeling poſture, and kiſs it as wo⯑men under the rank of Counteſs, do the Queen of England, when preſented at our court. This ob⯑ſequiouſneſs however, vaniſhes completely upon acquaintance, and the footman if not very, ſeriouſly admoniſhed, yawns, ſpits, and diſplays, ſays Mrs. Piozzi, what one of our travel-writers emphati⯑cally calls, his flag of abomination, behind the chair of a woman of quality, without the ſlighteſt ſenſation of its impropriety. There is, however, a ſort of odd farcical drollery mingled with this groſſneſs, which tends greatly to diſarm ones wrath; and I felt myſelf more inclined to laugh than be angry, when from the head of my own table I ſaw the ſervant of a nobleman cramming ſome chicken pattés down his throat behind the door, our own folks humourouſly trying to choak him, by pretend⯑ing his Lord called him, while his mouth was full. Of a thouſand comical things in the ſame way, [145] ſays the above lady, I will relate one. Mr. Piozzi's valet was dreſſing my hair one morning at Paris, while ſome man ſate at an oppoſite window of the ſame inn, ſinging and playing upon the violincello, I had obſerved the circumſtance, but my perruc⯑chieres diſtreſs was evident; he writhed and twiſted about like a man pinched with the cholic, and made a hundred queer faces; at laſt—What is the matter Ercolani, ſaid I, are you not well? Miſtreſs, replied the fellow, if that beaſt don't leave off ſoon I ſhall run mad with rage, or die; and ſo you'll ſee an honeſt Venetian lad killed by a French dog's howling.

The phraſe of miſtreſs is here not confined to ſervants at all; gentlemen, when they addreſs a lady, ſay mia padrona, mighty ſweetly, and in a peculiar pleaſing tone. Nothing can exceed, ſays Mrs. P. the agreeableneſs of a well-bred Italian's addreſs, when ſpeaking to a lady, whom they alone know how to flatter, ſo as to retain her dignity, and not loſe their own; reſpectful, yet tender; attentive, but not officious; the politeneſs of a man of faſhion here is true politeneſs, free from all affectation, and honeſtly expreſſive of what he really feels, a true value for the perſon ſpoken to, without the ſmalleſt deſire of ſhining himſelf; equally removed from foppery on one ſide, and indifference on the other. [168] [...] [145] [...] [146] The manners of the men here are certainly pleaſing, in a very eminent degree, and in their converſation there is a mixture, not unfrequent too, of claſſical alluſions, which ſtrikes one with a ſort of literary pleaſure, not eaſily to be deſcribed. Yet is there no pedantry in their uſe of expreſſions, which with us would be laughable, or liable to cenſure; but Roman notions are not quite extinct; and even the houſe-maid, or Donna di gros, as they call her, ſwears by Diana ſo comically there is no expreſſing it. They chriſten very commonly their boys Fa⯑bius, and their daughters Claudia.

Their uniformity of dreſs here pleaſes the eye, and the cuſtom of going veiled to church, and al⯑ways without a hat, which they conſider as a pro⯑fanation of the temple, as they call it, delights one much; it has an air of decency in the individuals, of general reſpect for the place, and of a reſolution not to let external images intrude on devout thoughts.

Though family connexions are prized very highly here, no man ſeems aſhamed that he has no family to boaſt: all ſeigning indeed would be uſeleſs and im⯑practicable; yet it ſtrikes one with aſtoniſhment to hear a well-bred clergyman ſay, gravely to his friend, and that friend eminent both for talent and for⯑tune, [147] "Yes, there is a grand invitation at ſuch a place to night, but I do not go becauſe non ſono cavaliere, and the maſter deſired me to let you know that it was for no other reaſon you had not a card too, my good friend; for it is an invitation for none but the nobles." At all this no one ſtares, ſays Mrs. P. no one laughs, and no ones throat is cut in conſequence of their ſincere declarations.

The women, ſays the above lady, are not behind hand in openneſs of confidence, and what Mrs. P. calls comical ſincerity. We have all heard much of Italian Ciciſbeiſm, ſays ſhe, and having a mind to know how matters really ſtood, I took the ſhorteſt way to information, by aſking a mighty beautiful and apparently young creature how that affair was managed, for there is no harm done, I am ſure, ſaid I. Why no, replied ſhe, no great harm to be ſure, except weariſome attentions from a man one cares little about; for my own part, continued ſhe, I deteſt the cuſtom, as I happen to love my huſband exceſſively, and deſire no ones company in the world but his. We are not people of faſhion, though you know, nor at all rich; ſo how ſhould we ſet faſhions for our betters? They would only ſay, ſee how jealous he is! if my huſband ſat much with me at home, or went with me to the Corſo; and I muſt go with ſome gentleman you know: [148] and the men are ſuch ungenerous creatures, and have ſuch ways with them:—I want money often, and this cavaliere ſervante pays the bills, and ſo the connection draws cloſer—that's all. And your huſband! ſaid I,—Oh, why he likes to ſee me well dreſſed; he is very good-natured, and very charm⯑ing; I love him to my heart. And your confeſſor! cried I.—Oh, why he is uſed to it; in the Milaneſe dialect é aſſuefaà.

Were the cruſt of Britiſh affectation lifted off many a character at home, I know not whether better, that is, honeſter hearts would be found under it, than that of this pretty girl.

Ladies of diſtinction bring with them when they marry, beſides fortune, as many cloaths as will laſt them ſeven years; for faſhions do not change here as often as at London, or Paris; yet is pin-money allowed, and an attention paid to the wife that no Engliſhwoman can form an idea of: in every fa⯑mily her duties are few; for houſehold management falls to the maſters ſhare of courſe, when almoſt all the ſervants are men, and thoſe paid by the week or day. Children are very ſeldom ſeen by thoſe who viſit great houſes; if they do come down for five minutes after dinner, the parents are talked of as doting on them, and nothing can equal the pious [149] and tender returns made to fathers and mothers in this country, for even an apparently moderate ſhare of fondneſs ſhewn to them in a ſtate of infancy.

A woman here, in every ſtage of life, has a degree of attention ſhewn her that is ſurpriſing—if conju⯑gal diſputes ariſe in a family, ſo as to make them become what is called the town-talk, the public voice is ſure to run againſt the huſband; if ſepara⯑tion enſues, all poſſible countenance is given to the wife, while the gentleman is ſomewhat leſs willingly received, and all the ſtories of diſguſt related to his prejudice; nor will the lady, whom he wiſhes to ſerve, look very kindly on a man who treats his own wife with unpoliteneſs. Che cuore deve avere! ſays ſhe; what a heart muſt he have! Io non mene fido ſicuro. I ſhall take care not to truſt him.

The ordinary people in Lombardy are well cloathed, fat, ſtout, and merry; and deſirous to divert themſelves, and their protectors, whom they love at their hearts. There is however a degree of effrontery among the women that ſeems amazing; and of which, ſays Mrs. P. I had no idea, till a friend ſhewed me, one evening at the opera, 50 or 100 petty ſhop-keepers wives, diſperſed about the pit, and dreſſed in mens cloaths, per diſempagno, that they might be more at liberty to clap, hiſs, [150] quarrel, joſtle, &c. In this city, however, no fe⯑male profeſſors of immorality and open libertinage, diſgraceful at once and pernicious to ſociety, are permitted to range the ſtreets in queſt of prey, to the horror of all thinking people, and the ruin of all heedleſs ones.

In moſt of the Milaneſe inns, however, according to Keyſler, a young traveller ſeldom eſcapes being aſked whether he is for a letto fornito, the mean⯑ing of which is a female bed-fellow, who never unmaſks till ſhe comes into the bed-chamber. Beſides the ſin, which alas! is little regarded, to what an extreme riſque is his health thus expoſed, while it depends upon the ſcandalous choice of the mercenary cameriere or the landlord.

CHAP. XIX. Commerce, &c.

MILAN is to this day the centre of a com⯑merce requiring large capitals, and which ſome of the wealthieſt houſes have engroſſed as a [151] clandeſtine company. Its principal article is raw ſilk. The company foreſtalls this at the time of the crop, from cottage to cottage, and ſometimes before. Private houſes carrying on this trade, in⯑dependent of the company, find it to their advan⯑tage to ſell their ſilk according to the price regu⯑lated by the company. All competition being thus quaſhed and ruined, and the ſilk-cultivator, obliged to accept what price the buyers fix, turns his induſ⯑try to more profitable objects: inſtead therefore of new plantations and new improvements, the old are neglected and run to ruin.

The chief of the Milan manufactures are gold and ſilver laces, embroideries in gold and ſilver, tinſel and thread laces, theſe are chiefly kept up by the Italian ſobriety, the low price of proviſions, and conſequently the low price of work.

This city alſo vends a prodigious quantity of ſilk handkerchiefs, excellently manufactured; and by the Italians accounted an approved amulet againſt ſore throats, which from the moiſtneſs of the air are very common in Lombardy. Theſe handkerchiefs are part of the diſhabille of the princes and noble⯑men; but the trading or lower people are never without them at home or abroad. In the ſummer⯑time they have them waving on their ſhoulders, [152] and uſe them to wipe the ſweat from their faces; but in the morning and evening they take them in, and tie them very cloſe and carefully round their necks.

They have alſo a large manufacture of cryſtal, which is found, with great riſque, in the Alps, and is made into ſnuff-boxes, luſtres, looking-glaſſes, &c. The largeſt looking-glaſs that was ever made of one piece of cryſtal, is a foot in breadth, and a foot and an half in length. At Milan alſo, as at Bologna and Verona, moſt curious artificial flowers are made of paper, wax, feathers, cotton, ſturgeons ſkin, exactly reſembling nature, and in this art the nuns particularly excel.

It is obſervable that in this large city gun-pow⯑der is ſold only in one place, and by one perſon.

The cuſtoms and duties are no where on ſo bad a footing as at Milan; a ſmall gratuity to the of⯑ficers who importunately aſk it, puts an end to all farther ſearch and queſtions; whereas, in Piedmont the extreme ſeverity on this head often puts travel⯑lers to a great deal of unneceſſary delay and trouble.

Milan being by its ſituation the natural ſtaple of Switzerland, part of Germany, France, and [153] Italy, the diſtribution of all the goods to be con⯑veyed from one of theſe countries into another, makes a ſecondary branch of buſineſs with ſeveral houſes. All goods going from France and Switzer⯑land are carried on mules; and what is ſent from Milan into the internal parts of Italy goes by water. The moſt valuable goods are carried in chaiſes or cambiaturas, theſe carriages are of ſuch conſtruc⯑tion, and hung ſo that they carry a great deal be⯑hind, without any inconvenience to the horſes. The waggoners, who ſwarm on the great roads of France, are in Italy employed only in carrying the baggage of the cardinals, or other great men, who have occaſion to paſs through the country. The many charges attending any kind of tranſportation conſtitutes the riches of the Milan brokers; and their intereſt being likely to be affected by it, is the chief obſtacle to the ſetting up of waggons in Italy; the danger of the roads is the pretended ob⯑ſtacle; but why ſhould roads be more dangerous for five or ſix waggoners travelling in company than for as many chaiſes?

Another branch of trade is the furniſhing travel⯑lers with carriages, and this city lays moſt of them, even the moſt cautious, more or leſs under contri⯑bution; they are told that only croſſing the Alps ruins a carriage, that the French poſt-chaiſes, [154] either in winter or ſummer, will not do for the roads of Italy, and that they require a chaiſe ſo contrived as to be taken to pieces and put together in an inſtant, and by any perſons; now the Milan carriages, beſides thoſe conveniences, are both light and ſtrong, the wood and leather of a good quality, together with the advantage of carrying a great deal without overloading the horſes.

Laſtly, the produce of the rice-grounds, in the Milaneſe, is very conſiderable. The rice grows in fields all under water, which riſes with the plant, ſo that during the whole time of its growth only the top appears above water. The numberleſs ca⯑nals which interſect Lombardy, induce the landed men to this culture, which indeed has been carried ſo far that all the Milaneſe is like to become one rice-ground, that is one continual fen; unleſs go⯑vernment puts ſome limitation to this culture; ex⯑perience having ſhewn the noxious effects of the air from rice-grounds, and which daily become more noxious from their vaſt increaſe. Even in times when theſe grounds were but thinly ſcattered, the villages, which lay north or eaſt of them, were every year viſited with ſome contagious diſeaſe; and the greater part of the peaſants employed in this culture become dropſical, and die before they reach forty.

[155]The regular forces now in this duchy amounts to eighteen thouſand men, the greateſt part of whoſe cloathing, arms, and other neceſſaries, come from Germany, to the no ſmall diſcontent of the Mila⯑neſe, who think it hard that as the money for the payment of theſe troops is raiſed among them, it ſhould not again be laid out and circulated in their country.

The city council is compoſed of a preſident and ſixty members, all nobles, and independent of the Governor. The Spaniards are ſaid, in peaceable times, to have raiſed two millions of dollars in the Milaneſe.

In the Milaneſe territories juſtice is adminiſtered by the Roman law, with ſome modification of cuſ⯑toms and ſtatutes. Moſt of theſe ſtatutes are of the reign of the good King Lewis XII. whoſe name they accordingly bear. Theſe ſtatutes in ſucceſſion have eſtabliſhed the law of equality, which the no⯑bility itſelf can elude only by entails, or the acqui⯑ſition of lands in countries, where this law is not in force.

Since Milan has been governed only by a ſecon⯑dary authority, juſtice has loſt much of that vigour, which the ſovereigns preſence generally ſecures to [156] it. Deſpair, and oftentimes an impoſſibility of ob⯑taining it, puts people on doing themſelves juſtice. The magiſtrate winks at the effects of private ven⯑geance, and confines himſelf to the prohibition of ſtillettos and pocket-piſtols. The diſpatch and impartiality in which juſtice is rendered in France, and the northern ſtates, remove all apprehenſions from ſuch weapons, which in any country where juſtice ſhall become venal, tedious or expenſive, would be as common as in Italy.

CHAP. XX. The Duchy of Mantua.

THIS duchy, encompaſſed by thoſe of Milan and Modena, the territories of the Pope and the Venetians, is not more than between 50 and 60 miles in extent, and about 40 in breadth.

[157]It formerly had dukes of its own, but ſince the commencement of this century, the Imperialiſts over-run the whole duchy, which has ever ſince been in poſſeſſion of the Houſe of Auſtria, and is at preſent annexed to the Milaneſe government.

This duchy abounds in corn, fruit, flax, ſilk, and cattle. The ſoil is extremely fertile, but its depth and ſoftneſs occaſions the roads to be almoſt im⯑paſſable in winter. In ſummer the verdure of the fields and meadows, divided by beautiful rows of trees, with abundances of vines twining round the trunks and branches, renders travelling delightful. The great number of nightingales that frequent this tract of land by their plaintive warblings, makes the charming ſcene ſtill more enchanting. Indeed, ſays Keyſler, a perſon who makes any ſtay in Italy is ſo accuſtomed to fine proſpects and enchanting land-ſcapes, that in time they grow familiar to the eye, and are leſs regarded than when they firſt pre⯑ſented themſelves to view.

Mantua, the capital of the duchy, lies on a lake formed by the inundation of the Mincio, which is 20 miles in circumference, and two broad. The two chief bridges leading to this city are defended by citadels, with fortifications at both ends. The city is divided by the water into two almoſt equal [158] parts, having a communication with each other over ſix bridges, and is about four miles in circum⯑ference. In the heat of ſummer, when the lake is low and ſtagnate, the air becomes ſo noxious that the better ſort of inhabitants retire into the country. The greater part of the ſtreets are long, broad, and ſtrait, with handſome ſtone houſes, and ſtately churches. The population is eſtimated only at 20,000. Seven thouſand Jews occupy a third part of the city, have a ſynogogue, and live after their own faſhion. The population was formerly com⯑puted at 50,000, excluſive of the garriſon; but ſince there has been no court kept here, the number of inhabitants has been gradually decreaſing. What contributes moſt to keep the city alive at preſent, is its annual fair, which is very much reſorted to. The theatres are very beautiful, and the ſmall one eſpecially is on an elegant plan.

There are 18 pariſh churches at Mantua, and 14 convents. The cathedral is ſpacious, and has five aiſles. Guilio Romano was the architect, and alſo painted the tribuna, with a part of the ceiling. In the upper ſacriſty is a night-piece of the temptation of S. Antony, by Paola Veroneſe. The church of S. Antony is more famous for relics than any in Mantua; a conſiderable portion, as is pretended, of the blood of Chriſt, being kept in a ſubterra⯑neous [159] chapel, and once every year ſhewn to the people.

The ducal gallery and muſeum, formerly ſo fa⯑mous, was pillaged by the ſoldiers, when the Im⯑perialiſts took the city, by ſtorm. At that time a common ſoldier was ſo lucky as to get a booty of 80,000 ducats; but ſo bad an economiſt as to game it all away in one night, for which Colalto, the Im⯑perial general, hanged him the next day. Some apartments in the caſtle are ſtill worth ſeeing, the ceiling being painted, by J. Guilio Romano.

Mantua is an epiſcopal ſee, immediately depen⯑dent on the Pope. The ſilk and other manufactures, with its general commerce, formerly ſo flouriſhing, ſays Buſching, are now but inconſiderable.

About two miles from this city is La Virgiliana, a ducal manor-houſe, ſo called from the grotto where Virgil is ſaid to have paſſed the ſtudious hours of his youthful days.

CHAP. XXI. The Duchies of Parma and Placentia.

THESE have always been united. To the north and the weſt they terminate on the Milaneſe, to the ſouth on the Genoeſe territories; and to the caſt on the Duchy of Modena. They are between 50 and 60 miles in length, and nearly as much in breadth.

The ſoil is exceedingly fertile, eſpecially in the production of olive-trees, large trufles, and cheſ⯑nuts. The paſtures and cattle are alſo very fine particularly about Placentia, where the meadows can be laid under water from a ſmall river, with a ſlimy water which fertilizes the ground. The cele⯑brated Parmeſan cheeſe is no longer made in this country; but rather at Lode, Bologna, and ſome other parts. The two principal cities in theſe tetri⯑tories are Parma and Placentia.

Parma is a large populous city, with ſpacious ſtreets, and a great number of handſome houſes, [161] which the Italians dignify, according to cuſtom, with the name of palaces. The little river, Parma, which falls into the Po, a few miles below the city, divides it into two parts, communicating with each other by three ſtone bridges. Its circuit is about four Italian miles; the citadel very much reſembles that of Antwerp.

The ducal palace, which has nothing very ſtrik⯑ing in its architecture, lies on the ſouth ſide of the town, and has a communication with the citadel over a bridge. The gallery, formerly ſo remarkable for its ineſtimable collection of paintings, medals, antiquities, and other curioſities, together with the library, was ſtripped by the late King of Spain, when he came to take poſſeſſion of this duchy, and every thing of value removed to Naples, where it ſtill lays in confuſion at Capo de Monte; ſo that the object moſt worthy of notice, in this city, is the great theatre, built by Duke Renatus, in 1618. This theatre is ſaid to be the largeſt of any in Europe, and capable of holding, according to La Lande, 12,000 perſons. It is built in the form of the Roman am⯑phitheatre. What is very ſingular in its conſtruc⯑tion, and, which, though remarked by every one, no perſon has yet been able to account for, is, that a word ſpoken ever ſo low on the ſtage, may be diſtinctly heard in every part of the pit, and yet [162] the greateſt elevation of the voice, ſays Addiſon, occaſions no echo, to cauſe in it the leaſt confuſion.

The illumination of this theatre being very ex⯑penſive, a ſmaller one has been erected for com⯑mon uſe, in a ſaloon adjoining to it; and this has a pit large enough to contain 2000 ſpectators.

The gardens of the palace are admired for the grottos, fountains, caſcades, walks, ſtatues, and other embelliſhments.

Beſides the univerſity erected by Duke Rainu⯑tius I. in 1599, he alſo founded, in 1601, an aca⯑demy for perſons of noble families, in which young ſtudents from their childhood are inſtructed, not only in grammar, the claſſics, rhetoric, philoſophy, mathematics, geography, hiſtory, divinity, the civil, feodal, and canon laws; but, likewiſe in the Ger⯑man, French, and Spaniſh languages; in muſic, painting, fortification, dancing, fencing, vaulting, and riding. The annual allowance to each ſtudent for board, lodging, and tuition, is about 25 pounds a year. The riding-ſchool is furniſhed with horſes from the duke's ſtables. The foundation admits of 250 ſtudents. Youths of all nations are received here indiſcriminately; but with regard to birth, they [163] muſt be noble, and ſuch as are capable of being admitted among the knights of Malta.

The morning lectures generally take up two hours and a half; and thoſe of the afternoon about three. The ſtudents are divided into claſſes of 10 or 13; each of which has a ſervant and a monitor, who muſt be an eccleſiaſtic. When they walk about the city, the ſtudents are dreſſed in black; but in hunting, and during the feſtivities, in autumn, they are allowed to wear cloaths of any colour. That ſtudent who ſignalizes himſelf moſt by his exerciſes, is ſtiled Principe, and has a particular reſpect paid him by the reſt. He alſo wears a medal hanging to a purple ribbon, with a ſilver border, on his breaſt.

There are two elegant theatres in the college, in one of which the ſtudents act plays during the car⯑nival. The autumn vacation they ſpend at one of the duke's country ſeats, in fiſhing, hunting, and other innocent paſtimes; but under the care of proper directors; nor are their ſtudies entirely laid aſide during this ſeaſon. The duke and the prin⯑cipal nobility of the city lend their coaches and horſes to carry the ſtudents into the country; and at the expiration of the time allotted them, they are brought back in the ſame manner.

[164]The ſituation of Parma, ſays Groſsley, is delight⯑ful; and the paintings in its public edifices afford moſt exquiſite entertainment; being filled with maſter-pieces of art, by Corregio, his rivals, and diſciples.

The aſſumption, in the cupola of the dome, coſt that immortal artiſt his life. Having given him⯑ſelf up to the force of his imagination, he hazarded ſome bold flights, which are the aſtoniſhment and admiration of the greateſt maſters of our days, but diſpleaſed the canons, who had beſpoke the piece. Though the price was but ſlender, they would have it that they had been impoſed upon; and, beſides an arbitrary deduction, they paid him the remainder in copper, which poor Corregio was forced to take on his back, and carry ſix or ſeven miles to an old country-houſe, where he had his workſhop. The incumbrance of the burthen, the heat of the day, and the diſtance, together with the indignation and fretfulneſs at being ſo deceived, brought on a pleu⯑riſy, of which he died three days after, at the age of forty.

The cathedral and ſeveral other churches, in Parma, are covered with freſcos, by this artiſt. Thoſe of the cathedral repreſent virtues perſonated by women, in attitudes very elegantly varied. [165] Theſe figures are attired, but without hiding any ſtroke of nudity, and exhibit more graces than ſeem to comport with the ſanctity of the edifice.

In one of the chapels was formerly that piece ſo much the admiration of connoiſſeurs, and in which Corregio is ſaid to have ſurpaſſed himſelf: It is a holy family with S. Jerome, and Mary Magdalen grouped into it. The Farneſian princes ſhewing a ſtrong deſire to add this piece to their immenſe col⯑lection, the canons took it down, and conveying it privately from one to another, ſecreted it for 40 years and more from the ſcrutinizing eyes of the different ſovereigns. On the demiſe of Anthony, the laſt Duke, they placed it among the moſt valuable curioſities of their treaſury, where it is now again viſible.

This picture is an aſſemblage of beauties, engag⯑ing to every eye; it ſpeaks to the mind in its ex⯑preſſion, delicacy, and action; and to the heart in its graces, ſoftneſs, and tenderneſs, which are ſtrik⯑ing even in the moſt minute circumſtances. Innu⯑merable copies have been made of this ſublime performance; and though by the moſt capital ar⯑tiſts, yet not one of them has been able to take the ſmile, which the Virgin Mary has on her counte⯑nance; [166] in moſt of theſe copies it degenerates into a ſneer.

The faſhion of Ciceſbeios, ſays L. Miller, is not baniſhed the polite ſocieties of Parma; for the ſole object of contracting marriage here, as in France, is intereſt. Young ladies at Parma are educated in convents, and brought out to be married when their parents have provided them a huſband. The chu⯑ſing for themſelves is unheard of, and would be eſteemed the moſt enormous licentiouſneſs. For which reaſon the ſtate deemed here the moſt happy, is that of a young rich widow.

The nobility of this place have a caſſino in which they aſſemble generally three times a week during the ceſſation of theatrical amuſements. The Duke provides the cards and lights, and two of his gen⯑tlemen do the honours of the caſſino. He ſome⯑times honours the meeting himſelf with his preſence and plays. This is a very economical, as well as a very agreeable amuſement, in a country where the nobleſſe are not uſed to have aſſemblies at their own houſes, and where the expence would be very incon⯑venient to them.

The cabinet of medals (ſince removed to Naples) conſiſts of 18,000 pieces, all of different dies; [167] though there are no fewer than 500 hundred of the Emperor Adrian. Over every medal is a little ticket, with black letters on a gold ground, ſhew⯑ing on what occaſion it was ſtruck, &c. Theſe medals are inſerted in copper rims glazed, ſo that by turning them, the reverſe may be viewed with⯑out taking them out of the ſockets. This collec⯑tion comes no lower down than the reign of Hera⯑clius; but the finis is continued in gold, ſilver, and copper pieces.

The diſtance from Parma to Placentia is about 33 Engliſh miles. About five miles from Parma is a ferry over the river Taro. This river is ſome⯑times very dangerous to paſs. What renders it ſo is its being ſwelled with heavy rains, which form⯑ing impetuous torrents, force their way through a light ſoil, and overflowing the banks of the river, form an unequal bed very difficult to ford, from the uncertainty of the bottom. This is the caſe with many of the rivers in Italy; and to comprehend how true it is that the Italian rivers ſuddenly change their bed, one may perceive the veſtiges of them now dry, which ſhew the force of the body of wa⯑ter that has excavated vaſt precipices and pits; to⯑gether with a great quantity of ſtone and ſand, that the water has brought down and thrown up into ridges. This change of the courſe of rivers fre⯑quently [168] happens in one night, as the people of the country affirm. A river fordable over-night, has by the next morning been ſo increaſed, from the addition of mountain torrents, as to render it im⯑paſſable; and ſhortly after, has ſhifted its place, leaving its old courſe in heaps of rubbiſh and deep hollows.

At a little diſtance from the paſſage over the Taro, are the two caſtles Guelfo and Gibellino. Both theſe caſtles derive their names from the two factions, the Guelphs and Gibellines, by which Germany and Italy were for a long time made a ſcene of ſlaughter and confuſion.

The whole of the country, between Piacenza and Parma, is a dead flat; the ſoil is exceedingly rich; the ground well cultivated, and planted with ſtrait rows of elms, at about the diſtance of 12 or 14 yards aſunder. Theſe form the moſt delightful viſtas imaginable, and what adds greatly to their beautiful appearance is, that the vines, ſuſtained by the elms, are conducted from tree to tree, forming the moſt graceful feſtoons. The ilex and the mul⯑berry-tree are frequently planted for the ſupport of the vine, as the elms are, and make a moſt agree⯑able variety. Between theſe rows of trees, the corn flouriſhes in the utmoſt luxuriance.

[169]Placentia by its ſituation, the breadth and regu⯑larity of its ſtreets and ſquares, the architecture of its palaces and public edifices, its noble paintings and ſculptures, and the fountains, that are ſuch em⯑belliſhments to theſe ſquares and edifices, would be one of the fineſt cities in all Lombardy, did not a want of inhabitants deprive it of the principal or⯑nament that a city can boaſt. It lies within 200 yards of the Po.

The cathedral and moſt of the churches are em⯑belliſhed with paintings of the greateſt maſters of the Bologna ſchool. But what travellers moſt ad⯑mire, are two equeſtrian ſtatues, in bronze, which ſtand in the great ſquare, before the town-houſe.

The beſt of the two repreſents that conſummate general Alexander Farneſe, Duke of Parma and Pla⯑centia, who commanded the army of Philip II. in the Netherlands. The inſcription, on the pedeſtal, mentions his having relieved the city of Paris, when called to the aſſiſtance of the league into France, where his great military ſkill, and cool in⯑trepidity, enabled him to baffle all the ardent im⯑petuoſity of the gallant Henry. He was certainly worthy of a better maſter, and of ſerving in a better cauſe. We cannot, without regret, behold a prince of the Duke of Parma's talents and character, ſup⯑porting [170] the pride of an unrelenting tyrant, and the cauſe of furious fanatics.

Except the ducal palace, and ſome pictures in the churches, it does not appear that there is a great deal in this city worthy of attention.

On the fifth of April, the annual fair commences here, which is reckoned the largeſt in all Italy. It laſts a fortnight. The ſtands and booths occupy a very large area, near the ducal palace, laid out in regular lanes or paſſages, which are covered with canvaſs, as a ſhelter both againſt rain and the heat of the ſun. The principal entertainment, during this ſeaſon of buſtle, is the Opera, the admiſſion into the pit of which coſts only ſix-pence. The firſt ſingers in Italy are engaged to perform in it. One inconvenience attending the performance to thoſe not accuſtomed to late hours is, that it does not begin till ten o'clock at night, and finiſhes about four in the morning.

Piacenza has given birth to ſome famous men; one of the moſt remarkable is the Cardinal Alberoni, who was many years prime miniſter at the court of Spain: he was born in 1664, in a miſerable cottage belonging to the ſuburbs: his father was a gardener, but ſo poor as to earn his bread by working in the [171] little gardens belonging to the citizens: however, in proceſs of time, he contrived ſo to puſh his for⯑tune as to procure himſelf a ſmall cure, which was to him then the utmoſt pinnacle of human felicity. The Duke de Vendome accidently coming to the ſight of him took a fancy to him, made him his chief aid-du-camp, ſecretary, confident, &c. From thence he roſe to be cardinal and prime miniſter of Spain. His ambition afterwards became his ruin, and conſtrained Philip to diſgrace and baniſh him.

After his fall he returned back to Piacenza where ſo much aſhamed was he of his birth, as never to have aſſiſted, nor even acknowledge, any of his re⯑lations, during his life nor at his death. He here lived in a private manner, and did no public or pri⯑vate acts of charity, unleſs the eſtabliſhment of a number of miſſionaries may be deemed as ſuch. He was conſiderably paſt eighty years old when he died. In the year 1746, he had the mortification to ſee his ſeminary battered by all the Spaniſh and Genoeſe artillery, which did not leave a ſingle wall ſtanding. On the Auſtrians taking poſſeſſion of his. ſeminary, he withdrew to Piacenza in an apartment, the whole furniture of which was a bed, a table, and four chairs, where, ſays Groſsley, a friend of mine ſaw him with a little pot boiling in the chimney, over the ſmall fire of an apricot tree, cut that very [172] day in the court-yard of the houſe, to which his apartment belonged; neither his money nor his in⯑tereſt having been able to procure him a faggot.

The cardinal was, at that time, above fourſcore, yet without any of the infirmities of old age. He ſpoke Italian, French, or Spaniſh, according to the affairs or perſons he was talking of; and in theſe three languages expreſſed himſelf with equal energy and vivacity; his reflections he uſually backed with ſome maxims of Tacitus, which he always quoted in Latin.

The excellence of the Parmeſan cheeſe, ſo cele⯑brated at all the elegant tables in Europe, proceeds from the excellent paſtures in this country; parti⯑cularly thoſe about Placentia, where the meadows may be watered during the whole ſummer at plea⯑ſure, by means of ſluices which convey water from the Po. Beſides the waters of that river are im⯑pregnated with a ſlimy ſubſtance, which proves a very good manure to the grounds that they over⯑flow. The cows here yield an uncommon quantity of milk, ſo that in a good ſeaſon the milk of fifty cows will make a rich cheeſe of a hundred weight every day. But within a few miles of this fertile track of land, which does not extend above ten Italian miles in length, the cows do not yield ſuch [173] plenty of milk as they do in the Parmeſan: nor is it ſo rich. But as in Germany great quantities of Dutch cheeſes are ſold which never were in Hol⯑land, ſo likewiſe many thouſand pounds of cheeſe made in Lodi, Bologna, &c. paſs under the name of Parmeſan; eſpecially as the Milaneſe peaſants about Lodi, have the like advantage of watering their meadows ſo as to mow them four or five times a year. There are three kinds of Parmeſan cheeſe: and it is in its greateſt perfection when it is three or four years old; and that which crumbles, in cut⯑ting, is reckoned the beſt.

At Vianino, near the Apennine mountains, a very palatable cheeſe is made of ſheeps milk.

The peaſants in this duchy appear gay, and not poor; the women are very prettily dreſſed, wearing ſmall ſtraw hats, ornamented with knots of ribbon of various colours, with a bunch of flowers over all, or a large black feather; and ſometimes covering the crown of the hat with a bit of fine fur, which produces a ſingular effect. By this means of dreſ⯑ſing, they have a fine air of the head; and being generally well made and handſome, or rather of ſenſible and agreeable countenances, their appear⯑ance is very different from that of any other pea⯑ſants.

[174]By the laws of Placentia, children ſhare equally, even in noble inheritance. This equality being the palladium of democratical ſtates, and the ſinew of induſtry in commercial towns, might ſuit Placentia before it came under the dominion of the Farneſe family; but ſince that aera, the manufactures being decayed, and the nobility having given over com⯑merce, this equallity, by ſub-dividing the fortunes of the nobility ad infinitum, has deprived the country of that reſource which it would have found in the eaſy circumſtances of the nobles, and filled the country with a race of counts and titled ſlaves, whoſe dignity is of little weight, without the additional ſupport of wealth.

The inquiſition is now ſuppreſſed in this duchy, and the churches now no longer afford an aſylum to robbers and murderers. Aſſaſſinations and rob⯑beries which were formerly very frequent, are now in conſequence, become very rare. What ſeems ſingular is, that the former, according to Lady Miller, are not always puniſhed with death, unleſs the provocation has been of conſiderable ſtanding, and then pardon ſeldom follows; but if a man is killed through a guſt of ſudden paſſion, the galleys or long impriſonment is generally the puniſhment. They diſcourage as much as poſſible, both in Parma and Placentia, all women of the profeſſion of ſtreet [175] walkers, an inn-keeper being puniſhable for ſuffer⯑ing them to lodge in his houſe. The Governor of Placentia is extremely vigilant in regard to them, and as ſoon as they are diſcovered, has them driven out of the town.

The police in both theſe cities, ſtrictly examine all thoſe who enter or go out of them. They not only take down the name, from whence they came, and whither they are going, but likewiſe make a ſhort deſcription of their perſon, ſo that a perſon may be known by it. They are ſo clever at this, that the ſhorteſt time is ſufficient for their pur⯑poſe.

The Commis of the gates having taken the names, deſcriptions, and number of perſons, not excepting the ſervants, enter them at a bureau or office for that purpoſe. The inn-keeper alſo takes the names down, and ſends them to the ſame bureau, where if the entry made at the gate, does not tally with that ſent from the inn, a buſtle immediately enſues, and an examination into the miſtake.

We are told, that an Engliſh gentleman, tired of repeating his name ſo often, by way of fun, choſe to vary it, and ſaid he was called Punchinello; this gave ſuch an alarm to the police, that he was purſued, [176] taken, and impriſoned; it was at S. Marino, where he remained, till one of our Engliſh reſidents being apprized of his mauvaiſe plaiſanterie, cleared up the matter, and procured his enlargement.

The revenues of the Duke of Parma, are computed at between 5 or 600,000 crowns. It is ſaid, the ſalt works alone, all charges deducted, yield above 50,000. They are carried on at Salſo, about 24 miles from Parma, where there are 12 wells or pits of ſalt water, which are above 200 ells in depth.

CHAP. XXXII. Of the Dukedom of Modena.

The dukedom of Modena, ſurrounded by the duchies of Parma and Mantua, the eccleſiaſtical territories, the duchy of Florence, and the republic of Lucca, is 56 miles in extent from north to ſouth, and from eaſt to weſt, between 24 and 36.

[177]The territory of this duchy, is a fertile plain, wa⯑tered by the Po, the Panaro, the Secchia, and Lenza, and every where planted in almoſt a continual quincunx, with ſtately elms, and on each, one or two large vines. The extremities of theſe ſpreading vines, reaching ſo as to be interlaced, form in every interval an ample garland, the natural pro⯑minence of which, in the middle, probably gave the firſt hint of thoſe garlands or feſtoons among the ornaments of architecture.

It has been a cuſtom among the vintagers, time out of mind, when they are gathering grapes off theſe trees near a road, to ſalute all paſſengers, with⯑out any regard to ſex or rank, with every ſpecies of foul language and ribaldry, uſed in the moſt aban⯑doned places. An omiſſion of theſe vociferations would be accounted a neglect of their privileges; and even thoſe who at other times are diſcrete and well behaved, conform to this cuſtom; which may be traced back, even to the time of Horace, who deſcribes one of theſe foul-tongued vintagers.

The inhabitants have a method of preſerving ripe grapes from the vintage, till the month of Auguſt in the following year, by keeping them in little rooms, well ſecured againſt the external air, and the light of the ſun, and they never go into theſe ſtore-rooms [178] but with one ſmall candle, and that as ſel⯑dom as poſſible. The bunches are not laid upon the floor but hang ſeparate, being tied to a great number of ſmall ſticks; and when a ſingle grape has the leaſt appearance of decay or rottenneſs, it is plucked off to prevent the reſt from the infec⯑tion.

The horned cattle of this country are very large, and generally white. Six or eight oxen are here put to a carriage, with a great number of bells hang⯑ing about them, which make no diſagreeable noiſe. The deſign of this ſound is to cheer the creatures under their labour, and to give notice at a diſtance on the road that ſuch a carriage is coming.

This duchy abounds not only in excellent wine, but in corn, garden-fruits, and other productions. In ſome parts, particularly near Reggio, is found an excellent alkaline earth, which, being pulverized, is uſed as a ſovereign remedy againſt poiſon, fevers, dyſenteries, and hypocondriac diſorders.

The ſoil of the country, about Modena, ſays Keyſler, is of a ſingular conſtitution, and well de⯑ſerves the attention of the curious naturaliſt. It gives no ſmall weight to the opinion, that petrefactions are chiefly owing to the univerſal deluge. In every [179] part, not only of the city, but of the adjacent coun⯑try, plenty of good water is to be found; but the ground muſt be dug to the depth of 63 feet. For the firſt 14 feet are found large ſtones, which ſeem to be the remains of paved ſtreets and buildings; and from hence there is ſufficient reaſon to con⯑clude, that the foundations of this city were an⯑ciently much lower than they are at preſent. In the loweſt ſtratum, next the water, are found ſea-ſhells, and other indications of an inundation and deluge. This ſtratum is very firm; and by only boring a little way into it, great plenty of good water immediately ſprings up. In ſome of the in⯑termediate ſtrata are found ruſhes, leaves of plants, and branches of trees.

Modena, the capital, is ſituated agreeably in a plain; it is well built, and ornamented with foun⯑tains and arcades, which are really noble to walk under, in all the principal ſtreets. The churches are, for the moſt part, in a bad taſte. There is a public library well furniſhed with uſeful, though not with very curious books, and a moſt comfortable and elegant public room to ſtudy in. The number of inhabitants in this city are eſtimated at 23,000.

The ducal palace is by much the fineſt edifice here; it ſtands alone in a great piazza, and in the [180] beſt quarter of the town. The architecture is both majeſtic and elegant; the architect was Avanzini. The court is ſpacious, and ſurrounded by colonades, which have a fine effect. The great ſtair-caſe is in a noble ſtile of architecture, and makes a ſtriking appearance. The palace is full of very fine pic⯑tures, which to the majority of our readers, would be tedious to enumerate.

The duke chiefly takes up his reſidence at Milan: his partiality to the Engliſh is ſo great that even when at Modena he permits them to ſee the palace at any hour they think proper, without previous no⯑tice, and quite undreſſed; even boots are not ob⯑jected to: this is an excluſive privilege.

The troops of Modena are well dreſſed, and make a good appearance; they parade about with a ſtrong band of muſic, conſiſting of drums, fifes, hautboys, and French-horns. The Duke is ſaid to have 8000 men in conſtant array, and that upon occaſion he can bring 20,000 men into the field.

The moſt illuſtrious families are the houſes of Rangoni and Montecuculli. There are no remains of the families of thoſe petty tyrants who governed Modena before the houſe of Eſt were choſen for their ſovereigns.

[181]The Modeneſe ſeem a gay chearful people; have much genius for pantomine ſhows, and what is called pleaſure, or rather diſſipation. They are eſteemed gallant, and the ladies, and other females much inclined to coquetry. The nobleſſe imitate the French in their dreſs. The bourgeoiſe univer⯑ſally wear the zendalet, a piece of black ſilk, with which they cover their heads; and which, croſſing before, is finally tied behind their waiſts.

The principal employment of the lower claſs of people in this city, conſiſts in making maſks, for which they are more famous than in any other part of Italy. What little trade remains is from their fairs.

Modena is a very ancient city, and frequently mentioned in the Roman hiſtory. When Decius Brutus was beſieged here, Hertius made uſe of tame pigeons, (which by hunger he had trained up to this ſervice,) as meſſengers, to give the beſieged advice of his intentions, and to receive intelligence from Decius Brutus on their return. The memory of this device is perpetuated even to this very day at Modena, where pigeons are taught to carry let⯑ters to a place appointed, and bring back anſwers. Of what benefit theſe letter-carriers proved to the city of Leyden, when hard preſſed by the Spaniards, [182] is ſufficiently known from the hiſtory of the ſix⯑teenth century.

The city of Modena boaſts of having given birth to ſeveral eminent perſons, among whom they reckon Sigoni, the civilian and hiſtorian; Fallopi the phyſician, from whom certain tubes in the hu⯑man body derive their name: Corregio the painter; Aleſſandro Taſſoni the poet; and the Imperial general Montecuculli.

In the cathedral of Modena is ſhewn a very un⯑common trophy of the valour of the inhabitants, namely, a wooden bucket, with iron hoops, which the Modeneſe, (for what purpoſe is not mentioned,) brought away from Bologna, and keep as a memo⯑rial of their expedition to the capital city of their enemies. The war was originally occaſioned by the Bologneſe refuſing to reſtore ſome towns ac⯑cording to compact. As Geminianus was the pa⯑tron ſaint of Modena, and Petronius of Bologna, the contending parties were called Geminiani and Petroniani. Aleſſandro Taſſoni has ludicrouſly de⯑ſcribed the whole courſe of this war, in his moſt ingenious poems, entitled La ſecchia rapita; and to heighten the burleſque, he makes the Modeneſe give riſe to that bloody war by ſtealing this bucket.

[183]It was from this Modeneſe poet that the cele⯑brated Boileau took the hint for the Lutrin. The only fault in Taſſoni's burleſque poem, is a want of delicacy in ſome of his expreſſions, which are ſome⯑times ſo groſs as to offend a chaſte ear. The bucket, that has been thus immortalized, hangs in one of the towers of the cathedral by an iron chain; to come at it, a perſon muſt go through no leſs than ſix doors, and give a handſome gratuity be⯑ſides.

The road between Modena and Parma, is part of the ancient via Aemilia, and very pleaſant. It lies all along through gardens, and is planted on both ſides, with rows of white mulberry-trees. The whole plain conſiſts of plantations and inclo⯑ſures, every where ſeparated by rows of fruit trees and vines; ſo that few countries can form a richer ſcene, or yield a more beautiful landſcape to the eye.

GENOA.
CHAP. XX. Situation, Extent, City and Police, Productions, &c.

THE independent Republic of Genoa, beſides that long tract of land on the continent, which lies on the coaſt of an extenſive gulf in the Medi⯑terranean, anciently called Mare Liguſticum, was, till within theſe few years, poſſeſſed of the iſland of Corſica. At preſent its dominions are confined to the continent, and are in length, from weſt to eaſt, about 152 Engliſh miles; but, from north to ſouth, they are very narrow, in ſome parts only eight Engliſh miles, and in the broadeſt not above 20. They are bounded by the principality of Piedmont, the duchy of Milan, and the grand dukedoms of Tuſcany.

The land of this little territory, ſays Baretti, can neither boaſt paſtures covered with fat oxen, nor fields rich in corn and hemp, like Piedmont and Lombardy. It is a rocky country, almoſt without timber, and not abounding in wine: yet the inha⯑bitants [185] have no reaſon to envy their neighbours. For beſides their lemons and oranges, which yield a conſiderable ſum, they have a tree which makes them ample amends for whatever they may want. This tree is the olive, which thrives here perhaps better than in any part of the known world.

To give ſome idea of the advantage which the Genoeſe reap from their olive-trees, we will ſay, that on the weſtern extremity of their country there is an independant principality ſo ſmall that it may be leiſurely walked over in a morning.

This empire, in miniature, is little more $han ſix miles long, and only half a one in breadth, where it is broadeſt. And yet there are upon it two towns Monaco and Mentone, containing about 5000 in⯑habitants between them; a village with about 400 ſouls in it, and about 600 inhabitants more, who live in ſingle houſes and cottages, ſcattered up and down the mountains, which limit this principality on the north as the ſea does on the ſouth. It is not a little ſurpriſing that 6000 people ſhould find their ſuſtenance in a tract of land ſcarce four miles ſquare, at a diſtance from all populous towns. Yet it is ſtill more aſtoniſhing, that almoſt the whole of their ſupport ſhould ariſe from their oil, which they make in ſuch conſiderable quantities, that the thir⯑teenth [186] part which they pay in kind, as ſubjects, to their ſovereign, brings herein an income of about 4000 pounds ſterling: ſo that ſuppoſing all the owners of olive-trees faithful in giving the full thir⯑teenth part of their reſpective produce, the oil pro⯑duced by ſo ſmall a tract of land, muſt be worth between 50 and 60,000 pounds ſterling annually. We are therefore not to wonder, if the Genoeſe, many parts of whoſe territory, along that coaſt, are ſtill more valuable than the principality of Monaco, ſhould have many rich ſubjects: nor are we to won⯑der when we are informed, by different writers, that there are in Genoa ſeveral palaces ſo large and mag⯑nificent, as to be reſidences meet for kings and em⯑perors; nor to be aſtoniſhed that ſo ſmall a ſtate ſhould boaſt of ſeveral families, ſuch as the Doria, Spinola, Grimaldi, and others whoſe names are as well known as thoſe of the moſt illuſtrious perſons in the weſtern world. Where intrinſic and real riches abound, great buildings will be raiſed, and great families formed on the leaſt concurrence of induſtry, with a favourable turn of fortune.

Of the mountains, which occupy a great part of their country, ſome are covered with wood, ſome quite barren and rocky, and others yield good paſ⯑tures. Though the Genoeſe, on account of their want of arable land, are under the neceſſity of fur⯑niſhing [187] themſelves with great quantities of corn from Lombardy, Sicily, Naples, and other coun⯑tries; yet ſuch is their ſkill and induſtry in improv⯑ing a mountainous, rocky, and ſterile ſoil, that all the year round, Genoa is plentifully furniſhed with pulſe and garden-ſtuff, in their higheſt perfection. The country alſo produces both common and muſ⯑cadel wine, plenty of excellent fruit, and particu⯑larly in the weſtern part, lemons, oranges, pome⯑granates, figs, and almonds; beſides many large plantations of mulberry-trees, intended chiefly for ſilk-worms. The olives generally grow about Spe⯑tia bay: and, here it will not be amiſs to obſerve, that the olive-tree pretty much reſembles a willow, and makes but a mean appearance; that the beſt oil is white and tranſparent; that the deep yellow is made from over ripe olives, or from ſuch as have been kept too long, and that good oil has no ſmell, and is deſtitute of any kind of viſcid fatneſs. The virgin oil, by the ancients called green oil, is preſſed both from ripe and unripe olives; and is the whiteſt, moſt palatable, and in every reſpect the beſt.

And this ſerves, ſays Keyſler, to explain a paſſage in Suetonius, concerning Julius Caeſar's good-nature and condeſcenſion in eating old rancid oil, that he might not put the perſon who entertained him to [188] the bluſh by aſking for green oil which he had not provided. Some commentators are of opinion that David, to expreſs God's ſingular favours to him, makes uſe of the expreſſion in one of the pſalms, 'I am anointed with green oil,' as denoting the beſt kind of oil.

The oils of Sicily, Greece, and the Levant, are of ſuch a viſcid fatneſs as renders them much infe⯑rior to thoſe of Italy; and this again muſt yield to the Provence oil, of which great quantities are uſed for the tables of perſons of rank, both at Naples and Rome.

Salt ſo abounds throughout the country, that it can be ſpared for exportation, as can alſo the ſtone and marble in its quarries.

A great many rivers water theſe territories, but none are large enough to deſerve notice.

The ſituation of Genoa, is one of the moſt in⯑convenient, yet one of the moſt beautiful, of any city in Italy, or as Addiſon ſays, in the world: it is ſeen to the greateſt advantage, at the diſtance of a quarter of a league at ſea; its ſtately buildings, which have gained it the name of ſuperba, forming a glorious amphitheatre, gradually riſing along the hill. This declivity, and the narrowneſs of the [190] ſtreets, ſome of which are not above ſix feet wide, preclude the uſe of coaches in Genoa; every body contenting themſelves with going on foot, except the principal ladies, who are carried in chairs. To this narrowneſs of the ſtreets, it is owing that this city takes up ſo little of the plain before it. Ano⯑ther reaſon aſſigned for it is, that the loftineſs of the houſes, and the narrowneſs of the ſtreets, abate the ſummers exceſſive heats, by intercepting the ſun-beams, and thus tend to preſerve the healthfulneſs of the city. This alſo was the opinion of the old Romans, and there was ſome murmuring, when Nero, after the conflagration of the city, altered the former method, and ordered that the houſes ſhould neither be built ſo high as before, nor contiguous to each other. Some were of opinion, ſays Tacitus, that the ancient mode was more conducive to health, ſince by the narrowneſs of the ſtreets, and the height of the houſes, the heat of the ſun was in ſome meaſure broken; but that now, by the preſent open diſpoſition, the city is expoſed to all its vio⯑lence, without any thing to intercept the ſolar rays. The ſtreets are exceedingly well paved, and in ſome parts with free ſtone. There being no coaches nor other carriages in them, conduces not a little to their cleanneſs; beſides the barrenneſs of the neigh⯑bouring ſoil requiring great quantities of manure, the dung of horſes and mules is very carefully ga⯑thered [191] up. What the Arabs do out of ſuperſtition with regard to thoſe camels which have been in the Mecca caravans, the poor people here do from neceſſity, carefully picking up all the horſe and mule dung they meet with. This is chiefly ob⯑ſerved in the ſuburbs, where the breadth of the ſtreets admits the uſe of all kinds of wheel car⯑riages.

Genoa, obſerves Martyn, is built on the ſide of a mountain, in a ſemi-circle round the harbour. For magnificent buildings, and beauty of ſituation, it may vie with any city. It is ſurrounded by a double wall, one encompaſſing it immediately, the other taking in all the riſing grounds that command it. There is a moſt agreeable walk round the ramparts, from the convent of S. Antonio, to the fanale, or light-houſe. It is ſuppoſed to contain about 80,000 inhabitants. The ſtreets are crowded, the ſhops well furniſhed, and the markets abound in ex⯑cellent proviſions.

The whole range of rocks on the Genoeſe coaſt, is either ſlate or marble, and very ſteep. The in⯑duſtry of the inhabitants here, particularly in the environs of this city, made amends for the want of fertility in the mountains, which are in general co⯑vered with olives, vines, pomegranates, orange and [192] lemon trees; and adorned with buildings and gardens.

From the rocks projecting into the ſea, have been made ſeveral baſtions, in ſome places two or three behind each other, and the length of theſe fortifications, with the lower tower, is not leſs than three Italian miles. The number of guns mounted on all the works, for the defence of the city, is little ſhort of five hundred. This city is ten miles in circumference, and ſuch is the inequality of the country, that it takes up three hours to ride round it. Its wall is of too great ex⯑tent to be of any great ſervice, unleſs perhaps, in keeping out the banditti. On entering the city, travellers muſt deliver up their fire-arms, for which they receive half a tally; but they may have them again directly, if they pleaſe to accompany their tally with a piece of money, though properly, this ſhould not be complied with, till the party is going to leave the city. The weſt ſide of the city, is watered by the river Bonzevera, and on the oppoſite ſide runs another, with a ſtone bridge over each.

The harbour of Genoa is large, but not very ſafe; and to fence it farther from the ſouth wind, would make the entrance too narrow, and conſequently be a detriment or inconvenience to the city. In the [185] middle of the harbour, on a place called the Royal Bridge, is a commodious watering place for ſhips, the water being conveyed by pipes from the moun⯑tains.

At the bottom of the harbour is the Porto Franco, containing the warehouſes of the merchants, admira⯑bly diſpoſed in a ſeparate encloſure, opened only at certain times. All merchandize muſt be lodged here, and pays no cuſtom at entrance; whatever is ſold for the conſumption of the city, pays eight or ten per cent upon the value, but all that is exported, pays only a ſlight duty. They do not ſuffer eccleſi⯑aſtics, officers, women, or livery ſervants, to enter without particular permiſſion. Within this harbour, is the Darſena, or wet dock, for the gallies of the republics. From the formidable figure which the Genoeſe fleet made in times paſt, it is now reduced to ſix gallies, and all the uſe of theſe is to fetch corn from Naples and Sicily, and to give the ladies an airing. The complement of the largeſt gallies, is from 60 to a 100 ſoldiers, and 320 rowers, five or ſix on a bench, which ſerves them for a bed. The Darſena abounds with Turkiſh ſlaves, who are ge⯑nerally of a ſurly, fierce aſpect, to which their long whiſkers do not a little contribute. In the Darſena they are at liberty; but in the city one meets them every where chained in couples, and crying cheeſe, [186] cotton, cloth, &c. They alſo keep tipling-houſes and petty ſhops in the Darſena, their officers giving them all poſſible encouragement, and advancing them a ſmall ſum of money, with which, in their trips to Marſeilles, Corſica, and other places, they buy all kinds of knick-knacks at a very cheap rate, and make a good market of them at Genoa, where every thing is extremely dear; but the officers come in for a ſhare of the profits: ſome of theſe ſlaves are furniſhed with goods to trade with, out of the re⯑publics warehouſes, part for ready money, and part on credit, at a ſtated price. At night none of them are to be abſent from the Darſena, for they are muſ⯑tered and locked up every evening. Private perſons who have been ſucceſsful in fitting out ſhips againſt the Barbary corſairs, may keep ſuch ſlaves; but they are generally ſold to the ſtate, which puts them to the beſt uſe, and can beſt ſecure them. Their common employment is knitting woollen ſtockings and caps. This ſhews the lenity and indulgence of the Chriſtians towards the Mahometan captives, very different from the hardſhips impoſed on the Chriſtians, who have the misfortune to fall into the hands of the Turkiſh corſairs.

The rowers on board the Turkiſh gallies, gene⯑rally conſiſt of three claſſes. The firſt claſs is of in⯑digent people, who ſell themſelves for a certain term [187] of years, among whom, are many Italians and Pied⯑monteſe, and the common price of ſuch at Genoa, is 60 or 70 livres for the ſpace of two years cer⯑tain. The ſecond claſs are criminals, who have been ſentenced to try at the oar for a limited time, or during life. The third ſort are Turkiſh or Bar⯑bary priſoners, who, though they become converts to chriſtianity, do not recover their freedom; but it is not uncommon for them, by means of their godfathers, to be put into a better way of living, and upon their good behaviour, to obtain their liberty.

Thoſe who behave well, are allowed to have little ſhops or ſheds on the quay. Theſe are all chained to their ſhops, but the chains being pretty long, they can move about in them, and even backward and forward before their doors. Others are permitted to go all over the town, chained in couples, and hawk about fiſh, matts, &c. Sometimes it has hap⯑pened, that theſe poor creatures, thus coupled, quar⯑rel, and frequently from ſuch trifling cauſes as one of them wiſhing to go one way, and the other a different one; theſe diſputes at laſt have riſen to ſuch a height, that the conſequences might have been fatal, had they not been timely ſeparated. On the other hand friendſhips have commenced from the ſimilitude of their misfortunes; ſo that the greateſt [188] harmony has ſubſiſted among ſome of them. There is one man who has been chained to his little ſhop on the quay, where he has vended coffee and li⯑quors for 18 years, and by his induſtry acquired up⯑wards of 40,000 livres: he offered 10,000 to Prince D— for his liberty, but the Prince demanded 20, and the gallerian thought that even freedom might be purchaſed too dear; he therefore remains a ſlave, barefooted, his head ſhaved, and wears a looſe ſhort redingotte, of coarſe cloth, lined with ſhag, nor ſeems to indulge himſelf with any convenience or comfort of life, more than his comrades, though ſo much richer. However to prevent Prince D. and the other magiſtrates from profiting by his death he has entered into partnerſhip with a younger ſlave, whom he has made his heir, which it ſeems was neceſſary for the above purpoſe.

Upon the whole, the idea received in this country of the wretched ſituation of a galley-ſlave is very much exaggerated. To thoſe gallerians, who were originally poor and hard labouring peaſants, the being a galley-ſlave can ſcarce be deemed a mis⯑fortune.

The faro, or light-houſe, a tower which is aſcended by 166 ſteps, ſtands on the weſt ſide of the harbour, and is ſituated on a high rock, which is alſo forti⯑fied. [189] Every night, except about the ſummer ſol⯑ſtice, a lanthorn, with 36 lamps, is hung out at the top of it, toward the ſea; and when a number of ſhips or any fleet is known to be in theſe ſeas, an addition is made to the number of lamps, which, yet at a diſtance, appear like a ſingle ſtar.

In the piazza nuova, or new ſquare, before the Doge's palace, is a daily market, Sundays not ex⯑cepted for vegetables and other proviſion; and in the middle of January here are expoſed to ſale, green peas, artichokes, and water melons, in great plenty; beſides hyacinths, and moſt kinds of flow⯑ers in full bloom.

The fineſt ſtreet in the whole city is the ſtrada nuova, or the new ſtreet, which is 12 common paces in breadth, and planned by Galeazzi, an architect of Perugia, who alſo built moſt of the fine palaces in it. Among theſe are 10 or 12 of moſt remark⯑able beauty and magnificence. The firſt floors of theſe palaces open into beautiful gardens and oran⯑geries, like the horti penſiles of the ancients. Over the entrance of the palace of Doria is written this motto, Nulli certa domus. 'No one has a fixed ha⯑bitation.' The very ſame words ſtand over the door of the Republic's palace, and are well adapted to the Doge's ſhort continuance in it. The palace [190] of Imperiali in Competto, has a very fine proſpect of two ſtreets, of which the owner of this palace is proprietor, who from one window can look down on a ſpot of no great extent, which brings him in 4000 pounds a year. The ſtrada Balbi is but little inferior to the ſtrada nuova in beauty, and exceeds it in length and breadth. Two palaces of the Balbi family, the Jeſuits college, and the palace of Du⯑razzo are great ornaments to it, the latter being 140 common paces in front, is inconteſtably the fineſt private building in the whole city, and its furniture anſwerable to its outward magnificence. In this palace are ſome exquiſite paintings, and on the third ſtory is an open gallery, decked all round with beauti⯑ful urns for flowers, which affords a grand proſpect of the harbour, &c. and leads to a moſt charming garden, adorned with fountains, and walks of orange and citron trees. The palace of Prince Doria, near the light-houſe, has the ſame conve⯑nience, and formerly there was a ſtone key behind the garden, by means of which the family could ſtep out of the garden into their barge, but that is now altered. Whilſt the Emperor Charles V. once lodged in this palace, apartments were ſuddenly run up; at the end of which, to his great ſurpriſe, he found a fine yacht ready to receive him. Prince Doria ordered all the plate, both gold and ſilver uſed at the entertainment, to be thrown overboard, [191] whilſt the Spaniſh noblemen, in the Emperor's re⯑tinue, ſtood looking at one another with aſtoniſh⯑ment at this apparent extravagance, little knowing that care had been taken to ſpread nets all about the veſſel; and that the Spaniards from the vaſt quantity of plate, might not imagine any of it was borrowed, the Prince had the following inſcription in Spaniſh put on that ſide of the palace, which is oppoſite the light-houſe: 'Thanks to God and the King; in this houſe there is nothing borrowed.'

On the left hand of the entrance into the gardens is the image of a monſter, ſtanding in a fountain, whoſe fore part reſembles a ſatyr, with two ſmall horns, but its hind part has a double fiſh's tail erect. This monſter is ſaid to have been taken alive. In the middle of the garden is a larger foun⯑tain, where among ſeveral marble ſtatues is one in the gigantic taſte of the famous Andrew Doria, who died in the year 1560, after a life of the moſt ho⯑nourable ſucceſſes, and full of days, for he lived 93 years. As a public acknowledgment of his eminent ſervices to his country, every year, on the fifteenth of September, the captain of the ducal palace, at⯑tended by 200 ſoldiers, carries the city keys in a diſh, to the Prince of Doria, who, on this occaſion, entertains them with a feaſt. At theſe times the moſt magnificent furniture of his palace, his ad⯑mirable [192] pictures, plate, tapeſtry, looking glaſſes, tables, &c. are finely diſplayed. Another mark of the republic's gratitude is, that foreigners ex⯑cepted, the Princes of Dona and their domeſtics only, are allowed to wear ſwords within the city, none of the nobility being permitted to do it, unleſs when going on a journey.

From the ſecond ſtory of this palace is a paſſage over a little bridge into another garden, laid out in a very agreeable variety along the acclivity of the hill; and on the top of it, is a gigantic ſtatue of Jupiter, made of plaſter, reſting his foot upon a great dog, whoſe good qualities are celebrated in the following epetaph:

Here lies the great Rolando, a dog belonging to Prince John Andrew Doria, whoſe unſhaken fidelity and good nature, entitled him to this monument; and having when alive, diſtinguiſhed himſelf by an uniform practice of both theſe good qualities, it was judged no more than juſtice, to depoſit his re⯑mains near Jupiter, as truly worthy of his royal protection. He lived eleven years and ten months, and died the ſeventh of September, at five o'Clock in the evening, in the year 1605.

[193]Thoſe who may think it a proſtitution of epi⯑taphs, that one ſhould be beſtowed on a dog, and the hour of his death ſo particularly ſet down, will pro⯑bably think the legacy of five hundred crowns a-year, for the maintainance of that animal, none of the moſt commendable. Spartian, in the 20th chapter of the Life of Hadrian, repreſents this Em⯑peror as ſuch a lover of horſes and dogs, that he erected monuments to them. Charles XII. the war⯑like King of Sweden, had ſuch a regard for his dog Pompey, who every where attended him, that the creature happening to die in Poland, he had it car⯑ried into Sweden, that it might not lie out of its na⯑tive country.

The cathedral is dedicated to S. Lawrence, and in a chapel where 30 ſilver lamps are continually burning, is kept with great veneration the bones of John the Baptiſt. But the principal curioſity in this church, and accounted ſo valuable, that it may not be ſeen without the Archbiſhop's leave, is an emerald diſh; ſaid to be a preſent from the Queen of Sheba to Solomon. It is pretended, that it was af⯑terwards uſed for the paſchal lamb, and after that, by our Saviour at the laſt ſupper, and laſtly came to the republic of Genoa, either by the generoſity of Baldwin, King of Jeruſalem, or as its ſhare of the plunder of the city of Caeſarea, in the year 1101. [194] This diſh is of a round figure, with an hexagonical rim, and is eight inches and a half, or near two common palms in diameter, and about five palms in circumference. It is quite plain, without any carv⯑ing or ſculpture; but what is moſt remarkable is, that it is made of one ſingle emerald, which, for dimenſions, is to be paralleled only with that at the convent of Reichenau, in Baden-ſee, which we have already noticed.

The ſacred edifice of Genoa, like thoſe at Na⯑ples, remarks Groſsley, are full of funeral inſcrip⯑tions, but in general, as plain as thoſe of Naples are, turgid and bombaſtical. They have com⯑monly annexed to them, ſome moral or prudential maxim, for the uſe of the traveller who ſtops to read them. On the frieze of the magnificent tomb of one of the name of Spinola, is the follow⯑ing, in large characters:

i. e. Leave not to another, what you can do yourſelf.

In ſome public places are inſcriptions of another kind, alſo conſecrated to poſterity, but perpetuat⯑ing the infamous memory of ſuch as have injured [195] the ſtate, and whoſe names are ſet up in the chief places of the Genoeſe territories. The perpetu⯑ating monuments of this kind, can ſcarce be re⯑conciled with that humane maxim of gratiae am⯑pliandae, odia reſtringenda, "Favours ſhould be mul⯑tiplied, diſſervices reſtrained."

Near St. Mary's church is a ſtone bridge, which joins together two eminences in the city, formerly ſeparated by a deep valley. This bridge cannot be ſeen without aſtoniſhment, for it conſiſts of one ſmall and three large arches, of ſuch a height, as to be elevated ten or twelve feet above ſeveral houſes of five or ſix ſtories, ſo that it croſſes a large ſtreet. The breadth of this extraordinary bridge is 45 feet, and its length about 160 or 170 paces.

The ſtate palace is an old mean building, the left ſide of which is aſſigned to the Doge, whoſe table alſo is defrayed at the public expence; it ſtands almoſt in the centre of the city, and has a guard at the entrance. From the audience room a paſſage leads to the arſenal, over the entrance of which, is the roſtrum of an ancient Roman ſhip. It is about three ſpans in length, and its greateſt thickneſs is two thirds of a foot. Near it are theſe words: This ancient Roman roſtrum, the only one [196] which has hitherto been found, was digged up when this harbour was cleared, in the year 1597, and by order of the ſtates, ſet up as a monument of the great naval glory of our anceſtors.

The arſenal contains above 25,000 muſquets, and among other curioſities is a ſhield with 120 piſtol barrels fixed in it, which may be fired in three equal diſcharges of 40 at a time; likewiſe the cuiraſſes of ſeveral Genoeſe ladies, who, under Pope Boni⯑face VIII. performed a cruſade to the holy land. This armour, ſays Lady Millar, is nicely contrived for women, yet there are ſome ridiculous peculiari⯑ties belonging to it. Among other ſingular war⯑like matters, there is a wooden cannon, lined in the inſide with a thin plate of braſs, and a ſword with a piſtol in it.

The public charities of the individuals of Genoa, ſurpaſs, perhaps, thoſe of any other country in Eu⯑rope, of its extent and revenue; witneſs the vaſt number of churches and convents founded and en⯑dowed by private citizens, the great hoſpital, by voluntary contributions, the Albergo, the Port Frene, the houſe for 300 girls, by one ſubject; the church and bridge of Carignan, by another; a foundation for the maintenance of 240 nuns, of the order of S. Thereſa, by the Brignoli family, who are obliged [197] to attend the foundling hoſpital and the Albergo. Marcellinus Durazzo's little college for 12 poor boys of noble parentage: this building joins to his own palace: they are found in every thing at his ſole expence, and have proper maſters to qualify them for different profeſſions, according to their ſeveral abilities and inclinations.

The Albergo is a building of great extent, and does honour to the Genoeſe; ſerving at once for charitable uſes, and for a houſe of correction. One wing is appropriated to the females, the other to the males; that for the females is divided among illegitimate females, and legitimate orphans, who by having loſt their parents are deprived of the care, education, and maintenance they might otherwiſe have been entitled to. The legitimate females conſiſt of about 450, who are taught embroidery, knitting, and plain-work; are well cloathed and fed, and often marry into rich citizens families. Poor old infirm people, paſt their labour, are main⯑tained here during the remainder of their days. Poor people alſo, who cannot afford themſelves lodging places, having previouſly proved to the council their neceſſitous circumſtances, obtain beds for one night, and are always offered a bowl of ſoup, and a pound and a half of bread, before they depart in the morning. All ſtrangers of every [198] country and poor travellers are allowed to lodge and $at as mentioned above. The boys, who are about 500, are taught all ſorts of handicrafts; and if they have no friends or relations to protect them when fit to earn their bread, are ſet up in different trades at the charge of the fund, which is very con⯑ſiderable.

The Cambeaces, of which there are now five fa⯑milies, originally ſprung from trade, and who are ſtill merchants, give every day a bowl of ſoup, and a pound of bread, to each of the poor who preſent themſelves at their gate; if it ſhould ſo happen that, at any time, there is not a ſufficiency of ſoup for all, the grown perſons receive each four ſous, and the children two, in lieu of it. The number of poor is generally from 3 to 500: they are gene⯑rally ſtrangers, for there are not many natives of the Republic in ſuch neceſſitous circumſtances as to want bread. They alſo give once a year to poor women, who apply for them, a ſhift, with a corſet, and petticoat; to the men, a ſhirt, a great coat, with a hood to it, a pair of breeches, and ſhoes. At the end of the year thoſe who preſent themſelves in the cloaths that had been given them, are im⯑mediately new cloathed; but others who ſhew no remains of the former bounty have their conduct ſtrictly ſcrutinized. A little of the ſoup, out of the [199] great boiler, is always carried to one of the family to taſte, before it is diſtributed to the poor, leſt by the want of attention or neglect of the ſervants, it ſhould not be good. It is remarkable that the great expence, which they are at, has had no ten⯑dency to diminiſh their circumſtances, as they have for more than a century paſt, been encreaſing in riches.

The theatre of this city is rather large than ſmall, but not beautiful, either as to architecture or paint⯑ing. All the boxes below ſtairs are ſhut in with jalouſies, except when the owners chuſe to ſhew themſelves to the audience, at which time they light them up with wax candles, and the jalouſies are removed.

Every Sunday evening during the winter, an oratorio or religious opera is performed in one of the churches, which is ſucceeded by a ſermon; and then the ſervice concludes with a piece of church muſic. As the deſign of this is to keep people from bad company, and at the ſame time to incite them, by the moſt animated exhortations, to ſanctity of life, no great objection can lie againſt it; but the ſummer diverſion cannot be looked upon with equal indulgence. Near Prince Doria's palace, without S. Thomas's gate, theſe monks have a gar⯑den, [200] with a beautiful edifice in it, where every Sun⯑day, in the afternoon, they permit ſeveral kinds of games, as drafts, cheſs, billiards; dice and cards are excepted. It is true, they do not play here for money, but for ave maria's, pater-noſters, and other prayers; and at the breaking up of a party, the loſers kneel before an image of the Virgin Mary, and there, according to their loſings, diſcharge themſelves to her, or to God, by pater-noſters, &c. In the evening they leave off playing, and an ora⯑torio is performed; next comes a ſpiritual exhorta⯑tion, and at length this medley of levity and reli⯑gion cloſes with a ſolemn piece of muſic. The intent, indeed, is far from culpable, being to divert the commonalty from riotous meetings; and an exceſſive fondneſs for gaming is gratified without prejudice to their ſubſtance and families: but how this abuſe of God's name, in theſe loſt prayers, can be juſtified is a myſtery.

With reſpect to the police of this city, the Sbirri at Genoa are pretty much like our conſtables; they alſo execute all arreſts, collect the taxes, and guard the port. They are abhorred by the people, pro⯑tected by the great and by what is called here the Prince, which means the Government. The of⯑ficers of juſtice here appear in as infamous a light as the hangmen in France. The meaneſt wretch of [201] Genoa would deem it a diſgrace to marry the daughter or ſiſter of a Sbirri. They can even have no ſociety but with their own fraternity, it being ignominious for their neighbours to aſſociate with them. It frequently happens that the females of theſe Sbirri are remarkably handſome, and that their beauty procures them the particular attention and protection of the nobles, ſcarce one of whom but what has a favourite miſtreſs among them: Theſe men run great riſks in the execution of their office; 10 or 12 of them, at leaſt, are killed every year by the populace. Sixty livres is the allowance for each arreſt. At the approach of night they walk the ſtreets in ſmall parties, to prevent aſſaſſi⯑nations, which are not uncommon in Genoa. It is abſolutely forbidden that any perſon ſhould carry a ſtilletto concealed about him. Therefore when the Sbirri meet a ſuſpicious perſon they ſurround him immediately, and ſtroke him down the ſides and hips, to diſcover if he has one about him. Should they find one, he is hurried away to priſon, and there detained ſix months, even if his character be unimpeachable; otherwiſe he is ſent to the gal⯑lies for life, or for a conſiderable term of years. Notwithſtanding this ordinance of government, there is ſcarce a Genoeſe who does not poſſeſs and carry one about him. This deadly inſtrument makes its way at one ſtroke through the ribs, the [202] ſpine of the back, or the ſhoulder blades, ſo well is the ſteel tempered. The moſt dreadful accidents, ſays Lady Millar, in contradiction to Keyſler, fre⯑quently happen in the ſtreets; for on receiving the ſlighteſt provocation theſe weapons make their ap⯑pearance; they aſſail each other with great ferocity, and no unconcerned ſpectator ever interpoſes, fear⯑ing a momentary reſentment of either combatant might prove fatal to him; and even though one of them ſhould fall, no one ever thinks of purſuing or ſtopping the murderer; a culpo di coltello, that is, a ſtab with a knife, is looked upon here as a black eye or a bloody noſe in England. Another reaſon why ſpectators do not interpoſe is, that the family of the guilty perſon are implacable towards an in⯑former; and never fail to requite his officiouſneſs ſooner or later with a like return. The manner in which the guilty aſſaſſin ſecures himſelf is by going immediately on board a foreign ſhip in the harbour, where he remains in ſafety till the accident is forgot. If the wound is but ſlight, the aſſaſſin never thinks even of going on ſhip-board, but walks off to the neareſt church, where in the portico, or on the ſteps, he is in ſafety; but if the wound proves mortal, the church no longer affords him an aſylum, and he can then be taken even from on ſhip-board. The churches are alſo very convenient for all pilferers, who are there in ſecurity from the Sbirri; but in the caſe [203] of highway-robbers, houſe-breakers, and aſſaſſins, an order is procured from the archbiſhop, authoriſ⯑ing the civil power to take them from thence.

CHAP. XXI. Character, Dreſs, Cuſtoms, and Manners.

THE Genoeſe are eſteemed extremely cunning, induſtrious, and inured to hardſhip above the reſt of the Italians; which was likewiſe the charac⯑ter of their anceſtors, the old Ligurians. The Ita⯑lian proverb ſays, of the Genoeſe, that 'they have a ſea without fiſh, land without trees, women with⯑out modeſty, and men without faith.'

It is true, ſays Baretti, that the Tyrrhene ſea does not greatly abound in fiſh, and the rocky tops of the Ligurian mountains are not much ſhaded by firs and oaks. But integrity in men and modeſty in women are quite as common, throughout the Ge⯑noeſe country, as elſewhere. The Genoeſe nobles are in general affable, polite, and very knowing; [204] and their great ladies much better acquainted with books than any other ſet of Italian ladies. They all pique themſelves on ſpeaking Italian and French with great correctneſs, and men may converſe in their hearing on the belle-lettres, and even on trade and politics, without any breach of civility; which would not be the caſe in almoſt all other parts of Italy.

With regard to the common people, the Genoeſe are the moſt laborious and induſtrious of any nation whatever. Nor are they wanting in bravery, as the Germans experienced to their coſt in the laſt Italian war, when that army which had defeated 40 or 50,000 French at Placentia, was by the Genoeſe populace impetuouſly attacked, routed, and put to a moſt ignominious flight.

The Genoeſe, from their commerce with other nations, ſays Lady Millar, are very quick of ap⯑prehenſion, gueſſing at what you would ſay, however ill you may expreſs yourſelf. Nor do they think a ſtranger ridiculous for not ſpeaking their language fluently; raſhly confounding words and ideas, and ſuppoſing the want or miſapprehenſion of the for⯑mer, to proceed from a defect or confuſion in the latter. In dealing with a Genoeſe the bargain is [205] ſoon concluded; for they ſeldom aſk more than they mean to take, and are a people of few words.

The law of gain is ſo prevalent here, that all ranks give into trade. The laws have taken care, in many articles, to put a check upon exceſſive ſplendor and luxury. Foreigners, and the eight counſellors of ſtate, excepted, no perſon is to be at⯑tended by above one footman; and ſhe muſt be a lady of conſiderable rank, who, beſides ſuch an at⯑tendant, is allowed a page; and he muſt not exceed 14 years of age.

It ſeems little to agree with the reſerve and mo⯑deſty of the fair-ſex, that moſt of the married ladies of diſtinction are every where attended by a gentle⯑man, who in the ſtreets walks before their chair, and at coming into the church holds the holy water for them, and does all the other little acts of com⯑plaiſance, in a particular manner like a lover. Some ladies are not ſatisfied with one ſuch obſequi⯑ous dangler, but admit ſeveral for diſtinct offices; one attends his lady when ſhe goes abroad, another provides for the table, another has the management of parties of pleaſure, a fourth regulates the gaming table, a fifth is even conſulted about receipts and diſburſements; and both the beauty and wit of a lady are commonly rated according to the number [206] of theſe votaries. They all paſs under the denomi⯑nation of Platonic lovers; and one would, indeed, almoſt imagine, the huſbands had nothing to fear from all theſe familiarities; for the Genoeſe being true Italians in point of jealouſy, can not be igno⯑rant how far theſe intimacies may be carried, as they, in their turn, are ciciſbei to other married la⯑dies. Nor is this piece of gallantry confined to the young women only, but ladies advanced in years, pique themſelves much on having their ciciſbeo; however this cuſtom is merely arbitrary, there being no indiſpenſible obligation here to obſerve it, and it, in ſome meaſure, now ſeems to be on the decline.

The Genoeſe nobility are great economiſts; and may be worth generally from one to 5000 pounds a year; though few of them have a revenue equal to this latter ſum, except the families of Durazzo and Doria. They live with great parſimony in their fa⯑milies, and wear nothing but black in public; ſo that their expences are but ſmall. If a Genoeſe no⯑bleman gives an entertainment once a quarter, he is ſaid to live upon the fragments all the reſt of the year. I was told, ſays Smollett, that one of them lately invited his friends, and left the entertainment to the care of his ſon, who ordered a diſh of fiſh that coſt a zechin, equal to about ten ſhillings in Engliſh. The old gentleman no ſooner ſaw it ap⯑pear on the table, than unable to ſuppreſs his con⯑cern, he burſt into tears, and exclaimed, Ah! fi⯑gliuolo indegno! Siamo in rovina! Siamo in precipizio! Oh! graceleſs ſon; we are ruined! we are ruined!

The pride and oſtentation of the Italians in gene⯑ral, however, may be ſaid to take a more laudable turn than that of other nations. A Frenchman lays [208] out his whole revenue upon tawdry ſuits of cloaths, or in furniſhing a magnificent entertainment of 50 or a 100 covers, one half of which are not eatable, nor intended to be eaten. His wardrobe goes to the fripier; his diſhes to the dogs, and himſelf to the devil; and after his deceaſe no veſtige of him remains. A Genoeſe, on the other hand, keeps him⯑ſelf and his family on ſhort allowance, that he may ſave money to build palaces and churches, which remain to after ages as ſo many monuments of his taſte, piety, and munificence; and in the mean time give bread and employment to the poor and induſ⯑trious. There are ſome Genoeſe nobles who have each five or ſix elegant palaces, magnificently fur⯑niſhed, either in the city or in different parts of the environs along the coaſt.

Both ſexes at Genoa are in general perſonable and handſome, and affect the French dreſs to the utmoſt extent of the ſumptuary laws, by which men are al⯑lowed only to wear black, with a ſhort ſattin cloak, and their ſedans courſely varniſhed with black. The ſame laws prohibit women from pearls, diamonds, and laces. Their carriage is the ſame as that of men; and all their light after dark, is a ſorry lan⯑thern, on one of the poles of the leading chairman. The only perſons diſpenſed from theſe rigid laws are the ſpoſe, or ſuch as are promiſed in marriage; and [209] this for ſix weeks before and after their nuptials. In this happy interval their love of finery has its full range; they go in gilded chairs, ſplendidly glazed, with white wax flambeaux before and behind; and in the richeſt full dreſſes, glittering with jewels and laces. During this tranſient period, it is the ſame with them as with young women about taking the veil, who are led to the pariſh church in all the pomp and glitter which their family can furniſh.

The dreſs of the bourgeois, ſays Lady Millar, is fine, but ſingular. Their heads are wrapped up in a piece of printed cotton, which looks like a coun⯑terpane; it reaches down to their waiſts, and rolling it round them, they fold their arms over the ends, bringing it ſo cloſe together before, that ſcarce any part of their faces can be ſeen. They have ſtrait bodied gowns, with very long trains of rich ſatins, damaſks, &c. theſe they do not give themſelves the trouble to hold out of the dirt; ſo their tails ſweep up all the ordure of the ſtreets. They generally wear long aprons of fine muſlins trimmed with lace.

The poorer ſort of women and peaſants are wretchedly cloathed; they wear a petticoat of wool⯑len or ſtriped linen, with a corſet; their heads are quite naked, the hair of the chignion rolled round [210] and round at the top of the back of the head, and ſeveral pewter bodkins, as long as ſkewers, ſtuck through it by way of ornament.

There is ſomething very ſhocking, remarks Lady Millar, in being ſerved entirely by men, till cuſtom and neceſſity, in ſome meaſure, reconcile one to it. Not a female is to be ſeen in an Italian inn. Our expences are half a guinea a head per day for eating, and for this they give us three or four diſhes. Their conſtant uſe of oil, even in their ſoups, and which is ſeldom good, is extremely diſguſting. The manner of roaſting their meat is ſingular; after oiling the meat with a feather, they ſuſpend it over a charcoal fire, until it is become ſo dry and brittle as to admit of pulverization. Fiſh is rarely to be had except on maigre days. The great ſcarcity of fiſh, how⯑ever, according to Lady Millar, is not owing to a want of abundance in the gulph, but to a tax upon this article, when expoſed for ſale in the markets, which raiſes the price to the buyers above that of butchers meat; although that is ſold at 12 ſous the pound; the Genoeſe do not eat much meat. The poorer ſort eſpecially live almoſt entirely upon cheſ⯑nuts and macaroni. Bread is excellent here, but very dear, the corn with which it is made coming from Sicily. Fourteen bakers work night and day the year round. The price of rolls of the ſize of [211] thoſe called French rolls at Bath, is dearer by a halfpenny than in that town.

The inns at Genoa, ſays Keyſler, afford but in⯑different entertainment, and care muſt be taken always to make an agreement for every thing before hand. Their houſes are furniſhed with wine from the republic, and in ſealed bottles; yet the wine is none of the beſt, though it is not adulterated by the landlords. As the whole profit of the latter, ariſes only from the empty bottles, he takes care to make it up in other articles. Beſides this monopoly of wine, which all who have none of their own growth, muſt buy from the republic; it is the ſtate only which deals in corn, none being ſold in any market, but all bakers muſt apply for it to the public granaries.

At the funerals of ſingle perſons, a ſort of gar⯑land, decked with all kinds of artificial flowers, is placed upon the coffin. When perſons of diſtinc⯑tion are buried, the religious fraternities walk in the proceſſion, with their white hoods drawn over their faces, carrying wax flambeaux in their hands, which they hold horizontally, that poor boys by catching the wax upon paper as it drops off, may earn a few ſous. The intention is doubtleſs good; but the ſight of ſo many ragged boys, mingling in the proceſſion, is no great ornament to the ſolemnity.

CHAP. XXII. Of their Government, Revenue, Army, Navy, and Commerce.

THE form of government in this republic, is ariſtocratical. The chief is called Doge or Duke, to which dignity, no perſon is promoted, till he is 50 years of age, and has for 15 years, left off all trade or occupation, not conſiſtent with nobility. Every two years, a new Doge is choſen, and the former incapacitated, during five years to hold the ſame poſt. On the election day, which is uſually the third of January, the great council meets in the ducal palace, and by drawing gilt balls out of a box, 50 perſons are choſen out of the leſſer council, who write down the names of ſuch perſons, as they think worthy of being promoted to the ducal office. Upon any irreconcilable diſputes in the biennial election, it is adjourned from week to week, and the government is lodged, in the mean time, in the eldeſt ſenator. The vote of a poor nobleman, ſays Keyſler, is often ſecured by 50 or 60 louis dors, and there goes a ſtory, that once a neceſſitous nobleman, being to go a journey, was for borrowing a cloak [213] of a wealthy member of the ſame order, but met with a kind of repulſe; and ſome time after, com⯑ing into the ſenate, when his ill-natured rich neigh⯑bour who wanted but one to be elected doge, began to ſolicit and made great promiſes for gaining him over, but all was to no purpoſe, for the poor ſenator openly declared, 'That his neighbour had lately ſuffered him to go a journey without a cloak, and in return, he might for his part, go without a cap.

The Doge reſides in a palace belonging to the republic, with his family, and eight Senators ap⯑pointed for his council. He has a guard of 200 men allowed him, who are all Germans; their uniform is red, faced with blue; but the reſt of the ſoldiery, which is compoſed of all nations, are cloathed in white, with blue facings. The firſt two days after his election, he wears royal robes, but afterwards, only the ſcarlet gown, common to all the members of the council, Lady Millar, in deſcribing his ordinary dreſs, obſerves, that his robes are crimſon velvet, his ſtockings, ſhoes, &c. red; and that he wears a ſquare cap on his head of a crimſon colour, with a tuft of flame coloured ſilk in the middle. He wears alſo a large cravat of lace, with a prodigious perriwig. The procurators and ſenators have robes of black damaſk.

[214]The particulars of his prerogatives are, that with⯑out his conſent, nothing can be propoſed, nor can any reſolutions of the council be of the leaſt force. In all important affairs, he makes the firſt motion, gives audience to ambaſſadors, and aſſembles the colleges. All orders are alſo iſſued in his name.

During his adminiſtration, he is ſtiled Serenité; but afterwards has no other title than that of Ex⯑cellenza, common to all the Senators. The other nobility are ſtiled Illuſtriſſimi. But titles are what the Italians are leaſt ſparing of.

The great council in Genoa, is compoſed of 400, and the little council of 100. None but nobles, and ſuch as reſide at Genoa, can be admitted into ei⯑ther.

The ordinary income of the ſtate, computed to amount only to about half a million of liri, ariſes from the duties on imports and exports. When theſe revenues fall ſhort of the public expences, the ſtate borrows from the nobles and rich citizens, large ſums at a high intereſt, on certain pledges, and even aſſignments on branches of the public income, which recourſe, in 1407, gave riſe to the famous bank of S. George, ſo called from St. George's church, the place where it formerly held its meetings. [215] Its opulence and power are very extraordinary, whole towns, manors, and territories belong to it. It is not only to the republic that this company has ad⯑vanced large ſums, but alſo to foreigners, by way of mortgage on lands or public revenues in other ſtates; but it cannot be ſaid, that either this bank or the republic, have met with the beſt of treatment in the performance of their contracts. In 1746, in order to anſwer the demands of the Imperialiſts, it was quite drained and brought to the brink of ruin.

It would have been better for the republic of Genoa, ſays Addiſon, if ſhe had followed the ex⯑ample of her ſiſter of Venice, in not permitting her nobles to purchaſe lands or houſes in the territories of a foreign potentate. For at preſent, the prin⯑cipal families among the Genoeſe, are in part ſub⯑jects of the kingdom of Naples, by reaſon of their eſtates which lie in that kingdom. The Neapoli⯑tans ſometimes tax them very high, and are ſo ſen⯑ſible of the advantage this gives them over the re⯑public; that they will not ſuffer a Neapolitan to buy the lands of a Genoeſe, who muſt find a purchaſer among his own countrymen, if he has a mind to fell.

[216]Sir John Millar obſerves, that the poſſeſſions of the Genoeſe out of their own territory, are nearly equal to the whole income of that ſtate. As to their being the moſt likely to give themſelves up to Spain or Naples, by reaſon of ſuch tenure, that is unnatural: weak in themſelves, and unwarlike, they cannot reſiſt any one power; but their ſafety has hitherto depended, and muſt always depend upon the intereſt others have, in their continuing a free ſtate: their acquiſition would too much in⯑creaſe the conſequence and influence of any neigh⯑bouring power. Beſides, what bribe can Spain, Naples, or even France offer to the Genoeſe nobi⯑lity, as an equivalent for their liberty? Can they, out of their own houſes, ſee any thing deſirable in the palace of kings? Rich in their frugality, in the poſſeſſion of honours, of power, and conſidera⯑tion, can a noble Genoeſe envy the prime miniſter or favourite of any crowned head in Europe?

In times of peace, the republic uſually keeps on foot, a body of 5000 regular troops, namely, 4000 natives; 200 Germans, who form the Doge's life guard; 500 Swiſs; 300 Italians; 100 Corſicans, and 100 Bombardiers. Beſides theſe, it has alſo a militia, which, in caſe of neceſſity, is obliged to take the field. The cavalry it raiſes in war-time, amount only to about 600 who are but little ſer⯑viceable [217] by reaſon of the badneſs of horſes in this country. In the laſt war the republic had no leſs than 18,000 men in pay.

The fleet of this Republic, anciently ſo celebrated for its victories over the Saracens, Piſaneſe, Vene⯑tians, Spaniards, and Turks, and for continuing, a conſiderable time, maſter of Sardinia, Malta, Ma⯑jorca, Minorca, Candia, Cyprus, and many other iſlands and places, in and near the Mediterranean and Archipelago, and even of the Black Sea, the Crim, and other places, is now reduced to ſix gal⯑lies.

Though the Genoeſe manufactures are much fal⯑len ſhort of the vogue they were formerly in, yet velvet, pluſh, and fuſtian are ſtill made as well as damaſks, and other ſilk ſtuffs; for which conſider⯑able quantities of red ſilk are imported from Meſ⯑ſina, and other ports of Sicily: they alſo make gold and ſilver tiſſues, laces and gloves; but inferior to thoſe of France and the Netherlands. The other Genoeſe merchandize conſiſts of oil, fruit, Parmeſan cheeſe, anchovies, and drugs, which laſt are brought from the Levant. With theſe goods a briſk trade is carried on, eſpecially to Spain. Ships of moſt European nations are conſtantly ſeen at Genoa, which is alſo the great mart for the trade of Lom⯑bardy. [218] The revenues principally ariſe from the manufactures and trade, but the ſtate is far from making by them the figure it formerly did; and the reaſons are obvious, conſidering the increaſe and improvement of manufactures in other coun⯑tries, the dearneſs of the Genoeſe, and the dangers of the harbour. Genoa is noted for the richeſt bankers in Europe, acquiring wealth by dealing in bills of exchange.

CHAP. XXIII. Review of the Manners and Cuſtoms of the Italians in general, particularly in their private Life, their Games and Paſtimes.

IN peruſing the books of travellers we are natu⯑rally led, ſays Baretti, to expect an account of the domeſtic life of the people whom they have viſited; few of them, however, are poſſeſſed of the firſt and moſt indiſpenſable requiſite towards the perfor⯑mance of this taſk; that is, a competent knowledge of the language of the country they viſit; they can⯑not [219] therefore eaſily be admitted by the natives to that familiarity of intercourſe, which might afford them ſufficient opportunities to make remarks on their private life.

We will endeavour to relate a few facts in order to aſſiſt the reader in forming an idea of the manner in which life is commonly paſſed among the Ita⯑lians.

Among people in the higheſt ranks of life, as well as among thoſe who pretend to be much con⯑verſant with books, there are in all countries many who profeſs to be deiſts and atheiſts; and of theſe I have reaſons for ſaying, there are ſome in almoſt all our cities and towns of Italy: but as their number is not very conſiderable, when compared with the maſs of the people, and as moſt of them conform in outward appearance to the eſtabliſhed mode of worſhip, it is not neceſſary to notice them particu⯑larly, and point out the methods ſome of them have taken by means of the preſs, to ſpread their pernicious doctrines through the country.

This little preamble leads me to obſerve that, in general, when a true Italian riſes in the morning, the firſt action he performs is that of croſſing him⯑ſelf, and ſaying his prayers by his bed-ſide.

[220]Theſe prayers commonly conſiſt of a paternoſter, an ave maria, and an angele dei, with the addition of the ten commandments, and the five of the church.

As we are all brought up in the habit of ſaying theſe prayers to our mothers and nurſes, who make it a point to din them in our ears every morning, even before we can well ſpeak; it may be eaſily believed there are few among us who leave off the cuſtom, even when infancy is paſſed; as we are further confirmed in it by our maſters at ſchool, and our catechiſts at church, who inceſſantly re⯑commend and inculcate to young people the indiſ⯑penſable neceſſity of this duty. Breakfaſt is with them very different according to the age and con⯑dition of people. Young perſons are ſeldom or ever permitted to drink any thing hot in a morn⯑ing, as is uſual in England. Their breakfaſt is dry bread, or bread and cheeſe, or bread and fruit, ſuch as the ſeaſon affords. Nor are they permitted to drink coffee and chocolate, which are taken for breakfaſt by all people of faſhion: it being a preva⯑lent idea in Italy, that any thing hot in a morning ruins the teeth of young perſons, and weakens their conſtitution.

As to the generality of peaſants and working peo⯑ple, they make their breakfaſt of polenta, a kind of [221] pudding, made with the flour of Turkey corn, on which, whilſt it is hot, they ſpread ſome freſh but⯑ter, with the addition of a ſlice of cheeſe, and a few walnuts, if they can afford it. Tea, is never ſeen among the lower order of people. Ladies of faſhion uſed formerly to drink a ſmall baſon only when troubled with a cold; but its uſe is gradually creeping in among the better ſort of people, eſpe⯑cially in the maritime towns.

The Italians are in general very early riſers, eſpe⯑cially in ſummer. A great many who have no country houſes, in which they ſpend that ſeaſon, go very often at ſun-riſe with their whole family to breakfaſt in the fields at ſome diſtance from the towns. There they carry cold meat, ſauſages, cheeſe, fruit, and wine, ſpread a napkin on the graſs, near ſome brook or ſpring, and make a moſt chearful meal; and then, before the heat of the ſun becomes intenſe, return home to their reſpective occupations: this morning exerciſe is eſteemed by them very ſalutary and neceſſary, eſpecially for chil⯑dren. This cuſtom, however, prevails only among the middle claſs of people, and does not extend to thoſe of high rank, who live in Italy nearly after the ſame manner with their equals in other coun⯑tries, always breakfaſting at home, except ſome⯑times [222] for a frolic when they are at their country ſeats.

Though, in the Sardinian dominions, every perſon from the King to the meaneſt peaſant, dines ex⯑actly at 12 o'clock, yet in other parts of Italy it is the cuſtom to dine two or three hours later. The place of diſtinction is the ſeat fartheſt diſtant from the door, at which the victuals are brought in; and this place is generally allotted to the oldeſt female in company, or to a ſtranger. All the reſt, both men and women, ſeat themſelves promiſcuouſly. The trouble of carving is not left to the ladies as in England. At the tables of perſons in a middling ſphere of life the men carve; and at thoſe of peo⯑ple of faſhion there is generally a ſervant out of livery, whoſe buſineſs it is to carve at the ſideboard for the company. A common dinner begins with a French ſoup, and ſometimes with a large diſh of rice, macaroni, or legumes; then follow the boiled meats; after them the roaſt meats; and laſt of all the cheeſe and fruit; nor is it uſual to dine in any other order. People of faſhion have their French cooks as in England, and their dinners are nearly upon the ſame ſcale with people of rank in all the different courts of Europe.

[223]The ladies in general drink nothing but water at their meals; but the men take two or three large tumblers of wine during meals: it is not the cuſtom to drink to the health of any perſon, whe⯑ther preſent or abſent, except a foreigner be in⯑vited. In that caſe, healths are drank once or twice, in compliment to the cuſtom of foreigners, with which every one is acquainted. Healths are alſo drank at bridal dinners, in favour of the new married couple.

As ſoon as dinner is over, every thing on the table, except the cloth, is removed, and liquors are brought, of which there are a great many kinds made in Italy; and theſe, when the ſervants have dined, are ſucceeded by coffee. In thoſe parts of Italy where the winter is very cold, a fire is kept under the table all the time of dinner, and I re⯑member the time, ſays Baretti, when it was uſual in ſummer for every gueſt to have water to put his feet in, during the time of dinner, but this ſtrange cuſtom is now left off.

In ſummer, almoſt every one goes to ſleep for an hour or two after dinner, either in an eaſy chair or on a bed. For this reaſon it is not the cuſtom to dreſs before dinner as in England; but people ge⯑nerally eat their dinners in their banians or morn⯑ing [224] gowns; and when they have been obliged to dreſs after breakfaſt, in order to go out, they un⯑dreſs again to be more at their eaſe at table: but this cuſtom does not extend to the nobility or peo⯑ple of condition, who have long adopted the cuſ⯑tom of ſitting down to table full dreſſed, which ſub⯑jects them to the inconvenience of dreſſing again, if they ſleep after dinner.

In ſummer time, few people like to ſtay at home in the evening, but as ſoon as the ſun begins to ap⯑proach the horizon, women, as well as men, go out to walk till night, as many together as poſſible for the ſake of converſation. Their place of reſort is that where the great people are taking the air in their coaches. This promenade uſually laſts for an hour or ſo after ſun ſet. When their walk is finiſh⯑ed, they return home to ſupper, which always begins with ſome ſort of ſallad, and ends with fruit. After ſupper they again go out and walk, the nobility excepted, who repair to ſome houſe where there is a converſazione. Thoſe who go out after ſupper, ramble through the ſtreets, in large parties, and enjoy the freſh air, liſtening to the muſic and ſinging of thoſe who divert themſelves and their friends with their ſerenades, of which there are ſeveral, every fine evening, in all the great towns. Thus, the ſtreets are more thronged by [225] night than in the day. This kind of diverſion ge⯑nerally laſts till midnight, and often till one or two in the morning; theſe parties then break up, and people return home, repeat the prayers of the morning, and retire to reſt.

Such is the uſual tenor of life in Italy. Few Ita⯑lians amuſe themſelves at any kind of play in ſum⯑mer: but in winter they beguile their cold and long evenings with cards; and in the eaſtern parts of Italy with cheſs, backgammon, tric-trac, and other ſuch like games. Of their games with cards, which are peculiar to this country, we ſhall hereafter ſpeak.

An Italian, though but one degree above the vulgar, never ſets down to table, without having previouſly waſhed his hands, eſpecially in ſummer: and the water, for this purpoſe, is adminiſtered by a ſervant. No water-glaſſes are uſed in Italy after meals, as in England; but if any perſon chuſes to waſh his hands or mouth, he quits the table and retires to another part of the room.

As for the article of food, there are not many ſingularities to notice, excepting that few Italians can endure beef at their tables. Many Engliſh miniſters, at the Italian courts, and many of the [226] Engliſh domeſticated in the country, admiring the beef in Italy, have endeavoured to bring the eating of it into vogue, and would perſuade the Italians to eat it roaſted. One nobleman had the good nature to ſend for a butcher from England to ſhew thoſe of Turin how to cut up an ox. Yet his en⯑deavours proved fruitleſs, nor was he able to re⯑move the fooliſh prejudice, that beef is groſs food, fit only for the common people, by whom alone it is eaten except ſome of the choice pieces, uſed for bouilli; nor will the common people eat it roaſted, but either boil, ſtew, or make it into pies, highly ſeaſoned with pepper, garlic, onion and other ſtrong ingredients.

Salted beef is diſliked even more than roaſted; nor is ſalt meat of any kind ever brought to polite tables except tongues and ſauſages. The princi⯑pal meat is veal, and though in ſome places it is eaten young, yet in general the calves are not killed till they are ſix or ſeven months old. Pork is in great eſteem, and reckoned excellent as well by foreigners as by the inhabitants; and there are fowls of all kinds in abundance, both tame and wild. Kid and lamb are frequently eaten, but mutton very ſeldom; becauſe in general it is not good in any part of Italy, except that which comes from Switzerland, and the upper [227] part of the Appennines. The common people eat mutton bred in the level part of Italy, and it any perſon above the vulgar, has a mind, for the ſake of variety, to a leg or ſhoulder, it is always roaſted, and plentifully ſtuffed with garlic, ſage and roſe⯑mary. Large joints of meats are never ſerved up at Italian tables, except in families numerous enough to conſume the whole in a day; and for this reaſon, becauſe in countries where the heat for many months is ſo great, it does not anſwer to keep victuals for the following day.

On meagre days, which by the bye, are declin⯑ing very faſt in Italy, the ſea, lakes, rivers, and fiſh-ponds, furniſh moſt of the cities with great variety of fiſh; as the gardens and fields do with vegetables, which the Italian cooks dreſs in ſeveral very palatable ways, with the aſſiſtance of butter, cheeſe, ſpices, anchovies, capers, and other in⯑gredients, and particularly muſhrooms and truffles; which many provinces of Italy afford in abundance, and of the moſt delicate kind. Great quantities of ſalt-fiſh are alſo eaten in Lent, dreſſed in different ways not known in England.

Potatoes are not eat in this country. Such is the repugnance that the generality of mankind have to eat what they are not accuſtomed to, that the [228] captain of an Engliſh veſſel, who brought a large cargo of potatoes to Naples, during a great famine, was obliged to throw them overboard; as he could not find perſons who would accept them even as a preſent. And yet there are ſeveral little nations, if they may be ſo called along the ridges of the Apennines, who eat ſcarce any thing elſe for a great part of the year, except cheſnuts, of which they make even bread; and many of the peaſants in other parts, live almoſt entirely on polenta.

When the Italians have taken their afternoon nap, their ſervants attend them with lemonade, and other cooling drinks kept in ice. Of theſe they drink plentifully not only then, but at all hours of the day; nor do they want theſe refreſh⯑ments, great quantities of ice and ſnow, being preſerved in every part of Italy for the hot months. Should there be a ſcarcity of them, which happens but ſeldom, the inhabitants lament it almoſt as much as a famine. At Venice where it would be difficult to have ice-houſes under ground, on ac⯑count of the ſea, ice is brought every evening from the continent: and there are laws, obliging per⯑ſons who keep coffee-houſes, to provide the town with ſo neceſſary an article; as it would much diſtreſs labouring people, could they not cool the wine at their meals with ice, and quench their [229] thirſt as often as they have occaſion with ice water.

Having mentioned the morning prayers, of the Italians, we will now give ſome account of the manner in which they acquit themſelves, of thoſe duties, impoſed on them by their religion. Like the Engliſh, the Italians are not very fond of going to church on week-days; yet there are ſome women eſpecially, who go to hear maſs every morning, and receive the benediction in the evening.

Many of our readers know, or may eaſily in⯑form themſelves, what maſſes and benedictions are; it will therefore be ſuperfluous to deſcribe them. We have likewiſe, already related how magnificent the churches of Italy are. On holi⯑days, before day-break, their bells are in motion, and the lower claſs of people, running to hear maſs. As every church has at leaſt three altars, and the prieſts and friars are numerous; ſo there are in all churches maſſes to be heard, from the very firſt appearance of the morning, till towards the afternoon.

A little after ten, the genteel people begin to make their appearance; the ladies attended by [230] their ſervants and gallants. A gallant who eſcorts his lady to church, on approaching the door, ſteps forward to hold up the curtain, placed within the entrance, and advances to the holy water, into which he dips the extremity of his middle finger, and offers it to her, that ſhe may croſs herſelf, which ſhe immediately does, not forgetting to re⯑turn him her thanks, by a half curteſy.

In the Italian churches are no pews; only benches or chairs, and for the double purpoſe of ſit⯑ting or kneeling. In thoſe churches, where there are only chairs, the ſervants or ſexton gives one to any lady or gentleman. But where there are only benches, a lady immediately goes where ſhe ſees a place vacant, or if all are occupied, where a man is ſeated. On the approach of a woman, though but tolerably dreſſed, and no matter what may be her age, a man immediately riſes, and gives up his place to her. She kneels for an inſtant, croſſes herſelf; mumbles over a ſhort prayer, generally an ave maria; and if there be no maſs going forward at any of the altars, ſits down till one begins. But if there is one juſt ready to commence, ſhe continues kneeling, till it is a little advanced; then ſits; and kneels no more, till ſhe hears the little bell ring, when the prieſt elevates the hoſt. [231] Her kneeling at this inſtant, is accompanied with a very humble attitude, and an air of recollection.

When this maſs is over, ſhe ſits ſtill a while, then kneels again; mutters another ave maria, or ſome other ſhort prayer, croſſes herſelf, takes up the prayer-book, in which ſhe has been reading the greateſt part of the maſs, gives it to her ſervant or gallant, croſſes herſelf again; curteſies to the great altar, then goes to the holy water, and after again croſſing herſelf, curteſies a ſecond time to the altar, and then walks out of church, if ſhe has no further buſineſs in it; that is, if ſhe does not go to confeſs, which devout ladies make a rule to do once a month.

With reſpect to the men, they generally ſtand, while they are at church, eſpecially the young and gay; and only bend the right knee a little, and in⯑cline the head, at the elevation of the hoſt; and what is ſtill leſs exemplary, often whiſper to each other, and make their remarks on the ladies, who come in and go out. For this, they are upbraided in due time by the Lent Preachers, who point out to them the ſcandal they offer to religion, by ſuch prepoſterous conduct, and remark to them the great decorum obſerved even by Turks and heretics, in their acts of devotion.

[232]Though the churches as well as the maſſes are numerous, yet ſome are aſtoniſhingly crouded on holidays; it being the cuſtom, for no perſon to ab⯑ſent himſelf from church on a holiday, not even thoſe, who make light of religion; it being one of the ſettled modes for filling up of time. In all the great towns there are two or three churches called alla moda (faſhionable) in which the beſt company is collected a little before noon.

Contrary to the cuſtom of the French, who are fond of reſorting in an aftertoon to veſpers, the Italians do not attend them. But they croud in the evening to the benediction, which is rendered a moſt glorious ſight by the immenſe ſplendor of lights, and ſolemnity of ſhort prayers ſet to muſic, and the great concourſe of people of faſhion. This laſt is an inducement not to be paſſed unno⯑ticed, as the Italians never like to go to any place not viſited by the ladies. The prieſts and friars, know very well how to fill their churches with ladies, at a benediction, by giving them ſome fine piece of muſic, as they return from their evening walk, to the opera, the converſazione, or the play. The prieſts, by thus filling the church, are ſure to make it turn to their advantage, as they have one or two perſons going round the church collecting alms by [233] means of a bag, faſtened to the end of a long pole.

Few of the very great people are ſcarce ever ſeen at church, they having chapels of their own. This privilege they eaſily obtain from Rome, at a very ſmall expence: and when they have a chapel, ſome poor prieſt is ſoon found, who for a few pence will come to ſay maſs to them, any morning they chuſe.

Such is the general manner, of ſpending a holi⯑day in Italy, with reſpect to the religious duties attending it. There is no need of obſerving, that this account regards only, what is called, the polite part of the nation. As to the lower claſs of people, they are in general ſtrict followers of ſuch modes of worſhip as are preſcribed to them by their eccle⯑ſiaſtical ſuperiors.

It requires the talents of a painter, rather than a writer, to give clear idea of the variety of dreſſes, in the ſeveral parts of Italy. This variety however, appears more in the dreſs of the women, than of the men; and that of the women too, of the lower rank. The men throughout Italy, dreſs, as in moſt other parts, except the Nobles of Venice and Genoa, whoſe habits are peculiar to themſelves, [234] and to thoſe few among their ſubjects in each town, who have the privilege of dreſſing like them. Their dreſs we have already noticed, in our account of thoſe two republican ſtates. At Rome the bet⯑ter ſort of people, and even married men, dreſs for the greater part like abbots: and theſe are all the deviations from the common faſhion, obſervable in Italy among the men. But with regard to the women, it is not an eaſy taſk to deſcribe the pecu⯑liar faſhions of their dreſs in different cities. In ſome parts the women cover only their head; in others their head and ſhoulders, in others again, all the upper part of the body; and ſome their whole figure, from head to foot. In ſome places the women cover their gowns from the waiſt down⯑ward with a black petticoat, as if they wiſhed to conceal the richneſs or elegance of their dreſs.

Gentlemen throughout Italy, in the ſummer months, dreſs in the thinneſt ſilks, and wear velvet in winter, beſides cloth of different kinds and colours; and very much laced and embroidered by thoſe who can afford it, the Italians being as fond of finery as the French. In winter they alſo line their coats with expenſive furs, and in many parts, when young, adorn their hats with feathers. They likewiſe wear large muffs. The men wear ſwords in all parts of Italy, except Venice, where [235] the narrowneſs of the ſtreets and the gondolas would make them inconvenient. Even ſtrangers at Venice, leave their ſwords at home, and put on a cloak.

The pooreſt peaſantry in many parts of Italy, wear neither hat, cravat, ſtockings, nor ſhoes; nay in ſome of the ſouthern provinces, they only put on a coarſe unbuttoned ſhirt and trowſers in ſummer, and wear a very ordinary coat in winter, but ſtill go bare-legged. Yet it is obſervable, that upon the whole they are much larger limbed, and better made than the Piedmonteſe, Lombards, and Venetians, who cloath themſelves much better. The Apulians, and Calabrians eſpecially, are ſpoken of, as the fineſt race of men in Europe, taking the word fine in the ſenſe of painters, and not of young ladies.

The Italians are no great fox-hunters. It is not the cuſtom in Italy, as in England, to go out a fox-chaſing. Perhaps the winters are too cold, and the ſummers too hot, for ſuch diverſion; or it may be the plains are too narrow, the mountains too ſteep, and the rivers too rapid, and too many for this exerciſe. Yet ſome of the Italian princes have their hunting-ſeats, and ſometimes hunt the ſtag, and the wild boar, and even the wolf. But this [236] makes no part of the national character, and in general the Italians are not fond of ſuch dangerous exerciſes. They take more delight in fowling, and laying ſnares for the feathered creation, in which, perhaps, no nation in Europe is ſo dexterous as the Italians, who among other inventions for this purpoſe, have that of the Roccolo, a ſhort ac⯑count of which may not be unacceptable.

A Roccolo is a circular piece of ground, gener⯑ally on an eminence, at ſome diſtance from any wood. This ſpot of ground is planted with trees, in a circular direction. The diameter of the circle may be about thirty or forty feet. Theſe trees are covered on one ſide with a net, which remains upon them, as long as the ſporting time laſts. The area within the circle is alſo planted with trees of a leſs ſize, and has in its center, a green buſhy hut, containing many cages full of thruſhes, bull-finches, chaff-finches, and ſuch kinds of ſmall birds. A little diſtance from theſe cages, there is an owl placed, which has been long uſed to eat his food perching on a ſhort pole, the upper end of which is formed into a kind of ſmall cuſhion, ſtuffed with rags or ſtraw.

On one ſide of the circular row of trees a tower is built, about 20 feet high, the brick work of which, [237] is concealed by leaves and branches of vine, ivy, and other creeping plants.

At that ſeaſon of the year, when birds are on their paſſage to other countries, the Roccoliſta; that is the man who owns a Roccolo, aſcends the tower two or three hours before ſun-riſe. At the top is a ſmall room where he ſtands; and from the window he keeps a ſharp look-out, towards that part of the horizon, from whence the birds come. As ſoon as he ſees or hears any, he gives a jirk to a long ſtring faſtened to the leg of the owl, in the green hut below. The owl with this ſudden jirk falls to the ground, from the pole or cuſhion on which he was reſting, but preſently hops upon it again. The moment however that he falls, he is perceived by the birds in the cage, who gives a ſud⯑den cry, which ſportmen ſay is for joy, pretending that all birds are rejoiced at the ſight of the owl. This cry is heard by the birds flying in the air, who all immediately plunge precipitately into the Roc⯑colo, as if wanting to ſee what was the matter. The Roccoliſta who foreſees what will be the con⯑ſequence of the ſhricks made by his little priſoners in the cages, ſtands prepared with ſeveral ſhort pieces of wood, to throw them at the flying birds. Theſe pieces of wood by the means of ſome wicker work on each ſide, very much reſemble a kite on [238] the wing. As ſoon as the birds approach the ground within the area, without giving them time to alight on the branches of the green hut, he throws as quick as poſſible ſeveral of his falſe kites over their heads, and thus frightens them; upon which, in order to eſcape the mock enemy through the circular trees, they run directly into the net that covers theſe trees; and are thus caught in great numbers, ſometimes a thouſand or more every morning, if their flight was numerous, and the Roccolo in a favourable ſituation; nor does the Roccoliſta deſcend from the tower, till the ſun be⯑comes ſo powerful as to reſtrain the birds from their flight, and oblige them to ſeek ſhelter. The leaſt noiſe in a Roccolo would make the birds keep at a conſiderable diſtance; therefore the Rocco⯑liſta keeps quite ſtill and ſilent, only whiſtling from time to time, through ſeveral tin whiſtles, hanging to his neck, by means of which he mimics with great exactneſs, the chirping of ſeveral kinds of birds. All birds lie very ſtill, when they feel themſelves entangled in a net, except the kite, who is often caught in the Roccolo, when too eager in his purſuit of ſmall birds. A kite as ſoon as he finds himſelf entrapped, ſqueaks out as loud as he can; but there is always a man attending the Roc⯑coliſta, at the bottom of the tower, ready to wring off his neck.

[239]Beſides the Roccolo, and the common method of ſpreading nets, or going out with a fowling-piece, there are divers other ways of catching birds. One, which may be called peculiar to the Italians, is that uſed on thoſe lakes abounding with birds of the web-footed ſort. There, in the proper ſeaſon of the year, a hundred little boats or more, if the breadth of the lakes makes it neceſſary, are pro⯑vided. Each of theſe beſides the rower contains a ſportſman, with a number of hand-guns ready loaded. The boats ſtart all together in a line, from one ſide of the lake, and make towards the oppo⯑ſite, where the game is flown, at the ſight of ſo many boats and people. As the boats approach them, the affrighted birds all riſe in a cloud to a certain height, and fly towards the ſide of the lake, from whence the ſportſmen ſtarted; and as they are paſſing over, each ſportſman diſcharges his fowl⯑ing pieces as faſt as he can, and occaſion many of the birds to fall into the water, and frequently in the boats. As this ſort of ſport is not leſs noiſy than pleaſant, there are many ladies, who partake of it, and prove excellent marks-women, being not in the leaſt afraid of the report of a gun. When the chace is over, the dead fowls are collected, and divided among the ſportſmen.

[240]On the lagunas, round Venice, there is alſo ano⯑ther ſingular method of killing great quantities of the palmipedous birds, which are there in great plenty. Several empty and uncovered tubs are ſunk in the ſhallows, within two or three inches of the brim, and placed at a proper diſtance from each other. A great number of ſportſmen, well pro⯑vided with ſmall fowling pieces, ready loaded, and cartridges to load again, if neceſſary, repair in boats to theſe tubs before break of day; get into them and ſend away the boats. As ſoon as day light ap⯑pears, the birds fly about in ſearch of their food. The ſportſmen, who ſtand peeping over the brim of their tubs, ſhoot at all thoſe which come within their reach. This ſport laſts a good part of the morning, and when it is over, the watermen come and fetch the ſportſmen out of their tubs; row about collecting the dead floating birds; then all go merrily together to land, where the game is fairly divided.

There are many other methods uſed in Italy for making a prey of all kinds of birds, though none ſo ſingular as theſe already mentioned.

Though the better ſort of people among the Ita⯑lians are not very fond of procuring themſelves pleaſure by violent exerciſe, it is otherwiſe with [241] the common people; and the mentioning ſome of their diverſions, which approach the neareſt to the ancient paleſtrical games, will poſſibly not be thought improper, as tending to give a more com⯑plete idea of the manners of the people of this country.

One of the moſt general games, and peculiar to Italy, is the Pallone. A Pallone is a leather ball, filled with hair, about the ſize of a large pumpkin. Twelve perſons generally play at this game; ſix againſt ſix. No one is reckoned a good player who cannot throw the ball to the diſtance of a hun⯑dred yards at leaſt with one blow. The ball is ſtruck with a wooden inſtrument, called a bracciale, which, in ſhape, bears ſome reſemblance to a muff, and is entirely covered with ſhort wooden ſpikes, cut in the form of a diamond.

The player introduces his hand and arm into this inſtrument, almoſt up to his elbow, and firmly graſps a peg fixed acroſs in the inſide of the bracciale. Thus armed, and lightly clad, each player being previouſly poſted at a proper diſtance from each other, they ſet to it with great alertneſs, ſix againſt ſix, and ſtrike the pallone backwards and forwards, with as much ſtrength and dexterity as they can, when it comes in their way, or run to it [242] when at a diſtance, all endeavouring to make it ultimately fall far from themſelves, and into the ground occupied by their antagoniſts, much in the ſame manner as the players of tennis.

This game, which cannot be played but in ſome ſpacious place, and beſt by the ſide of ſome high wall, or long range of building, is very common in ſummer, towards the latter part of the evening, in almoſt all the towns and villages of Italy: It is even uſual for the players of one town to ſend chal⯑lenges to thoſe of another, though at the diſtance of a hundred miles or more, and invite them to try their ſkill for a ſtipulated ſum. On this occa⯑ſion great crowds of people reſort to ſee them play, nor are gentlemen and people of rank ſometimes averſe to be inrolled in the liſt of players.

In the upper parts of Italy they have a cuſtom during the ſpring months, to peel off the bark from a high poplar tree, and ſtrip it of all its branches in ſuch a manner as to make the trunk perfectly ſmooth. When the tree is thus prepared, they hang on the top a conſiderable quantity of hams, fowls, and other eatables, which are not to be pro⯑cured, but by aſcending the tree. The moſt vi⯑gorous of the young peaſants embrace the trunk vigorouſly, and one at a time, as they are drawn by [243] lot: and helping themſelves by faſtening a rope round the tree as they aſcend, alternately tying and untying, they endeavour to obtain the proffered premium. But moſt of them, ſome from a greater and others from a leſſer height, are ſucceſſively borne down; and, for want of ſufficient ſtrength and dexterity, ſlide down with great velocity to the ground, to the no ſmall diverſion of the numerous ſpectators of both ſexes. But he who is ſo robuſt and ſkilful as to reach the top, and throw down the eatables, not only has them to himſelf, but inſtantly becomes ſo great a favourite with the young maidens round the country, that happy is ſhe to whom he deigns to pay his addreſſes, and ſhall aſk in mar⯑riage.

In ſome parts of Piedmont the young peaſants have another method of amuſing themſelves, ſingu⯑lar enough; this is to ſtand erect in their carts, drawn by oxen, intoxicated with wine. Theſe drunken animals, as it may well be imagined, run at a prodigious rate, the moment they are let looſe, pricked and frightened as they are by the ſhoutings and hideous clamour of a numerous rabble. The carts are frequently drawn out of the road, over uneven ground, and not ſeldom overturned in ditches and hollow places, to the great danger of the fellows riding in them, who thus madly expoſe [244] their life and limbs. Yet the vanity of appearing ſuperior to their neighbour, operates alike on the human heart, whether ruſtic or civilized; and the deſire of acquiring diſtinction, as well as the cer⯑tainty, in caſe of good ſucceſs, that they will be⯑come conſiderable in the eyes of their ſweet-hearts, makes the young peaſants of Piedmont venture upon ſo perilous an exploit, with the greateſt intre⯑pidity and alacrity. In this diſtrict of Italy they had alſo the battajola, as they called it; that is a battle, regularly fought every holiday in the after⯑noon, between the inhabitants of one part of Tu⯑rin againſt thoſe of another; the numbers of each ſide being always very much increaſed by the pea⯑ſants. The place of action was under the walls of Turin, on the ſide of the river Po. There the par⯑ties, which ſometimes amounted to ſeveral thou⯑ſands, flung ſtones at each other from ſlings for many hours, with inexpreſſible fury; each party endeavouring to put the oppoſite ſide to flight, and make them priſoners, when they immediately ſhaved their heads, and otherwiſe very much in⯑ſulted them, before they were diſmiſſed. The bat⯑tajola uſually began by boys on both ſides, but ge⯑nerally ended with men, who were gradually fired at the ſight of the combat, and by the yielding of the boys when overpowered by their opponents. Many were the heads broken on ſuch occaſions, and [245] ſcarce a holiday paſſed without ſome perſon being killed. This ancient cuſtom was, in a great mea⯑ſure, aboliſhed by the preſent king, on the mar⯑riage of his third wife; for it happened that the new queen, deſirous of ſeeing the battajola, went with a great retinue, to view it from the gardens belonging to the royal palace, chuſing a place that was thought out of the reach of a ſling. Yet it ſo happened that one of the ſlingers had the inſolence to ſling a ſtone where ſhe was, which ſtruck one of her ladies. This made the King reſolve to put an end to this brutal diverſion by a ſevere proclama⯑tion, and by ſending ſoldiers to diſperſe the rabble, as ſoon as they prepared to aſſemble; ſo that at preſent the battajola conſiſts only of a few daring boys, who go to fight at a much greater diſtance from the town, than they uſed to do before that ac⯑cident happened.

Nor are theſe the only perilous amuſements prac⯑tiſed in Italy. Thoſe who delight in v$ewing prints may poſſibly recollect having ſeen one by a famous maſter, called Il ponte di Piſa, (or the bridge of Piſa) repreſenting a kind of battle, which uſed often to be fought on the bridge of that town, by two parties; the combatants clad in iron armour, with helmets on their heads, and furiouſly wielding heavy clubs, in order to get poſſeſſion of the [246] bridge. Numbers in the ſcuffle had their heads broken, in ſpite of their helmets and armour; and many more were beaten or puſhed headlong into the river Arno, underneath. It is true, that thoſe who thus fell, were immediately taken out of the water by boats, placed in the river on purpoſe; but as too many lives were loſt every year on this bar⯑barous diverſion, Government put a ſtop to it, and only a few boys are now ſuffered to fight occaſion⯑ally with their fiſts, for the conqueſt of this bridge; a practice very cuſtomary at Venice. It is obſerva⯑ble that, in the prints abovementioned, the com⯑batants are repreſented to be naked, though, in fact, they fought completely armed.

Their bull-fights, horſe-races, and regattas we have already noticed, under the articles of Venice, Rome, and Tuſcany. We ſhall therefore conclude this review of the cuſtoms and manners of the Ita⯑lians, with a ſhort account of their in-door amuſe⯑ments; particularly their games of cards, ſome of which appear more complicated than ours.

That man, ſays Barelli, would certainly appear extraordinary, if not ridiculous, who ſhould at⯑tempt to appreciate the different degrees of mental power, poſſeſſed by the principal European na⯑tions, by drawing inferences from thoſe portions of [247] wit neceſſarily employed, when they play at their national games. Forbearing, therefore, to enter into this ſubtle diſquiſition, ſays the above writer, I will only obſerve, that it is not without reaſon the Engliſh are proud of their game of whiſt, the French of picquet, and the Spaniards of ombre, three of the beſt games of cards poſſeſſed by theſe nations. To obtain a victory, or prevent being de⯑feated, at any of them, requires ſo much quickneſs and ſagacity, that no wonder even men of good parts are flattered, when praiſed for their ſkill in either of theſe games.

Which of them demands moſt ſkill I will not take upon me to determine; but this I will ven⯑ture to affirm, that three or four of our Italian games of cards are as much ſuperior in this reſpect to whiſt, picquet, and ombre, as cheſs is to Poliſh drafts. The games I mean, are thoſe which we form out of thoſe cards called Minchiate and Taroc⯑co's: the firſt played all over Tuſcany, and in the dominions of the Pope; the ſecond, in Piedmont and Lombardy. I crave the indulgence of the reader for endeavouring to give him ſome idea of both theſe games, to make him ſenſible that the Italians, who have often appeared great in thoſe arts, conſidered great by mankind, are alſo great in thoſe that mankind regard as little.

[248]Both the minchiate and the taroccos conſiſt of five ſuits inſtead of four, as in other packs of cards. Four of theſe five ſuits correſpond with the four ſuits of the common cards, with the addition only of one card to the three figured ones in each ſuit; ſo that, inſtead of king, queen, and knave, we have king, queen, knight, and knave. As to the fifth ſuit it conſiſts of 41 cards in the minchiate, and 22 in the taroccos; and this fifth ſuit is called by a name anſwering to trumps in Engliſh. Both theſe games may be played by only two or three people ſeveral ways; but the moſt ingenious, and the moſt in uſe, are two or three games played by four peo⯑ple, more eſpecially one which is played by one againſt three, in the ſame manner as ombre, and another played two againſt two, ſomething like whiſt.

By this the reader will ſee, that each of theſe games muſt neceſſarily be much ſuperior to whiſt and ombre, on account of the greater number of combinations produced, either by the 97 cards of the minchiate, or by the 78 of the tarocco; which combinations cannot but give a larger ſcope to the imagination, than the leſſer number of 40 at ombre, or 52 at whiſt, and oblige the player to exert his memory and judgment more than at the latter of theſe games.

[249]Strangers object to the games of minchiate and tarocco, becauſe they produce ſo many combi⯑nations as to prove fatiguing; but if this argu⯑ment carries conviction, we muſt of courſe con⯑clude, that cheſs is leſs delightful than loo, becauſe it forces the mind to a greater recollection of its powers than loo. This reaſoning is certainly juſt, with regard to ſluggiſh minds, but will not hold with reſpect to thoſe that are lively and compre⯑henſive. Thoſe Italians, however, whoſe minds are much too contracted and diſproportionate to the taroccos and minchiate; or who do not chooſe to exert their talents too much, have ſtill the means of diverting themſelves with ſeveral other games of cards, that require no greater compaſs of imagina⯑tion, or ſtrength of memory and underſtanding, than whiſt, picquet, and ombre; and others ſtill, pretty nearly on a footing with humble loo itſelf.

"Many ſtrangers (concludes Barretti) are ſur⯑prized that the Italians learn their games with ſo much facility, as in a little time to play at them with as much addreſs as the beſt players among themſelves. Hence they infer that Italy abounds in gamblers more than other countries; but would they not ſpeak with greater juſtneſs, were they pleaſed to ſay—that the Italians, accuſtomed to [250] more complicated games, eaſily learn thoſe which, comparatively ſpeaking, require leſs wit, and leſs attention?"

CHAP. XXIV. Of the preſent State of Italian Literature, and of the learned Profeſſions in Italy.

LEARNING is now cultivated in Italy, as well as in other parts of Europe, more out of regard to its uſe and convenience in common life, than from any great hopes, by its means, of acquir⯑ing honour or emoluments. The ſtock of books, on all kinds of ſubjects, is become ſo ample, that learned and ingenious men cannot now have that facility which their predeceſſors had, of making themſelves known to their cotemporaries, and re⯑commending themſelves to public notice, by hand⯑ling any new ſubject. A Cardinal's hat is not now to be graſped by climbing the ladders of Greek and Latin; a learned man may, indeed, obtain ſome [251] petty advantages by his induſtry, or by chance; but a biſhopric in Italy, as well as in England, is ſeldom the reward of merit and learning. "What⯑ever a ſtudious recluſe, ſurrounded by his books, may think of the illuſtrious age of Leo, when I con⯑ſider the wonderful progreſs, (ſays Baretti) that all ſciences have made in Europe, within theſe three laſt centuries, I am tempted to think that, excluſive of the knowledge of the learned languages, the li⯑terature of the Engliſh women alone, would prove not much inferior to the real knowledge of that il⯑luſtrious age, with which ſhallow ſatyriſts, and peeviſh poets, of all countries, reproach the degene⯑racy of their own."

Granting, however, that the modern Italians are not ſo ſtudious and learned as their cinquecentiſti an⯑ceſtors of Leo's age (a name given to the learned of the 16th century) yet it is preſumptuous in fo⯑reigners to ſuppoſe the Italians are quite deſtitute of literary merit.

Let any Engliſhman enter the public libraries of Italy, and he will no longer boaſt thoſe of Oxford, Cambridge, and the Muſeum. The libraries of Milan, Venice, Florence, and Rome, ſtand in no need of additional ſhelves to vic with the moſt fa⯑mous Engliſh ones. Miſſon, in his Travels, reckons [152] 14 in Venice alone, ſome larger than that of St. Mark, and almoſt all public. In Turin, Pavia, Parma, Padua, Piſa, Modena, Bologna, and Na⯑ples, there are likewiſe ample collections of books for public uſe; nor is there ſcarce a town or a convent in Italy without a public or private library.

It would be endleſs to enumerate all the ſtores of learning thus accumulated in various parts of Italy; and the Italians are not ſo abſurd to keep their libraries for meer ſhew, or for the pleaſure of feed⯑ing moths and mice. Many learned men are to be found in them, whoſe lives were early devoted to the acquiſition of knowledge. Ambition and cu⯑rioſity act upon the inhabitants of Italy with full as much vigour as they do in other countries.

But few are the cultivators of ſcience whoſe names are wafted by fame to diſtant regions, during their lives; the greateſt part muſt be content to enjoy re⯑nown only in thoſe places which gave them birth. They cannot all have a King of Pruſſia for a patron and panegyriſt, who will deign to gild the ſilver of Voltaire, and the copper of Algarotti.

Though extended literary reputation, however, be ſcarce attainable by the ſons of learning, while [153] they live; and though the approaches towards it be gradual and ſlow, yet the names of ſome living authors have reached England, and other parts of Europe; and thoſe of Metaſtaſio, the Poet; Mor⯑gagni, the Anatomiſt; Friſio, the Mathematician; and Father Beccaria, the Electric Philoſopher; are not unknown on the other ſide of the Alps.

After this ſlight ſketch of their literature, it may not be amiſs to mention the advantages which the Italians may reaſonably expect from applying them⯑ſelves to a life of ſtudy. An information of this kind will lead our Engliſh readers into an acquaint⯑ance with ſuch parts of their cuſtoms, as no other traveller has yet made an object of his attention.

In Italy, when a young man is trained up to phyſic, he has it in his power to get his livelihood in a very ſhort time; if he will apply to it in ſuch a manner as to acquire reputation. On quitting the univerſity, which is generally done after a reſidence of ſeven years, and having took all his degrees, he goes to ſerve as a volunteer in ſome great hoſpital, or puts himſelf to a kind of apprenticeſhip with one of the moſt eminent phyſicians in a capital town; that he may now learn the practice, as he is ſuppoſed to have already done the theory of the art.

[254]The Italian phyſicians viſit all their patients, with their pupils conſtantly attending them, whom they oblige to inſpect minutely all the diſorders that fall in their way, and notice the remedies they preſcribe.

This kind of life they generally follow, till an op⯑portunity offers of being choſen phyſician to an hoſpital, or to go in the ſame capacity to ſome ſmall town or village. When a vacancy offers, there are generally ſeveral competitors. But the young phyſician who has acquired the beſt cha⯑racter for ſkill in his profeſſion, and prudence in private life, has moſt chance of ſucceeding in his application. His ſucceſs however depends on the ſuffrages of the corporation, who are not always in⯑fluenced in their choice by ſuperior merit. Par⯑tiality will ſometimes interfere, and give an ap⯑pointment to one, which ought to be beſtowed on another.

When the appointment is obtained, the young practitioner keeps it till he hears of a better, and then offers himſelf a candidate for that. By theſe means they ſhift from place to place, that is, from a ſmaller appointment to a greater.

[255]No patient, in any provincial town, is obliged to fee the phyſician for his attendance, as he is allowed by the corporation a ſalary for that pur⯑poſe. All families, however, whether they have occaſion for one or not, ſend him ſome little pre⯑ſent at Eaſter and Chriſtmas; which conſiſts of a lamb or kid, hams, ſauſages, capons, game, oil, wine, corn, or the like. The pooreſt peaſant would be aſhamed not to ſend at leaſt a couple of fowls to his phyſician, during the holidays.

If a village is ſo ſmall as not to afford a ſuf⯑ficient ſalary, it is annexed to one or two more in the neighbourhood, and the phyſician is then enabled to keep a horſe or a chaiſe. It is alſo the buſineſs of the corporation to provide a lodging for him, when he is obliged to make a ſtay among them, and be abſent from his uſual place of reſidence. If the place, on the contrary, is too large for one phyſician, the corporation calls in the aſſiſtance of another, who is paid and elected like the firſt.

The ſalaries, with the preſents, are equivalent, upon a medium, to a capitation of two ſhillings per head; and few of the appointments contain leſs than 300 ſouls; nor do they, in general, ex⯑ceed 7 or 800. So the provincial phyſicians get about 30 or 40l. a-year, in the ſmalleſt places [256] and about 70 or 80 in the largeſt; and either of theſe afford a ſufficient competence, as there is no provincial town in Italy, where a middling fa⯑mily may not be decently maintained with the ſmalleſt of theſe ſums.

All phyſicians, however, do not proceed in this manner. Some act for many years as ſubſtitutes for their principals, and ſet up in great cities, where many of them have acquired very eaſy fortunes.

Whether this method of proceeding, with regard to the practice of phyſic, be preferable to that uſed in England, I will not take upon me to determine. It may perhaps be leſs lucrative to ſome of the pro⯑feſſors of medicine. But it ſeems more uſeful to the people, who are much better accommodated with the aid of phyſicians, regularly bred, than the lower claſs of people in England.

The young men who apply themſelves to Sur⯑gery, go through life in a ſimilar manner. As for the apothecaries, any perſon who chooſes it, may ſet up for one, after having undergone proper exa⯑minations. But the phyſicians in every place, are obliged to viſit, at leaſt once a year, the ſhops of the [257] apothecaries, where they have power to deſtroy all the decayed and bad drugs.

With regard to thoſe who apply themſelves to the ſtudy of the law, they are more dependent on go⯑vernment, than the other profeſſions; being ſent, after they have quitted the univerſities, as Podeſtas, or judges in different parts of the provinces. There a young lawyer adminiſters both civil and criminal juſtice, in caſes of leſſer moment; but in thoſe of importance, people muſt reſort to higher tribu⯑nals.

When a young Podeſta has thus adminiſtered juſtice for three years, a Syndic is ſent to make the tour of all the places, where the Podeſtas reſide. Public notice is then given in each reſpective place, of the arrival of the Syndic, and every perſon, with⯑out exception, is at liberty to lay before him any complaint againſt the Podeſta. Theſe complaints are immediately tranſmitted by the Syndic, to the higheſt magiſtrate of the ſtate, and by him ex⯑amined. If found trifling, or ill-grounded, they are diſmiſſed, but if juſt, redreſſed. But a Podeſta has little chance of being promoted to a more lucrative part, if it ſhould appear that he has not adminiſtered juſtice with impartiality. If he has, he is ſent to a more profitable place for another triennium, and ſo [258] on; nor is any Podeſta ever kept more than three years in the ſame place, that he may not contract ſtrong attachments to particular people, or run into any danger of partiality.

Beſides applying for theſe poſts, the young ſtu⯑dents take up the profeſſion of advocate, in great cities, and have clients, much in the ſame manner as the counſellors in England. In this line of life, they generally fare as in England, according to their abilities and eloquence: and from this claſs, the chief magiſtrates and ſuperior judges are choſen by government.

What the government does with reſpect to the law ſtudents, the biſhops do with regard to thoſe in di⯑vinity. Theſe are ſent as curates, rectors, or vi⯑cars, from the capital towns, to the villages, or ſmall places in their diſtrict, as ſoon as they have obtained the order of Prieſthood. But they are not removed triennally as the Podeſtas. They ſucceed like phyſicians to vacancies in the different towns and villages; and he who is thought beſt qualified, is generally preferred by the electors appointed by the biſhop.

The reader is not to ſuppoſe theſe cuſtoms to be univerſal throughout Italy. The country being di⯑vided [259] into many ſovereignties of different forms, the laws and cuſtoms muſt conſequently differ. Yet this, in the main, is the plan which each of them follow, with reſpect to the three profeſſions of law, phyſic, and divinity.

Beſides theſe channels, which the literati of Italy have open to them for honours and emolument, and through which they may advance to the higheſt poſts in church and ſtate; the univerſities are alſo open to them; and to obtain the chairs of profeſ⯑ſors, generally depends on their reputation for learn⯑ing. The ſalaries annexed to the profeſſions, are partly paid by government, and ariſe partly from fees and perquiſites. Few of the Italian univerſities have lands and funds of their own, like thoſe of Ox⯑ford and Cambridge.

When a perſon is choſen profeſſor, he has only to continue reading his lecture, and acquire learning and credit; and he may be certain to end his days in eaſy circumſtances, if he arrives at old age, his ſalary being generally augmented every ſeven years. After 14 years, he is at liberty to quit the univerſity, and retire on half pay, and frequently receives the whole, if he has rendered himſelf uſeful and con⯑ſpicuous.

[260]The diviſion of Italy into ſo many ſtates, makes the inhabitants of different governments almoſt as much ſtrangers to each other, as if they inhabited ſo many iſlands; they ſeldom travelling into each others territories. This obſtructs the enlargement of our capital cities, which cannot all be ſwallowed up in one, like London and Paris. A country ſo conſtituted, cannot afford the means of any conſi⯑derable pecuniary advantage to ſuch as devote their lives to thoſe kinds of literature, independent of the three learned profeſſions. Hence the writer who applies to poetry, hiſtory, aſtronomy, botany, and other branches of ornamental literature, cannot raiſe contributions on the public, as in Paris and London. They have likewiſe to encounter many difficulties in the publication. Nothing is ſuffered to be printed in Italy, without being firſt licenced by two, and ſometimes more, reviſers, appointed by the civil and eccleſiaſtical powers. Theſe reviſers are to peruſe every manuſcript intended for the preſs; and ſome⯑times their timidity or ignorance; at others, their vanity or ill-humour, raiſe ſo many objections, that a poor author is quite ſurfeited of his own pro⯑ductions. This ordeal trial is very troubleſome, and ſhould the cuſtom be now revived in England, few writers would have phlegm enough to ſubmit to it. Long uſe, however, has reconciled it to the Italians, [261] and few printers there, will dare to violate the law, and print a book ſecretly.

Were this privilege of printing books, ad libitum, admitted in Italy, it would not fail, ſays Baretti, of being miſchievous to the different ſtates, without encreaſing knowledge in proportion. Such a free⯑dom would hardly contribute to multiply the Me⯑taſtaſios and Gozzis or the Finettis and Morgagnis. But on the other hand, it would ſoon degenerate into licentiouſneſs, and the times of the obſcene Arelinos, and the atheiſtical Brunos would pre⯑ſently be revived. Every ſcribbling Abatino of Rome, would then declaim in the moſt virulent manner againſt kings and emperors, did they declare war, or make peace in oppoſition to the intereſts of the Apoſtolic See. A ragged Birricchino of Bologna, would beſmear, with his blackeſt ink, the hand⯑ſomeſt queens for encouraging foreign manufac⯑turers to ſettle in their dominions; and a ſtupid Laz⯑zerone of Naples, would be laviſh of the vileſt epi⯑thets on any little republic, that ſhould permit their ſhip-wrights to build men of war, and ſell them to thoſe, who have money enough to purchaſe them. No public character would find ſhelter againſt that deluge of outrageous ſatire, which would flow from the Italian pens, and every private reputation would [262] be at the mercy of any ſcoundrel that could rhyme.

In moſt of the Italian ſtates, very few individuals have their ſleep interrupted by the political mea⯑ſures of their reſpective governments; but were our preſs ſet free, continues Baretti, many an oilman of Lucca, many a wine-merchant of Empoli, and many a tallow-chandler of Modena would pretend to be wiſer than ſecretaries of ſtate; and wonder that kings and queens had not taken them from their counters, and raiſed them to the higheſt employ⯑ments. Sedition, defamation, profaneneſs, and ri⯑baldry, would then quickly circulate through all our towns, villages, and hamlets. Irreligion would be ſubſtituted for bigotry and ſuperſtition: the pope would be called anti-chriſt, and mother-church a whore. Such would be the bleſſed effects of a free preſs in Italy, could we ever be indulged in it.

CHAP. XXV. Marriages and Funerals.

WITH reſpect to their marriages and funerals, people marry in Italy, as in England, after the publication of three banns; and a diſpenſation is eaſily to be procured there, as well as here, by thoſe who do not chooſe to be married in a church. Great dinners and ſuppers are uſual on ſuch occaſi⯑ons, in both countries; that is, among the middle and lower claſs of people, who adhere longeſt to old cuſtoms, and whoſe uſages form the principal part of the national manners. Congratulations are cuſtomary on ſuch occaſions.

As for their funerals, little more need be ſaid reſpecting them, but that the people in Italy are generally buried in their pariſh-church or church⯑yard; but few corpſes are ſent to diſtant places, to be interred in family vaults, as is the cuſtom in England, becauſe the Italians live in cities, and not at their country-ſeats, like the Engliſh nobility and gentry.

[264]The principal difference between the two na⯑tions is, that a corpſe in Italy is generally eſcorted to the place of interment by a large proceſſion of prieſts, friars, and orphans, of both ſexes, main⯑tained in hoſpitals; all with lighted tapers in their hands, and ſinging penitentiary pſalms, litanies and other compoſitions adapted to the occaſion. And ſuch proceſſions are longer or ſhorter; that is, more or leſs expenſive, according to the directions of the teſtator, or thoſe, whoſe office it is to provide for the funeral.

In travelling through Italy, a ſtranger ſhould endea⯑vour, on reaching the firſt town, to obtain as many letters of recommendation as he can, to take along with him as he advances further into the coun⯑try. The nobility of every place, and particularly the literati, will be pleaſed to give ſuch letters, and the people to whom he will be thus recommended, will ſtill addreſs him to others; ſo that in arriving in any city, he will have perſons to converſe with, and they will be all glad of doing ſome of thoſe petty offices, which render travelling agreeable. He may indeed, often find that the perſons to whom he is re⯑commended, are not in every reſpect, ſuch as he would like. One will be over civil, another over blunt; one will be abſurd in one particular, and others in ſeveral, but people muſt be taken as they [265] are. Perfect characters are uncommon every where. A ſtranger, therefore, ſhould make the beſt uſe of each. One will ſhew the place; another his pic⯑tures; a third his medals, and ſo on. Nor ſhould he omit, if he makes the leaſt ſtay in any place, to enquire who are the friars of moſt repute, and pay them a viſit. To a friar, there is no need of any introduction. It is enough that you pay them the uſual compliment, by telling them, you have heard of their merit, and therefore could not miſs the op⯑portunity of paying your reſpects to them. They will all be extremely civil, ſhew their convents, their libraries, their gardens, and whatever curi⯑oſities they have. They will give every informa⯑tion of their rules and manner of living, which is pretty ſingular in each convent, and merits notice. Moſt of them are very frank and open with ſtrangers, ſo that it may be eaſily collected from their diſcourſe, what is their ſanctity or hypocriſy, their knowledge or ignorance, their pleaſures or their pains. Nor ſhould they be judged from the coun⯑tenance they put on at the altar, or in a proceſſion. They muſt be ſeen in their cells, and at their tables where the rules of their order permit them to eat and drink with ſtrangers: and thus he will come to the knowledge of as ſingular a ſet of men, as ever attracted philoſophical curioſity. A traveller ſhould [266] ſhun nothing, ſlight nothing; if he is in danger from general intercourſe, he is not fit to travel.

Some writers aſſert, that the bread and wine are bad throughout Italy, particularly the wine. This is not true. The poor people in ſeveral parts of Italy, often eat bread that is very indifferent; but people in eaſy circumſtances, eat good bread every where. As to the wine, there is ſome very good in many parts of Italy, without a perſon is determined to allow no wine to be good, but claret and bur⯑gundy. And even theſe wines are to be met with in all great towns, and it is only for a ſtranger to take half a dozen bottles in his carriage, to ſerve him from one town to another. The like may be ob⯑ſerved with reſpect to hams, ſauſages, or fowls, which may be carried, made ready for the pot or ſpit, with very little trouble.

The beds, indeed, are bad enough in many places, and a ſtranger in travelling, ſhould endeavour never to ſleep but in his own ſheets; becauſe the inn-keepers, when poor, are in general very ill ſtocked with linen; and to ſave their credit, will ſwear no perſon has ſlept in the ſheets they offer, though the contrary is very evident; nor would it be amiſs to have a thin mattraſs, ſtuffed with feathers or Spaniſh wool, to throw over the mattraſſes of the inn.

[267]Some young travellers are very apt to be rude with the maid-ſervants at inns. They had better make their propoſal, and had ſtill better let it alone; for little good will they get either by their rudeneſs or their propoſals. If the nymph be willing, there is danger on one ſide, if unwilling, at another. The common people in Italy, are generally very fierce, where women are concerned. Care ſhould be taken not to be over buſy with actreſſes and fi⯑gurantes, ſays Baretti, for they will both fleece a ſtranger, and bring him acquainted with ſurgeons and apothecaries.

Altercations with inn-keepers, poſtillions, and ſuch kinds of people, ſhould by all means be avoid⯑ed, and a traveller ſhould be particularly on his guard, never to forget himſelf ſo far, as to ſtrike any of them; for they are moſt of them very choleric, and there is no honour to be got by conquering them. Impetuous characters are diſliked every where, and it is not to be imagined, how much the common people of Italy deteſt being bullied, eſpecially by ſtrangers. An open countenance, an affable look, a kind enquiry after their chriſtian names, and the offer of a glaſs of wine, if at meals, will do wonders towards obtaining whatever may be wanted of them: for the Italians have in general quick feelings, are of a yielding diſpoſition, and as generous a ſet of [268] mortals, as any in the world. If ſome rules of this ſort are not previouſly laid down, travelling will be no better than a continual ſcene of vexation and wrangling, not only in Italy, but in all countries

Credit not your travel writers, ſays Baretti, about the character of the Italians, or your imagination will be diſturbed by the moſt horrible tales. There is ſcarce one of them who has not ſome ſtory to tell of a fellow in a church, who has ſtabbed dif⯑ferent people. Yet, all over Italy, in towns or vil⯑lages, on great roads, or along narrow paths, a tra⯑veller may be aſſured, that no perſon will offend him, if he does not chooſe to be offended: but on the contrary, he will meet with abundance of kind⯑neſs and reſpect, if he will but moderately deſerve it.

All this pre-ſuppoſes ſome knowledge of the lan⯑guage, otherwiſe travelling in any country is diſa⯑greeable and vexatious. Should he, however, be unprovided in this reſpect, let him haſten to Flo⯑rence or Sienne, though Florence is preferable, and labour till he has acquired a proficiency of the lan⯑guage. If he wiſhes to be any thing of a critic in Italian, Florence is the beſt place in all Italy, both to obtain a good phraſeology, and a good pro⯑nunciation, as Florence is in both reſpects to Italy, what Athens was to Greece.