Monday August 3rd 1863 -
The villagers kept up their festa all day today with unde-
-minished energy. We all began to feel a little nervous from the music,
each piece of which had been repeated ad nauseam. The avvocato Molino
came this evening to pay his respects. He is a learned man, has a library of
his own consisting of some eight thousand volumes, and though priggish in his
manners is not unfamiliar with the customs of society. Unluckily he talks with
the energy and speed of a locomotive under full head, and as he pronounces
French after the manner of the Piedmontese it is not easy to follow him.
Fortunately it is never necessary to answer him, so that no awkwardness grows
out of his unintelligibility. We get a new scrap of home news almost
every day now either by telegram or through our own papers. These last
take up an immense deal of time now that we are free from the man-
-uscript and have the leisure to spare for them. Indeed letter-writing uses up
nearly all the rest and I find I am scarcely able to do more in some
directions than I was before.
Tuesday Aug. 4th
Every Post brings fresh good news from America so far as Federal
victories are concerned, but today our feelings of joy in the brightening prospects of our country
were painfully damped by a sad heartbroken letter from Mr Powers announcing the
death of his daughter Florence, a girl of seventeen, and regarded by all who know the
family as the real genius among his children. Florence was not beautiful, and has
for years fr been suffering from a rhumatic affection which frequently attacked the heart,
but she was lovely in her character, and every touch of her pencil was inspiration. This
will be a terrible blow to Mr and Mrs Powers, as well as a great grief to the brothers
and sisters.
Wednesday August 5th
Writing letters, reading German fairy tales with Carrie, and a stupid
part of one of Maurice Sand's stories, Callirhoé, took up the morning till Post time.
Gaetano brought nothing but the Daily News, the American portion of which we soon
devoured, after which Mr Marsh read Buckle to me till dinner-time. We see no
reason to change our opinion of the book as we proceed. It is astonishing that he
does not see that the New Testament furnishes a simple key to unlock all the mysteries
of human history, at least all such as he can ever hope to explain by his own
method. Nor is the conclusion different. He says that all men under like circumstances
will probably act alike, and so says Divine Truth - 'They are all gone out of the
way &c.' Who that knows his own heart dares to say: 'had I been tempted like this
Barabbas I should not have fallen'? All Buckle's statistics showing that, given
the conditions, the amount of crime may be foretold, are but simple illustrations
of the great truth revealed to us before the days of Mr Buckle that human nature
is weak, frail, and more readily inclined to evil than to good; but when he
infers from his statistics that man is not a free agent, has neither by Nature
nor by Grace, the power to resist the iron necessity that controls him, this is
another thing, and one of which I shall remain unconvinced until I am forced
to acknowledge that our natural instincts are utterly false, lying witnesses, the offspring
of a lying necessity. After dinner Mr Marsh went to see Signor Molino,
and Carrie and I seated ourselves on the terrace to look out for meteors, but
thin clouds soon came up and spoiled our star-gazing.
Thursday August 6th
Mr Marsh's morning trip to Turin, return with papers &c was
the only joy in our beaten track. The papers too, contained only old news. I was
sorry to see however the Gallenga's first letters from America are as false
as those of his predecessor. He boldly asserts that the New York Herald is a
semi-official paper. Gallenga's whole life and history are too well known
to admit of much surprise at anything he may do for a consideration,
but it is mournful nevertheless
Friday August 7th.
We added some pages of Pasquale Du Pra's Il Parliamento
Italiano to our other reading today. Du Pra is an extremely able man who
has proved his patriotism by unflinching endurance of persecution and exile. He is a
thorough liberal in his politics, and anti-Romish in his creed. His friendship for Gen.
Cluseret once gave me an opportunity of an hour's talk with him which left
a very favourable impression in my mind. I have since heard with pain
that his wife complains bitterly of his treatment of her, and that his daughter, who
is at school in Turin, speaks openly of her father as un scélérat. I believe
that if the facts are ever really clearly known the difficulty between Mr Du Pra
and his wife will be found to arise from the fact that she believes in the
spiritual power of the priests and he does not. This horrid system of confession
is almost invariably the cause of the numberless family-difficulties existing everywhere
in catholic Europe. Of course it is not strange that the daughter, whose mother
has placed her in a catholic school or convent for education, should regard
her heretical father as a scélérat - a "vaut-rien" as our friend the Baron
Gautier, who never lifted his hand in his life either [illegible] to help himself or the
great interests of society around him, says of poor Campazzi, who earns
his bread by the sweat of his brow, and who devotes every leisure moment to look
after the education and the well-being of those poorer than himself. The
temperature today was as high as 86 1/2 Fahr., but there was a slight breeze and
it was not oppressive. The starlight-evening was glorious.
Saturday Aug. 8th The thermometer rose to 88 1/2 Fahr. today - warmer
than we have ever before seen it in Piedmont, but there was air stirring and
it was not in the least uncomfortable for one sitting quietly. Our ordinary oc-
-cupations were interrupted only by the coming of Mr Artoni to dinner. We
hoped to learn from him the explanation of the change in the English Embassy
from Sir James Hudson to Mr Elliott. Rumour says Sir James insisted on
withdrawing and intends to live at Florence.
Sunday Aug. 9th
We managed to get the thermometer up another degree
today 89 1/2. The telegram this evening brings no important news of military
operations in the United States, but announces the election of the Emperour
Arch-duke
Maximilian
to the throne of Mexico by certain nobles, and with the prospective approval
of the people. We have been looking for this new coup d'etat from that old
fox Napoleon, but I will venture to prophesy that the United States of America
will make him repent this step, and still more bitterly if he takes the one
now talked of, of forming an alliance with the Southern States. I have no
doubt that the unprincipled leaders of the rebellion are desperate enough now to
promise to accept a French Prince in case Napoleon will join them against
us - but whether he will really dare to go so far is not so easy to say. What he
would like to do is clear enough, what he dares to do time must show. As
soon as we saw some days ago that the French at New Orleans had asked
for a French frigate to protect them in case of a slave-insurrection we knew in
an instant that this request was dictated at Paris and was part and parcel of
the Mexican operations. As to the Emperour's European schemes it is rather a flight
of fancy to attempt to divine them. But I believe there is an understanding between
him and Austria that he is to have Venice in return for Mexico. This he will mag-
-nanimously hand over to Italy and then seize upon, or rather make, a pretext
for taking possession of the two Sicilies for his own family, or perhaps Sardinia
or both - and Italy will have to submit to it a fight. England in the
meantime looks on, seeing the game very imperfectly, indignant at the aggressions
of Napoleon, and not daring to put the least check upon them. Perhaps she may by
and bye begin to see that it would have been as well, even for her own interests, if
she had been less anxious to cripple us. Will she find Louis Napoleon a safer neighbor
for her West India possessions than we have been? Possibly not. Next Saturday
is the Emperour's fête, and I suppose Mr Marsh will have to dine with Mr Sartiges
in
in
case we are not in the mountains. If he does I have begged him
to tell the French Minister that he cannot congratulate the newly-elected
Maximilian, as he might have done, had not his
own
knowledge of the North-
American climate taught him that it would not agree with Emperors.
If left to himself I am sure he would say something even sharper than
this, and I have only presumed to suggest by way of softening.
Monday August 10th.
Mr Marsh brought nothing new from Turin except a
family-letter of interest. It was from Alick, giving an account of his first
battle, of his Libby Prison experiences and others in Dixie He says his little
band of 1600 - the rest having fled almost at the beginning of the fight -
sustained themselves four or five hours against five times their numbers,
which they could not have done of course had they not been in a very
sheltered position. He has however a bullet-hole through his coat-sleeve
to show for it, and his bridle-rein was cut off by a shot three inches
from his hand. We had quite a severe thunder-shower today, which
was rather welcome as the thermometer stood at 89 1/2 when it
came up.
Tuesday Aug 11th -
It required a strong effort of will this morning to gather
up my little strength, and leave my bed to receive Mr & Mrs Tottenham and
their daughter who came out in the mid-day train. We had a very
pleasant day and they seemed to enjoy it very much. Sir James, it
seems, did not resign but was recalled because there was an Elliott
to be provided for. Mr Elliott is a brother-in-law of Earl Russell,
has a family and his course at Naples was satisfactory to the Italians
generally. I hope we may find them good specimens of their
nation, but I am afraid neither we nor they are in a humour
to take to each other. Poor Mrs Stanley has at last come
to an open rupture with her husband and for the present they
have parted with mutual consent. It appears that when she
engaged herself to Mr S_. she knew of his gaming habits
and had the courage to accept his promise of amendment,
paid 5000 pounds to clear him of his debts of honour, and
then fared as she might have expected. He returned to the
table, and during their married life she has paid 15000 pounds
more! Now, having nothing left but her annuity, and being
ill-treated besides, she leaves him. I cannot help asking
myself whether it is these trials that have made her so
scatterbrained, or whether it is her want of head that has
led her into these trials. Mr Stanley looks like a man
that a woman of good-sense and firmness with one half of
Mrs Stanley's unselfishness, might manage. They tell a funny
anecdote of Mrs S_ and her lawyer. She had just finished
the story of her wrongs and her humiliations, had signed some
very important papers which left her with nothing in the world
but her small annuity from her father's estate, the wife of
the advocate was in tears, and he himself sitting with his
hands over his face when Mrs Stanley exclaimed: "Ah! signore,
lei non ha dimenticato i franchi-bolli?" "Dio mio," cried
the astonished Italian dropping his hands, "pensavo a tutt'altro!"
The Duchess Sforza who knew that the separation had
been decided upon, went the same day to ask Mrs Stanley
to take a drive with her, thinking she might soothe
her a little in this way. Mrs S__ accepted thankfully, but
told her she was very anxious to match certain buttons
if she wouldn't mind taking her to a shop, which she
did accordingly! It proved difficult - Mrs S. spent an hour
in searching zealously after the buttons, seemed to have nothing
else on her mind, and then the Duchess took her home!
And yet it would be wrong
to conclude
from all this that Mrs S__
does not suffer. She certainly does in her way.
There is another addition to the Diplomatic Corps in the
very large person of a certain Mr Rosencranz chargé from
Denmark. Odd stories have preceded him, some of which
if not true are at least amusing. It seems that bathing is his
favorite amusement, and he is not at all particular as to times
and places, a [illegible] roadside pump answering his purpose as well
as a retired bathing-room. He has also a passion for a morning
air-bath which he took regularly near London every morning
on an open balcony. An American neighbor opposite sent him
word that he objected to this out of regard to his
own
family.
The fur fiery Dane answered: "I shall do what I please
on my own balcony," "and I shall do what I please on
mine" retorted the American. "I will shoot you with
my revolver the next time you show yourself in that
shameless way!" He was seen no more. It always
diverts me to notice that it is necessarily an American who
figures in an anecdote of this sort. All summary proceedings
are laid at the door of my fellow country-men, but young
Europe takes great pride in imitating the example.
Wednesday August 12th
The American papers are very
stormy on the subject of the new Empire in Mexico, though
they make no threats, nor do they attempt to say what
our government will do. The English Daily News
is, if possible, even more indignant. The war-news
from home is for the most part very satisfactory.
"Jesu Maria! to what saint shall I commend them.'
said a poor woman to Giachino this morning when she gave
her something from us to take her to the baths of Acqua - "there
is no saint good enough for them!" G__ explained to her that
we should be p best pleased if she would pray directly
to Heaven for us - that we didn't much mind the saints
as helpers etc - I am afraid the poor creature will expect
no blessing on her journey after this.
Thursday Aug. 13th
We had no American dispatch today, in
our papers, though Mr Clay saw one in a Paris journal
- not important. The Daily News bitterly opposes the French
occupation in Mexico, but the L. Times thinks it is a good
thing, as it may prevent the restauration
restoration
of the American
Union which, it has to admit, might otherwise be possible.
I am intensely anxious to hear what our government will say
of the new Empire. I fear it will not feel itself in a
position to protest, but I heartily pray it may. Judging from
the last news it seems as if the p President was really [illegible]
going to allow Governor Seymour to raise the number of
soldiers required of New York in his own way, and so
virtually allow that vile Irish mob with old Hughes and Fernando
Wood at its head to dictate laws to the city and the State, or
rather to the general government itself. Oh, for a man,
a man, a man!
Friday Aug. 14th
Today we are told the draft in New York will
certainly be carried out. It would not be strange if the government itself
were as undecided in its resolves as the papers are contradictory in their
statements. [Image] Carrie returned to town with Miss Tottenham to dine with the
Pulszkys tomorrow as they are to set out for Florence on Sunday. Mr
Pulszky has taken the Palazzo Pietrovitch near the Boboli gardens and
says he intends to pack out there (aus packen) all his treasures of
art which have lain in cases for so long a time. It is very amusing
when a learned foreigner who understands English so well as Mr
Pulszky does treats the language in this way. This reminds me of
that
the new Danish chargé Baron Rosencranz told Mr Solvyns the
other day that though he could not speak French very well yet he
intended to apply himself diligently to the study of Italian, as he did not
wish to be as ignorant as an American Minister of every language but his
own. This diverted Mr Solvyns not a little, and he goodnaturedly advised
the Dane not to commit himself hastily about American Ministers, as
he would find his collegue here not only familiar with European languages
generally, but able to speak Danish as well as he could himself.
Saturday Aug 15th -
Mr Marsh went to town by the early train
and I was left to a long meditation-day by myself. My eyes would not
allow me even to look at a book for a moment, and I expected to find
the twenty four hours heavy on my hands. The daylight however p
passed quickly enough, and in the evening Signor Molino made me a
visit. He has the unmistakable characteristics of an old bachelor, and
loves money intensely beside, but he is very intelligent, a thorough pat-
-riot, and a decided democrat in the European sense -
Sunday Aug. 16th
Mr Marsh and Carrie came home to breakfast, The
dinner at the French Minister's last night went off very fairly, though
most of the chefs were out of town. The Mexican question was only
touched upon in an aside here and there informally. The French
papers say that the government at Washington shows much dissat-
-isfaction etc., but we have received no instructions from it, and of course
must not be sullen till we are told to be, though we shall certainly reserve
our congratulations till we are ordered to offer them. The Danish chargé
was of the company - a portentous man of the size of Commodore Golds-
-borough. He seems to have remembered Solvyns' hint for he
addressed Mr Marsh at once in Danish. Perut Peruzzi was
Mr Marsh's neighbor at table, and spoke as he always does with the
most sympathizing interest in our American affairs. Talking of Tuscan
Mr Marsh suggested to him that its increasing use of picturesque and
proverbial expressions must give it a certain vagueness unfavourable to
preciseness of expression, and necessarily to preciseness of thought in the
end. Peruzzi assented to this at once, and said that he felt this so
much that he preferred to use French wherever great precision was
desirable, and furthermore that he should much prefer for himself to
use French in his Parliamentary speeches, as he often found himself tempted
by the very beauty and grace of Tuscan expressions to say more
than he really meant to say. During the course of the day a
certain Miss Raymond, born in Massachusetts, but now living in Missouri,
came to the Legation to request Mr Marsh to obtain for her an audience
of the King. She had already written from Genoa on the subject, and Mr
Marsh had told her that it would be necessary for her to give him
some idea of the object of her visit as he could not otherwise take the
responsibility of so unusual a thing as asking audience for a private lady.
Miss Raymond said she did wish to see the king for a special purpose
but that she could not only not disclose that purpose, but she could
not so much as say whether it referred to public or personal matters.
Of course Mr Marsh told her that under such circumstances he could not
as Minister of the United States ask the audience, but suggested to her
that she might obtain one by entering her name on the list of private
applicants for that favour, in which case she would be received in her
turn. This the person who was with her, and whom she called "the
Baroness", advised her by no means to do, as she thought it would
not be sufficiently dignified proceeding. Miss Raymond conducted herself
like a lady, but I have no doubt she left much dissatisfied. What she
wants is difficult to divine, but there can be little doubt that she has some
absurd scheme in her head - perhaps wants the King to put a stop to
the American war, or some other equally practicable thing. Certainly the
number of sane people on this planet is very small.
Monday Aug 17th
We went to Turin this morning, stayed an hour at the
Legation and then took the rail for Novara where we had a very
comfortable night at the Hôtel d'Italie. The sun scortched us fiercely
during our drive from Pióbesi to Turin, but heavy clouds came up while
we were waiting for the train and we found the air fresh and cool while
in the railway carriage.
Tuesday 18th.
We set off early for Varallo by carriage and came
up in five hours suffering very little from the heat. We went to the
Hôtel d'Italie remembering our awful experience at the Costa last summer.
Aug. Wednesday 19th -
Leaving servants behind we set off for Mollia by
carriage before six A.M. The shower of last night was followed by a
wind from Monte Rosa this morning which made us hug our cloaks
and shawls in a desperate way. At Mollia, where we breakfasted
comfortably, we found return mules for Alagna which we appropriated -
one for baggage and one for me, Mr Marsh and Carrie walking.
In about three hours we reached Alagna, were pleasantly recognized
by the host, dispatched dinner, took tea, and went to bed tired.
Thursday Aug 20th
Mr Marsh rose at three, looked out and found it
raining heavily. I cant say I was sorry, being very tired myself and
knowing that he was far from well. We went to sleep again
and were up only in time for a nine o'clock breakfast. Carrie
had headache, and could neither read and
nor
write, but managed to
carve a very formidable list of "peaks and passes" done by her this
summer and last. Her alpenstock really looks alarming, and I am
afraid her space won't hold out for another summer. We propose that
she shall send it to Barnum on her return to America. She ob-
-jects on the ground that he will want her to make a part of the ex-
-hibition. I suggest that he perhaps would get up a mountain for her
and it might turn out a good speculation. She could put on her
mountain-costume and would I am sure draw crowds.
Friday Aug 21st
After our dull day yesterday (there were no visitors at
the hotel except natives) we made another long night of it and then
set off for the Pile Alp about six. The weather was not clear but
promised fairly. The snow fell very near us yesterday and the wind
this morning was bitterly cold for one who could not walk. We found the
ascent of the Pile Alp not difficult and occupying only an hour and a half. The
view of Monte Rosa was very fine but hardly so grand as we had
looked for. The highest point even of the Vincent Pyramid was cut off
by lower peaks and the Höchste Spitze was not seen at all, nor
could it be from this spot. Following Murray's advice and Signore
Grifetti's) whom by the way Mr Marsh went to see yesterday)
we pushed on to the crest above the Val di Bours. Our conclusion
however was very different from that of the guide-Book or of the good
priest. We did not think the traveller 'well rewarded'. On the
contrary the view seemed to us to be every way inferior to that
from the Pile except in lateral extent to the right where something is
gained but nothing in the least striking. The glacier appears so incon-
-siderable compared with the Lys that we did not think it worth while
to go further; in fact Monte Rosa from this point seemed so belittled
in comparason to what [illegible] we had seen from the Belvedere above
Macugnaga and from the Col' d'Ollen, that we were quite disposed
to pronounce the whole thing in American phraseology a humbug.
We returned to our hotel in time for an early dinner leaving two Italian
gentlemen and two ladies to pursue their adventures as far as the glacier.
These young ladies walked well certainly, and handled their alpenstocks
like adepts, but the amount of crinoline they wore was by no
means suited to such an excursion, and embarrassed their fellow-
-travellers if it did not them. The host of the Albergo del Monte Rosa
told us they were Genoese. I am glad to see that Italians are beginning to
interest themselves in their own mountains at last. The Opinione
Gazzetta di Torino
contains
a glowing account of the Countess R__. who has lately performed great
feats near Courmayeur. After we had refreshed ourselves with a
light dinner and heavy draughts of tea we found ourselves in sufficiently good
spirits to plan a hard day's work for tomorrow over the Col di Mut down into
the Val Sermenta, but on summoning guides &c. we found mules could not
be taken over and that even when at Rima we should probably find none
and without them the expense and trouble of getting me and the rest of
the luggage down to Balmuccio was something rather too formidable to
be encountered - eight or ten men for two days at fifteen francs each was
the least we could bargain for, so we thought prudence required us to return
by the Val Sesia as we came.
Saturday Aug 22nd
We were on our way down the valley soon after six.
The day was very fine and we thought the view near Riva finer
grander than anything we had seen higher up the valley. For a half
hour at least the hight highest peaks of Monte Rosa were perfectly visible,
the purest white against the softest blue. It was wonderful. We arrived
at Mollia soon after nine but found no carriages nor much encouragement
that there would be one in the course of the day. "Forse, forse." was
the nearest like anything that promised hope. We breakfasted, waited till
half past ten but no travellers appeared, and we concluded to go on to
Piode Piode an hour lower in the hope of finding some wheeled
vehicle there. Twenty rods from Mollia however, we met a carriage,
hailed the driver, who promised to take us to Varallo if we would
wait while he gave his horses a riposo. He had brought up an English
gentleman who was on his way to Alagna intending to cross the Col
d'Ollen. We made friends at once, though for some time we were
puzzled to know whether he was really a John or a Johnathan. At
last speaking of the new French Empire in Mexico he said "and those
Americans who want all that continent for themselves - they wont like
it." "No" we said at once to prevent anything unpleasant, "being Americans
ourselves we can answer for that; they will not like it." Our new ac-
-quaintance looked as if he had met with 'rayther a sudden pull-up' to
use old Mr Weller's favorite phrase, but he was very civil. It is
very seldom that I do not instantly recognize an Englishman by his
accent but I now and then meet with a man who is only of the
gentry, not the nobility, whom it is difficult to distinguish from an
American, and it seems that in this case our speech did not bewray us
to him. Soon after twelve the riposo was declared to be complete
and wishing the Englishman a buon viaggio we were soon trolling briskly
down the valley. At Varallo we found the servants well and glad to see
us - our host likewise.
Sunday Aug. 23rd
Our host, being unable to answer our enquiries as to
the how we could cross the Colma di Campello, sent for a priest who
he said was pratico of all that country. The priest came, 'a well-con-
-ditioned' man as Lord Carlisle would call him, and gave us the
information he possessed. We did not find him so pratico as we had
expected, but he was able to answer some of our questions, and better
still he sent us an old market-man who really did know the route
thoroughly. This old fellow bargained to meet us at the end of the
carriage road near Fobello with a donkey to take me and a donna to take
our night-sacks &c as far as Rimella. Soon after one we set off.
The weather did not look in any way discouraging for the morrow - in fact
it was almost too brilliantly clear.
Monday Aug. 24th -
At one P.M. we stowed ourselves into the little carriage
which was to take us a little beyond Ferrara, bid Alessan and Giacchino
goodbye with a promise to meet them if all went well, the next day at
evening at Orta, whither they were to go with our boxes. Our fine-looking
horse dashed off gaily and with seeming good-will, and we were soon off
the detestable pavements of the town, and winding up the charming valley.
After something less than half an hour the animal became somewhat restive, and
occasionally made a full stop. Cochy got out, tried to lead and coax him
and finally got him under way again. But it did not last. The brute soon
stopped again, and on being questioned the driver admitted that the horse 'did
sometimes behave in that way just here',) pointing to a large house
not very far before us. His explanation was that the former owner of the animal
lived there, that he had abused the poor beast which ever since retained the
greatest horror of the place, but that if he could once get him past the house he
would go perfectly well. He could not get him past the house, and we were
obliged to leave the carriage and betake ourselves to the shade of a large walnut-
tree while the man took back the horse to Varallo with a promise to
return speedily. It was not an unpleasant place to wait. The sun scorched
us fiercely while we were in the carriage, and we all agreed that such a
sun in New England would indicate approaching rain. Our man returned
in time, and we went on prosperously to the end of the road, where we
found the donkey &. A few minutes more and we struck off to the right
into the valley of the Rimella. At every step as we advanced the scenery
became more and more striking, The path was a very difficult one for a
donkey, and in some respects a dangerous one for a walker. Much of it was
on shelving rock, that would have been very slippery if wet, and the
chasm below was sometimes tremendous. The mountains were very grand
in proportion, and singularly picturesque and striking in outline. On the
whole we should say that this is one of the finest Alpine vallies we have
ever been in. The last half hour before approaching Rimella is very steep,
though by no means dangerous. We reached the little village before six, found
much more comfortable quarters than we expected, and were quite enraptured
with the view of the mountains seen from our windows, par-
-ticularly that towards the south. Having made our arrangements
to cross the Colma early the next morning we went to rest,
thankful for clean beds and a pleasant rooms where we had
expected only discomfort.
Tuesday Aug. 25th
Before five our little inn was astir with preparation. The
poles we had brought with us were fastened to a small arm-
chair, the straps, also our own, were adjusted to the shoulders of the
men who were to carry the chair, and we set off satisfied with every
thing but the appearance of the weather which was perfectly bright at
four o'clock, but now a little patch of fog was rising here and there.
The ascent was steep, and the grass so very wet as to make
the walking uncomfortable. We met many of the villagers at work in
the hay, some cutting the grass with sickles, other bringing home
loads of hay on their heads &c and all seemed astonished at our
procession. È una bella roba questa per le montagne, said an old
woman as she looked at me and my chair with a no very admiring
expression. When we were within about twenty minutes of the
summit we decided to turn off to some châlets on our right
and wait for an hour or two to see what the weather was likely
to be. The fog had increased so rapidly that Monte Rosa and the
whole chain of the higher Alps, were entirely covered, and even the
nearer mountains were partially lost in it. We determined if possible
to pass the night in one of these châlets and wait for another sunrise
rather than miss the sight we had come so far to witness. One of
the shepherds guided us to a châlet evidently the pride of the hamlet
Over the door was the date of its erection - 1630 - 'as old as the
settlement of Plymouth Colony,' said Mr Marsh, as we went in through
the narrow entrance. The interior was perhaps sixteen feet square.
A partition four or five feet high divided the and extending half across
the room, divided the right hand portion of the space into two small
compartments, the one nearest the door was filled up with little sticks
and dried roots such as could be found at this height, and served for
fuel. The other contained two bunks, neither of them long enough
for a grown person to lie at length, and with bedding of a very
uninviting character. On our left hand, near the door, was a raised
platform either of stone or dried earth which served as a fireplace.
Over it and suspended by a chain hung a sort of pot-hook. There was
no chimney whatever and the smoke found its way out as it could.
Around the wall of the remaining space stood two or three small
chests which also served for benches. Two or three shelves were
placed above these chests, on them stood one small copper kettle
two or three wooden bowls, one of them badly cracked and tied
together by strings. Three or four old wooden spoons, two small
churns - I think this was everything the cottage contained. The
proprietor of this establishment soon came in, & gave us a friendly
welcome. He seemed much interested to see strangers, and told
us that he too had a son who was out in the wide world.
Mr Marsh asked him where he was &c, and in answer the
old man said that the his boy first went to Rome, that he lived
there several years, afterwards went to Paris, where he was now
established as an optitian. He gave Mr Marsh the name and address
of his son, and he is determined to look up Mr Gaudenzio Calzino
when we next go to Paris. Such contrasts between the life of father
and son, though common enough with us, are extremely rare in
Europe. While we were talking with the man he made ready and
ate his breakfast, I watching the process with far more interest
even
than
I listened to his conversation. He turned a small quantity of milk
into one of the wooden bowls, then with the most ancient of wooden
spoons he dipped up some dry meal from one of the little chests, stirred
this meal into the milk and then ate the mixture without so
much as warming it or even adding a particle of salt. I thought I
had never seen poverty so poor before. But the old man looked and
talked cheerfully, and though he seemed to eat mechanically he
showed no dislike to the food he was swallowing. When he had
finished his breakfast he told us he was going down to Campello,
wished us a buon viaggio and left us in possession of his domicile.
After our host had left us we took another observation of the weather.
There was no decided improvement, and we were now forced to
decide whether we would try to spend the night here or not. We
had a good basket of provisions with us which would last through
the day - straw we could not get to lie on, but hay perhaps we
might, and by filling up the open space on the floor we might
stay till morning though we could not hope to sleep. Carrie and I were
rather disposed to try the experiment, and Mr Marsh was at first very
ready to do so, but an hour's rest had just made him sensible
that he was thoroughly drenched with perspiration, not only his under-
flannel and his flannel shirt being completely wet but even his coat,
and the cold mountain mists were now making him shiver in spite
of a heavy plad plaid. He dared not stay, and the next question was
(stick)
should we go forward or back. If we went on we must give up
the whole object of our trip as there was no sleeping place nearer
than Forno, and a hard case at that. It was finally settled that
we should return to Rimella and wait for a clear sky. Unhappy
souls! We little knew the penance we were preparing for ourselves! We
left the saddle and our basket of provisions to the care of the shepherds
and returned with downcast faces to Rimella, ordered our dinner,
which did not turn out badly and then sat down to watch the heavens.
They grew darker and darker, Heavy [illegible]
black
masses of cloud were
rolling rapidly up from the south-east, and by four o'clock the rain
began. We tried to believe that this was a fortunate circumstance,
would clear off the fog etc, and I went to the sack to bring out my
store of tea, which is always consoling in trying circumstances. We
then begged the landlord for a coffee-pot of boiling-water. We knew it
was of no use to ask for a teapot. The water was brought, but was
not boiling as a matter of course. The landlord told us he had no
tea-cups, but offered us scudelli in place of them which we accepted
thankfully. A scudello in this case meant a large bowl something
like a soup-tarrine with a cover. They were just six inches
across the top. These being provided we fastened our door, rested
our coffee-pot between two chairs, put a couple of candles under it &
in a few minutes the boiling steam rolled off out from the top
and spout in the most satisfactory way. We had some excellent
tea and went to bed with pretty good courage for the morrow
Wednesday, 26th
Thursday 27th
Friday 28th
Saturday 29th
Sunday 30th
These days may well all be summed up
together, being as like to each other as one egg is to another or
a my finger is to my finger, or as a negro is to a negro, or any
other equally appropriate comparison. We rose every morning to
see the mountains covered with thick clouds, with wreaths of mist
filling every valley and winding up their sloping sides, We sat nearly
all day at the windows, watching now the rain, now the promise
of an outbreaking sun, now a hoped-for change of wind, We went
to bed at night with the sound of pouring spouts and streaming eaves
in our ears, we rose a dozen times if there happened to be as many
lulls between showers to see if it was clearing away. We
had not brought with us the smallest apology for a book, - the
first time in our lives we ever risked ourselves in this way even
for a night - Carrie and I had not even a change of clothing,
though husband luckily was better provided. We had a needle
and some thread for sewing on a button or so, but nothing for
mending a stocking, supposing we should reach Giacchino before
there would be any want of such repairs. Carrie's red merino
walking stockings however were found to have given out on our
return from the châlets. What was to be done. She had a pair
of cotton ones with her but they would not answer for hard walking.
I was consulted professionally, examined the case, and declared the
remedy to be ravelling from the top of the stocking as much as should
be necessary to supply the deficiency in the heel. My advice was
received with applause, and nothing could be happier than the
result. Mr Marsh had an idea not less brilliant in its way. He
went to the priest to enquire if there was any place in the village
where books might be found. The poor man (rather a heavy specimen)
sighed out a negative, pitied us for having fallen even for a few days
into circumstances where his harder lot had kept him so long. Not dismayed
(stick)
by this failure he bethought himself of the schoolmaster, and
sent to ask him if he would allow him to see the books used
by the children in the school. Oh, what a rejoicing! The
master sent in a large pile including even the children's
copy-books, their chat catachisms &c, We were really most thank
ful. The schoolbooks were evidently designed for children accus-
-tomed to speak a patois (here a strange medley of German and
Italian) and the Tuscan words were carefully explained. The
chief reading-book consisted of very simple explanations of most
of the common operations of daily life in the house, the field, the
shop, the church, and would really be a capital book for a
stranger wishing to learn the language of common life. There
was also a good deal of instruction as to the proprieties and courtesies
of life, the duties of children to parents, of citizens to the State &&.
In their catachisms great stress is laid upon their sacraments
(seven) and especially on the doctrine that there is no salvation
out of the Romish Church. The ambition of our host was so
stimulated by the success of the school-master that he managed
to find somewhere either in his own house or a neighbors' a
volume of the London exposition of '51, a part of a volume of
Dante, an old treatise on medicine and two novels - one Hil-
-dreth's White Slave translated into Italian, the other Isnardo
by [illegible] Colleone. Carrie appropriated the White Slave at once
but Mr Marsh and I contented ourselves with the children's literature.
Now and then she read me an extract, and I was sorry to see
that a New Englander could be willing to send forth
hold up
such a picture
of his native land to the eyes of foreign nations. No one pretends
to claim perfection either for the institutions of New England or the
character of New Englanders or of the Northern United States
generally, but the wider a man's experience is, the more
enlightened his head, and the more loving his heart, the more
he will find in that region to admire and to be proud of,
the more he will feel that nowhere else are
are
to be found laws
so reasonable, customs so sensible, lives so unspotted, and shame
on the man who would cast shame on the mother-land that bore
him. A man may fairly admit a particular wrong in such a case
but general abuse and contempt is unpardonable,
On Sunday an express arrived from Alessan and Giacchino
who were in a state of the greatest alarm. We had sent a letter to
them by way of Varallo but it had not reached them. On Thursday
they sent a messenger as far as Campello, who returned without
any certain tidings of us, though there was a rumour there that a
party of three had gone up into the higher mountains some days
before. In the meantime Alex. had seen an account of a Russian
gentleman murdered by his guide in Switzerland, also of the murder
of the host of Mattmark by some ruffians, and he had become
half beside himself from anxiety. This was just what we feared
and it had made us more uneasy than any other circum-
-stance of our detention. Carrie wrote a few lines of explanation
to G., our host gave the messenger a good dinner, and he
departed, not however without having told us by way of consolation
that the road was in a very bad state &c that he had been
op obliged to pass through water to his thighs. This condition of things
we had anticipated and should have returned to Varallo as we
came but for the recollection of the slippery rock-shelf over which
we had passed in coming up, and from the fact that the rain
of a single day a week ago had made the road between Varallo
and Ferrara impassable for some time and of course this longer
storm would probably have produced even worse effects. We
went to bed Sunday night without any very bright hopes, though
the rain had nearly ceased for some hours.
Monday 31st
At day-break the sky was cloudless. We hurried our
few traps into our sacks, drank a cup of coffee, took leave of our quiet host and
the kindly group gathered at his door, and set our faces hopefully towards the
Colma. Alas, a few thin broken threads of mist were already barring the
eastern sky, and here and there a little tassle of fog seemed to hang from
the mountain tops, but the peasantry were all out of their work again, and
the peculiar Alpine Hail! was echoed from one hillside to another. Men
and women were in the walnut and the ash-trees breaking off and dropping
down the leaves which they told us made very tolerable food for the cattle
in winter. Others were cutting off the potatoe-tops for the same purpose. When
we thought how little the labour of a strong man would produce in this
way and how wretchedly poor must be the region where time was worth
no more, and then contrasted this extreme poverty with the wealth of
the great church of the village, its fine arc internal architecture, its
magnificent marbles, &c it did not seem possible that this half-starving
population could have raised in a thousand generations the means to build
such a structure; And yet the Dr of the village had told Mr Marsh that
those grand columns, and a splendid architrave weighing 2000 pounds had
been paid for by the contributions of this commune, and brought by the men
over these terrible roads, and up these steep hillsides, over rock and stream
on their shoulders! In reply to Mr Marsh's question how it was possible
the Dr answered: "It would be impossible for any but the priests to get all
this out of our poor peasants. But the priests, signore, the priests can draw
blood from a stone." On our way this morning we again observed what
we had noticed the other day - the great number of little wooden crosses placed
in little arches of masonry built against the hillsides. There must have been
between one and two hundred. Mr Marsh counted 60 in one arch. The initials
and date of the death of the individual whose memory they were intended to
pres preserve were generally cut on the crosses. The oldest date we noticed
was 1830, and our guides told us that these were in memory of persons who
had lost their lives in some way by accident on the mountains during the
last thirty years. Some had perished from avalanches; others crushed by falling
rocks; some had been lost in the winter-snows; others fallen from great
heights either when following their herds, cutting grass, or pursuing game.
Our landlord at Rimella had previously told us that the snow last winter
fell and lay on the earth for a long time to the depth of ten feet.
The view before us, below us, and behind us was wonderfully fine, but the
mist was rising more and more heavily, and sometime before we reached the
chalet of Tuesday's experience it was evident Monte Rosa did not mean to show
herself. The old man who carried our sacks struck off for the châlets to
pick up what we had left there with authority to impress a shepherd if he could
to help him take his load to the top of the Colma. We pursued our way
over very steep pasture-ground, now thoroughly soaked with the late rain, &
I could see that the walkers were sometimes in the water nearly to their
ankles. When fairly at the top we all drew together under the shelter of a
rock and sat down. The view towards Rimella was of the finest char-
-acter, but down the opposite slope it looked more dreary and desolate. But
nothing of all that we had especially desired to see was visible. Monte Rosa
and her satellites were wrapped in the thickest clouds. "Pazienza," we
cried, "we'll come here another year, if we live." Our guides then pointed
out a summit about a thousand or perhaps 1500 feet above us (we
were already at at [sic] height equal to that of Mount Washington) where they
said the prospect was far finer than from the Colma. This peak is called
the Capio - and they said if we would come next July, sleep in a
châlet and let them take us to the summit of the Capio before sunrise
we should see as grand a sight as we had ever witnessed in the
Alps. There was another lofty summit, more to our right as we looked
down towards Rimella which Mr Marsh thought must command a wider
view even than the Capio. The guides admitted this but said it was
more difficult of ascent. This was the Striengo. Having given the men
time to dispose of the chicken, the bread and the wine with which we had
furnished them we began to descend, expecting every moment however that
the great black clouds now hanging over us, would pour down a deluge
on our heads. The character of the path had been sufficiently impressed
upon us to leave no room for surprise when we found it in some
places almost perpendicular. But for the straps fastened to the back of
my chair which I brought around my shoulders and held with my hands,
and for the thick roll of shawls which had been placed on the edge of
the chair under my knees I could never have held myself in it during
a large part of the way down to Campello. Still it was not so bad as we
had expected. The floods had had time to abate. There was no necessity
to wade so deep as when Alessan's messenger came up, and those por-
-tions of the path that had been absolutely washed away were already patched
up so that we could get over. In fact our progress was far more rapid
than we had ventured to hope for. We reached Campello in an
hour and a half and were at Forno not long after eleven. Here we
hoped to find mules, but none were to be had. Our guides were evidently
much pleased at this, as it would give them an opportunity to carry me
all the way to Omegna and so secure another day's pay. After a
dinner and a two hours rest at Forno, (not a very inviting place) our
party set out again. The valley of the Strona is exceedingly beautiful
not so wild as many others but now and then very grand, and its
little bridge and village are distributed as if by the hand of the most
skillful of artists. The vegetation too is charming. Creeping vines of every
discription, the dark green ivy, many trailing plants covered with flowers,
others with clusters of red or black berries, were everywhere hanging from
the rocks, draping the bridges, climbing the trees. We reached Omegna
about six P.M. - Mr Marsh and Carrie having walked the whole day - a
distance of at least twenty miles, not to speak of the stiffness of the
climb, and of the steepness of a considerable portion of the descent. On
arriving at Omegna we found
that
the good woman who had met us on
the way near Forno and told us that we "were expected in Omegna'
was not in the least mistaken. It seemed as if the whole village were
likely to gather in the street before the hotel. One told us there had
been a great many there to enquire for us, another said he had waited
ever so many nights with his boat to take us down to Orta - in
short there was no end to their questions and congratulations, and
we were thankful enough when we found ourselves in the carriage
on our way to Orta, rickety as was the old vehicle, and restive
as wh was the beast which drew it, and drunk as was the
driver who conducted it. By eight o'clock we arrived in Orta
without shipwreck. Alex. was so much overcome that his voice was scarcely
intelligible. Giacchino was more composed, but it was plain they had
both suffered very much from their anxiety. Some hot tea and a good
bath soon refreshed us wonderfully, and beds were never more welcome.
Tuesday 1st September.
I was thankful to find the two pedestrians
in good case this morning - no blisters - no great lassitude. Immediately
after breakfast we went over to the island of San Giulio., saw some very
interesting things in the Church, especially the old stone pulpit, and a bas
-relief of San Giulio himself - (the St Patrick of Orta,) pronouncing
the decree of banishment against the serpents of the island. Not
being able to find a boatman courageous enough to take him to ths
this nest of vipers the good Saint spread his cloak on the water and
in this way sailed over in safety. This incident is also represented.
Returning to our hotel we found two English couples, whom we had left
there, debating what to do next. Monte Rosa was still hidden by clouds
and it seemed idle to go in that direction. Mr Marsh took out his
fine maps to show certain points to one of the gentlemen, the other
having in the meantime settled himself down quietly over his Times.
The talk over the map went on for some minutes, the gentleman with the
newspaper paying no attention to it. Mr Marsh's interlocutor at last spoke
of the beauty of the maps: - "They must be very dear, I suppose!" "Oh no"
said my husband, "I gave but two francs apiece for them." The gentleman
of the newspaper started at the words 'only two francs' as if he had
received an electric shot, and the livliest interest shone out in every
feature. I could scarcely keep my countenance, and it was the more dif-
-ficult because I thought Mr Marsh was also disposed to laugh. As soon
as we were alone I asked him if he noticed the circumstance. "Cer-
-tainly I did; you can't say franc before an Englishman without making
him start." At one we left in a carriage for Arona. A heavy
shower soon came on and we had rather a wet time till we reached
the railway station. We had in the same compartment with us in the
train a beautiful Milanese lady who made herself most agreeable. I was
quite fascinated by her and sorry to part with her at Novara where we had
to wait two hours for the express to Turin. We dined here, fortunately
and were again on our way at half past seven, with the expectation
of reaching the capital a quarter before eleven. But alas for human expec
-tation, Our engine failed, and it was two in the morning when the long
waited-for substitute took us safely up to the Turin station. On our
way to the Hôtel d'Europe one of the horses spu stumbled so badly as [illegible]
nearly to occasion a catastrophe, and we were thankful enough when
we found ourselves safely in the Hôtel d'Europe in the magnificent apart-
ment on the first floor which fronts on the Piazza Madama, and the
Via
Wednesday Sept. 2nd.
Our post contained no bad news, and we breakfasted
in peace at ten, after which Mr Marsh went to the Legation, Carrie
and I finished off letters, the servants went to see Madame Ghirardi
about the house, Gaetano was sent to Pióbesi with provisions
for dinner and directions to send carriages to the station for us
at five. At half past four we paid a very loud bill for our apartment
tea, and breakfast, and drove to the station. Here we met Mr Carutti,
a very pleasant surprise. A lively old gentleman, evidently a man of
rank and position entertained us in the most agreeable way as far
as Candiolo where we got out in a pouring rain. Gaetano was there
and we were soon whirling off towards the old Castle, the horses
smoking, the mud flying and the rain pouring in streams from
our umbrellas down our backs. We found the gardener's wife at the
station of Candiolo returning from Cavoretto, and Mr Marsh took her
with the little Pinotto into the carriage he would otherwise have had
to himself, and as he drove on before us it was really melancholy
to see the poor woman's gay ribbons wilt under the storm. We met
with a
the hearty welcome at the door from Carlo, Susanne, Antonia &c
and were soon sitting at our own dinner-table everything looking just
as when we left.
Thursday 3rd
Raining again this morning - fine weather
for bringing up lagging work, looking over American papers
&c. Before night we were so thoroughly in the track again that
the last fortnight seemed quite like a dream. In the evening
the Baroness came in, bringing the avvocato Fava, an intelli-
-gent liberal man. The Baroness does not look well and complains
of almost constant fever. She tells me that it is really the delicate
little Countess Rignon, whom I fancied so much, that has done the
great feats in the way of mountain climbing which have been trumpeted
in the papers as the doings of the Countess R__. I am delighted that
the Turinese are waking up to their mountains. The Baroness herself greatly
regrets that she cannot pass more time among them, I forgot to show her
C__'s stick on which she has carved her exploits. By the way, her
head is so full of stick that today when I expressed my surprise on
learning from some American paper that Fanny Fern who was Mrs
Farnsworth when we left was now Mr[s] Parton, C__ said: "Why the
woman will have to get her a stick to cut her husbands' names
on!"
Friday 4th
After the morning writing Mr Marsh read to me from
Du Pra's Parliamento Italiano, and from Buckle, The latter becomes
more interesting as the proportion of his facts increases and that of his own
speculations diminishes. I wish I could communicate to Ausonio Franchi
the extracts he gives from Hooker & Chillingworth as to the authority on
which Protestants rest their faith. When Mr Marsh was hoarse I
betook myself to Carrie who read German to me for an hour when
dinner was announced. After this, we were made painfully sensible
that the long evenings are rapidly approaching. By half past six
it was quite too dark to do anything. When tea was over Carrie read
some nice things from the Revue des Deux Mondes, but I dread this
evening work on account of her eyes.
Saturday Sept 5th
We took a seven o'clock breakfast this morning in
order to allow Mr Marsh to go to Turin. For several days the
display of fruit on our table has been worthy some horticultural show.
This morning we measured a peach which proved to be nearly eleven
inches in circumference, and that too, measuring it not in its oblong
direction. Its quality we did not test, but one measured yesterday at dinner
ten inches in circumference was found to be excellent. Mr Marsh brought
no news of special interest from Turin. The American news generally favourable
but not important. The Italie contains a sharp article on France because
she does not incline to give up the brigands. It seems impossible that the
Emperour can be base enough to refuse to surrender them. Montalambert's
speech on liberty of conscience produces some stir, but the Armonia, though it
speaks of the discourse, makes no allusion to the subject. - . Mr Clay
and Mr Artoni came out at six, and brought the glad news of the surrender of
Fort Sumter. We had not looked for it so soon, and our joy was the greater.
We celebrated late in the evening, to the great delight of Gaetano, who, for
certain reasons of his own, prays for a great Federal victory every week.
Sunday Sept 6th
The temperature and atmosphere today were like those of
one of our softest Indian summer days. The gentlemen seemed to enjoy the
garden not a little. They talked, read, lounged &c while Mr Marsh and I
stayed in-doors and read the concluding chapters of Christiana's pilgrimage.
The evening paper brought us later news - the request of the French and
English consuls in Charleston that the further bombardment of the city be susp
-pended till they can get off with their property, and that of the Charleston people
themselves that they may send off women, children &c. It would seem that
natives and foreigners alike had already had warning enough. The Confederacy
is said to be screaming to the Emperour of the French for help, and Jeff. Davis
sends out a circular to show that they have quite as much the advantage
in the contest as has the U.S. Government. But the richest item is the
report in the Toronto Gazette (the same that a few days before declared we
were preparing to send a hundred thousand men to divide the two Canadas)
that "a conspiracy has been discovered by which it appears that the U.S. Gov.
is on the eve of attacking Canada!" A later telegram say this rumour
lacks confirmation! It is really no small compensation for all the abuse the
English Press has heaped upon us during the last two years and a half to see
what a terrible bugbear we are becoming to them as the prospects for the res-
-toration of the Union brighten. These remours will provoke a shout of
laughter and derision throughout our whole country.
Monday Sept 7th
An article in the American Times received this morning
speaking of France and England and our relations with them comes to some very
sage conclusions. After speaking of England, her embarrasments, and the absolute
necessity of peace as her only safety, the editor says of France - that she is dying of
a mortal and incurable disease - that Russia is destined to remodel Europe
and that young America and this young giant have already stretched out their
hands to each other. It concludes with: "Let the heathen rage!" Mr Marsh
does not fully sympathize with the writer in his sanguine hopes of the
beneficial influence of Russia on modern civilization, but he does believe that
both England and France are 'post meridian' and that their course toward
us during this rebellion will serve to accelerate rapidly the day of their doom.
The Italian papers contain little of interest today except an account of the funeral
of La Farina who died last Saturday from Typhoid. We have seen no
inconsiderable number of the great men of Italy pass away since we came here.
The Armonia, as might be expected from the nature of the thing, take this
occasion to launch an anathema against the memory of the great man who
has just been called away.
Tuesday 8th
The telegram today is that Chattanooga is in possession of
Rosencranz [Rosecrans], and consequently all Eastern Tennessee cleared of rebels. This
virtually gives us another state. The Confederates are calling loudly on France
for help, but the most important item perhaps is that Davis has, with the consent
of the governours, directed the arming of 500000 negroes to fight for the Confeder-
-acy under a promise that they are all to have their freedom with a bounty of 50
acres of land when the independence of the South shall have been achieved -
"God moves in a mysterious way. His wonders to perform." It seems as if He
in His wisdom had determined to make the South itself the instrument of the
deliverance of the negro. When the North, faithless to the high part she should
have performed, yields weakly to the most unreasonable demands of the South
for the sake of peace, He suffers the South to go on in its career of madness until
at last she forces the reluctant North into self-defence. But even yet the free States
are not ready to do their duty, and the government at Washington is ever
far behind the people. Then He gives victories to the South, and more victories, until
the government and the people of the United States find there is no alternative but to
make war on Slavery as well as on the Slave States. Then the tide turns in our
favour, - success rapidly follows success, until there is serious talk of an approaching
reconstruction of the old Union - And now it is apparent that there are not
wanting men in the North as anxious to say save what remains of slavery as
are the men at the South, and while we stand half aghast with fear
lest their infernal system should in some way or other have its wretched life
prolonged, lo, the arch-rebel himself steps forward and cuts the knot. He pro-
claims freedom to at least every able-bodied negro that can be found in the States
which still profess allegiance to him; and after this will our government
when the rebels are conquered, put these men or their families back into
bonds? - those bonds from which their masters themselves have released
them? I trow not, Aand if the war goes on, even if France comes int
in to the aid of the traitors, the negro at least has had his chains broken,
for which God be praised.
Wednesday Sept. 9th
Alex returned from Turin at one o'clock having been
sent there to conclude the arrangement with the Ghirardi for the rent
of the rooms on the pian terreno of the Casa d'Angennes to be used for the
Legation. Madame, however, though her promise had been perfectly distinct,
declared that on the whole she wouldn't rent them at all - that they
were worth much more than the 3000 francs for which she had offered
them (3000 francs for three low rooms, one with small windows facing
the Via d'Angennes, the other two only looking out on the court!) and
that she would not now give them up to any one till the first of March.
Pazienza! say the Italians at every breath, and there is need enough
of it when dealing with such a madwoman as this. This evening
the Morning Post says that the English government have concluded
to stop Mr. Laird's piratical proceedings! The taking of Charleston
has proved with them a weightier argument than justice, honour, or
even the interests of their own manufacturing classes. If Englishmen in
power had not shown themselves for centuries beneath all sense of
shame in their intercourse with foreign nations they might be supposed
to blush on this occasion. The Diritto says that the Emperour of
the French has signed the order for giving up the brigands to the Italian
government. I trust this is so.
Thursday Sept. 10th -
The Avocato Molino passed the evening with us, which was rather
a relief, as, when we have our days entirely without interruption, we are tired
of reading and writing by dinner-time. He is by no means a siher sigher after
the good old times, but rejoices in every forward step that is taken.
Friday 11th
Our occupations were as usual with the exception of certain pre-
-parations for another mountain excursion. Mr Marsh spent some time with
the carpenter in trying to realize a chaise-à-porteurs which he had
idead some days ago, and Carrie and I had our little odds and ends to look
out for. For the first time for many weeks the mountains are perfectly clear all
day. If these trips were not so expensive they would be even more tempt-
-ing than they are. I hinted as much to Mr Marsh the other day, and he
hushed me up by saying: "Don't you know you shouldn't talk about want
of means except in the most secret recesses of our chamber! In Europe
It is no disgrace to be mean, but it is unpardonable to be poor" - One
would really think that this last was the truest of truths to judge from what
we see and hear of the doings of the rich in their intercourse with their
inferiors. Among the developments which have followed the animated
discussions about the retirement of Sir James Hudson, is the charge by the
French, said also to be supported by the declarations of the Italian Ministry
and the subsequent coldness of our King himself towards Sir James,
that he interfered with the movements of Garibaldi last autumn in
such a way as to bring about the collision between the great patriot
and his government, the object of the British Minister being to turn
the threatened storm from Austria, and produce a rupture between
Italy and France. Mr Sartiges openly declares that this was the
case, and says there are abundant proofs of it which History will be
able to make use of. I can believe anything of the intrigues of the
British government against France or any other nation which it
believes its own interest [illegible] requires should be weakened, but I
find it hard to suppose that such a man as Sir James Hudson
would consent to serve as an instrument for the overthrow of this
fair kingdom he is thought to have done so much to elevate. Poor
Garibaldi were he not one of God's own inspired prophets of liberty,
the treacherous snares that have been spread for him on all sides
and by almost every hand, would have destroyed his faith long
before this, but, like Jeanne d'Arc, neither the neglect of those he
has best served nor the rage of his enemies, nor the treachery of those
who creep into his confidence for the very purpose of accomplishing
his ruin - none of these things move him.
Saturday 12th Sept.
We were by ourselves all day - that is C. and I, Mr Marsh
not returning from Turin till six. In the evening the Baronne
Gautiers and the Avvocato Fava came to us. The former was very
eager to know what we thought and believed about Davis' Proclamation
calling on the Negroes and promising them their freedom. We had a hearty
laugh over the club-room gossip of Turin, which is that the Emperor of France
has called on the Italian government for a contingent of 100000 men to
carry on the war against the government of the United States. Mr Marsh
promised the Baroness letters for her son which should secure him
the best of treatment when prisoner of war. The prospects of the
new King of Greece and of the Archduke Maximillian were then
considered and Mr Marsh settled the question as to whose were the most en-
-viable in favour of the Prince of Denmark on the ground that
he was much nearer his friends in case of the catastrophe which would
inevitably befal them both. The two gentlemen went into the
Library after dinner tea and Fava, who speaks French badly and
prefers Italian when he can use it, told Mr Marsh that though Piedmontese
was the language of his childhood he had always spoken Tuscan and
perfectly understood everything that was said in that language, yet he
himself was not understood by the common people of Ancona. Their
own language he says is very pure and he has not the slightest
difficulty in comprehending every word they address to him, while
on the other hand his Piedmontese accent so much embarrasses
them that they do not know what he is saying. The educated
classes who have been more accustomed to hear varieties of pro-
-nunciation understand him perfectly but say at once - "Oh, you are a
Piedmontese!" He instanced the word studio. "Now," said he, "I
know very well how this word should be pronounced, but in rapid
speaking I give the u a semi-French sound, and the o and
indistinct vowel sound, and except by an educated inhabitant of
Ancona I am not understood. Fava is Procureur du Roi at
Ancona, an officer whose duty it is to attend to the legal rights of
such persons as cannot afford to pay lawyers, he receiving his
salary from the government.
Sunday Sept 13th
Gaetano's wife and little girl came out to spend the
day. The mamma is plain, but not less briosa than her husband,
and the daughter does her parents no discredit. The bells were ringing
for the festa while I was talking with the mother, and she broke
out into a lamentation over these endless feste which she declared
were not per devozione but to cavar i danari. "If I had the power"
said she "there should not be more than four in the year, for they
ruin poor people and they cause so many accidents and so much vice".
I was much amused at this expression "if I had the power". In itself
it proves the astonishing change that is going on in the minds of
this people. The little girl recited a long poem, the burthen of which
was bella, bella Italia - giardino della Natura - very pretty and
very patriotic. The child with her heavy black hair, her very
dark complexion, keen black eyes and irregular features, reminded
me forcibly of George Sand's Petite Fadette. This morning
we finished Selden's Table Talk, and though there is much in it
that is very pithy and very terse and the book is both instructive and
amusing, yet I confess I should never have thought of ranking it
where Coled Coleridge does. One of his anecdotes amused me par-
-ticularly. When
Sir Robert
Cotton was examining what he believed to be a shoe
that had belonged to Noah or Nebuchadnezzar or some such old
worthy, and wondering at its most extraordinary shape, my lady
Cotton said to him quietly - "Are you sure it is a shoe"?
Speaking of the Puritans Selden says "he declares he would be
judged by the word of God: if he would speak clearly he means him-
-self, but he's ashamed to say so, and he would have me believe
him before a whole church that has read the Word of God as well as
he." No man however was a stouter champion for private judgement
than Selden. In the evening we read an interesting article of
Marc Monnier's on the late discoveries in Pompeii. Little Carolina
came in with her mother to say goodnight, and repeated another poem
in which the virgine benedetta
di Rimini, (the winking Madonna)
was invoked to open the eyes of her
faithful Italian children and convince them that the sciochezze
del papa e dei cardinali were not la vera chiesa di Dio.
What a muddle there must be in the heads of the people in this
transition state! In answer to questions about reading the child
said she dearly loved story books and little poems, everything in
fact but libri di devozione which tired her dreadfully and put
her to sleep! A seven-year-old child this!
Monday 14th -
A note came in from Lucy Tottenham this morning to
tell us of the death of her brother in India. An hour later Gaetano brought
another from Mrs T. herself. This is the first child she has ever lost out
of her ten, and it will be an overwhelming blow to her and to them
all. They seem a most affectionate family, and I feel very sincerely for them.
The Post brought no letters from America, and the papers contained
nothing we had not already learned through the Daily News. Opinions
vary so much from day to day on the great political questions that they are
hardly worth recording, but the general belief today is that the Archduke
Maximilian will not accept the Mexican throne, and that the
French Emperour will not meddle further in our affairs. Quien sabe?
A spirited little tit for tat is now going on between the papal government
and the Italian one. The authorities of Naples, having detected the Pope's
consul there in a treasonable correspondence, sent him home. There-
-upon the Pope sent out of Rome the consul of Victor Emmanuel.
Upon this the Italian government
has
ordered every Papal consul through-
-out the kingdom to take himself off, and report to the Holy Father
that his services were no longer required. The National Committee,
which has long been carrying on its operations in the very heart of Rome,
defying all the skill of the police to detect who are its members or
where it assembles, having lately found that some of its own friends
acting in behalf of the so-called Party of Action were issuing publications
to the detriment of the Good Cause, seized the other day their printing press
and all their papers, and put a stop to further operations, Aand even
after an event calculated to excite so much stir and gossip, the Roman
government is unable to find out anything whatever about the tran-
-saction. This would seem incredible to one unfamiliar with the aston-
-ishing art, cunning, and secrecy which tyranny begets.
I forgot to mention in its proper place, last Saturday, of an offer made
to Mr Marsh by a wealthy Hungarian officer who said he would take
to America for the service of our government three hundred veteran
Hungarians armed and equipped fully, and would pay their expenses
over provided he could be sure that they would be received into the
service and that at the end of the war he should be repaid simply the
expense of their passage. Mr Marsh was obliged to say that he had no
authority whatever to commit the government to anything of the kind,
and that he had written to the Secretary of State so often asking instruc-
-tions with regard to similar offers, none of which had ever been accepted,
that he was unwilling to press the government further. It grieves
me to think how many experienced soldiers, hardened to bear every
kind of privation and fatique, are here longing to help fight our battles,
which our young men, delicately brought up and with constitutions half formed
must go and lay down their lives without being able to do anything like
so effectual service as these fellows might, and be none the worse for it.
A cannon-shot to be sure would be fatal alike to the one and the other,
but not so the hardships of a long and desperate campaign. I have no doubt
that the presence of large bodies of foreigners, foreign officers &c would create
some embarrassments, but I think if Mr Seward and others in power would
condescend to accept a few Hungarians and Italians in the place of the
hoads of hoards of Irish they encourage our country would be none
the worse for it. In the evening we began one of a series of articles in
the Revue des Deux Mondes on the Diplomatic life of Lord Malmesbury em-
-bracing a period of thirty five years, commencing towards the close of th
the reign of Frederic the Great. He served at different courts and seems to have
been a man of great ability as a negociator, to have had remarkable social
qualities which gave him unusual influence at the various courts to which he was
accredited, as well as a man of admirable private character. Yet it is astonishing
that a man like him could reproach the French government with
political intrigues, brand Frenchmen with every hard name for their
insincerity &c, and yet at the very same time be proposing to his own
government to make an effort to bribe Catherine's Minister Potemkin,
and suggesting that it might be well to excite Catherine's jealousy of
Sweden and Prussia by calling her attention to some visits etc
which had lately taken place between the Royal Houses of those two
Countries. The price of Potemkin, he admits, would be high, perhaps
not less than $4000000; but thinks the money would be well spent!
As to the insinuations about Prussia and Sweden he does not pre-
-tend to believe that there is the least shadow of foundation for
them in truth, only he proposes to take advantage of certain cir-
-cumstances to give a colour to them, and in fact says that he
has already begun the good work on his own and responsibility! If such
things are done by an English Diplomat of rare private virtues it se
would seem to me that English Diplomacy has little right to
reproach French Diplomacy with its colour.
Tuesday, Sept. 15th
After Mr Marsh's return from Turin we read Buckle
again, and re-read a part of Carlyle's Diamond Necklace, which we have
neither of l us looked at for twenty years. In spite of all my dislike
of much that this great man has written lately; in spite of my contempt for
his unworthy and miserable prejudices, I never take up his earlier wri-
-tings without the liveliest admiration, and a feeling of real gratitude to
him for the intellectual stimulus they afforded me at the age of twenty.
Just before we left the dinner-table a carriage was announced, and our
visitors proved to be the Healeys of Boston, friends of our good friend
Mrs John Paine. We were very glad to see them, had a nice
talk of friends and interests at home, and parted like old acquaintances.
We were glad to learn from them that Mrs Cleaveland with her family
is in Europe again.
Wednesday Sept 16th
After dinner Carrie went, with Giacchino, to pay the
Baroness a visit and to tell her that we expected to leave on Friday
for another week in the mountains. Our post brought us nothing new
of interest, and it has been every way a day without adventures.
Thursday Sept 17th.
The carpenter brought home the new chaise-à-
-porteurs this morning and we set to work at once to mount it.
There was carpeting to be prepared for the seat, and back, and foot-
-board, - webbing to be arranged for the straps, and in fact, after a
very hard day's work we were called to dinner before the thing was
fairly in shape. Mr Marsh had worked steadily with his tools in
remedying some of the carpenter's blunders, and on the whole we were
glad to find that we might as well set off at three P.M. tomorrow
as at 6 A.M, which was our first intention. The Baroness came in
after tea to wish us buon viaggio. She was quite excited about Rénan's
book, and evidently wishes it might be seized and burned, and the
writer properly admonished at the same time, but she admits that this
sort of practice has not proved very successful even in the good old
days, and that it is probably too late in the age of this little planet to
venture on any further experiments of that kind. I told her that I
was sure she was quite right. The time had come when we must
boldly look all such questions in the face, that they were never
more to be even temporarily stifled, that for myself I had no fear
as to the final triumph of Christianity, no matter to what tests it
might be subjected, but that it must be the business of all those who
loved it calmly to investigate all the objections that had been, and should
be in our day raised against it. She sighed and said: 'Yes, this is all
true, and one has need to be more than an apostle to sustain
one's self against those who assail the Faith.' She then passed on
to speak of a scandalous book which has lately appeared in Turin
under the title of Femme galante, the object of the author being
to discredit royalty both here and in France by revelations of such a
character as the title of the book would suggest. She stated
told
several
anecdotes, and more insinuations contained in the work (I don't
know whether a volume or a pamphlet merely) altogether too
scandalous for one to think of, much less to write about, but when
she told me that she had not seen the publication herself, but that
an officer, a friend of hers from Turin, had just been telling her
about it, my first thought was: 'Thank God I was born in a country
where no young officer would venture to offend a lady whom he
respected, by entertaining her with matter like this.' I could hardly
imagine the refined and graceful woman before me listening to such
communications from such a source. We returned once more to the sub-
-ject of the press, and I said that feared far more the effect of such
publications as this she was just speaking of than any thing that might
be written in the vein of Rénan's book. Works like the last might shake
the faith of some, but they would arouse thought, and, consequently, give
fresh intellectual vigour and life, and so at least something would be
gained, while from the other there could be nothing but unmixed
evil. She evidently was surprised that I thought anything could
be so bad as heresy, and we dropped the discussion.
Friday Sept 18th
Instead of a journey today I find myself
obliged to keep my bed, and after talking the subject over quietly
we have decided to give up any further mountain expeditions for
this year, it being already so late and no probability of my being able
to go for some days. Towards evening when I felt more like myself
again Mr Marsh read to me a very interesting notice of the recent
discoveries in chemistry by the famous Pasteur. His experiments
seem absolutely conclusive on the subject te of equivocal generation
and it is hardly probable that it will ever again find really intelligent
supporters. His revelations also with regard
to
the process of fermentation are
most curious. It sometimes really seems as if we were getting one step
nearer to Natures' most precious secrets, and it is not strange that
scientific men sometimes feel as if they had almost laid their hand
upon the very principle of life.
Saturday 19th.
Again we had to bear a disappointment from the
post. - no letters from brother Charles from whom we have been hoping
to hear every day for the last three months. We cannot explain this silence
on his part, and that of all Mr Marsh's family friends, and it is
impossible not to say to ourselves: if he were not ill he would
certainly write, if he were ill, some we one else would. Our own
disappointment however was soon forgotten in the terrible news brought
this evening to the gardener's wife - her young brother of twenty three
has just been shot
at Cavoretto,
mortally wounded, by a Frenchman. The poor
fellow was returning from his day's work driving his bullocks before
him - our little Maurizio and another boy following close by him, As
he passed the house of the Frenchman the latter fired upon him with
a double-barreled gun, and then a revolver. The messenger who
came for the sister knew nothing more. The poor woman set
off at once with her baby for the station, but she had hardly been
gone ten minutes before the gardener's anxiety about her overcame all
the obstacles in the way of going himself, and he followed her.
Sunday 20th
Before breakfast this morning we learned that the
wounded young man died before his sister arrived. The parents and
indeed the whole family are quite wild with grief. The assassin has
been caught by a brother of our gardener who pursued him as far as
Moncalieri where he caught him and held him till one of the gend'arm
gendarmeria came up. All we can learn still is that this French-
-man is a man possessing quite a fortune, that his wife went to
Turin Friday and received the dividends on 70000 francs in shares
owned by her husband in the Vittorio Emanuele railroad, that she
refused to give up the money to him yesterday when he demanded it
as she knew he was going off on a wild frolic, and would probably
waste it all; that he became furious at this refusal, and threatened
to shoot her, that she made her escape from the house and that
he then shot this young man merely because he was the first
object that came within his reach. Much of this story seems improba-
-ble, but nothing more will transpire I suppose till the trial. One
thing is certain the murderer did not mean to fail as he fired
three or four times at least, and probably any one of the wounds
would have been mortal. For the sake of the family I greatly rejoice
that his life was spared long enough to permit the presence of a priest.
This is another instance of the blindness of all our efforts to save those
we love from hardship and danger. Three months ago this young
man was drafted as a conscript, and his parents and other friends
gathered up all the little earning they had saved for many
years and paid the government 3,000 francs for his release.
Mr Artoni came out last evening, and this morning after
breakfast I was strong enough to join the circle in the drawing-room
There was no telegram last night, and we had only Italian matters
to talk over. Mr A. is very sanguine as to the future of Italy,
but he cannot help admitting that there is every now and then
some striking proof that the aristocracy of Turin has not kept
up with the great forward movement. Since the shocking developments
with regard to the Ignorantelli an effort has been made to get up
a good school for the higher classes, or rather for such as can afford
to pay well, (there are already very good
public
common schools not under
the control of the priests) and it was thought necessary to raise
about 50000 francs ($10,000) for the proper buildings &c. The first
application was made to the king, who cheerfully gave them [illegible]
15000 francs, or nearly one third of the whole sum. Who could
believe that after this the remaining 35000 francs could not be
raised in the whole capital! Is it the influence of the priests, or is
it mere love of money? But while such things are happening
in Turin a man dies in a provincial town
Pavia,
refusing to
receive the usual absolution and sacraments at the hands of the
priest. The latter refuseing burial after death, and upon this
the whole population of the town gathers together and the body
is carried by them to the grave with a fine band of music playing
solemn airs and with every other token of respect. It may well be
said that Italy is in a transition state. Gaetano brought
us stirring news in form of a despatch. A "Fort Moltrie [Moultrie]," as Carrie
gaily translates it, "has jumped into the air!" (è saltata in aria)
and the Federal cannon hold Charleston completely in their powed
power. Now Heaven be praised, and may they not leave, for the
sake of common justice, and as a decent example to future generations,
one stone upon another in that petty little town which has been the
fomentor of all these horrors. When I say that in addition to this news
we are assured that Chattanooga also has fallen it will be understood
that Gaetano was consoled by the remnants of a large punch-bowl.
We certainly have no more ardent sympathizer in Federal victories
than this faithful footman of ours. Last Sunday night when told
that he might go home with his wife and child and that he need
not return till next morning, he enquired of Giacchino whether
she were quite sure that there were no new victories, and that
there might not be a bowl of Punch! [Illegible] I had home-letters more
than usually satisfactory, by Mr Marsh had nothing from brother
Charles.
Monday Sept 21st -
Nothing new by mail. We began finishing off several
little odd jobs which are easier done in the country than in town, doing
a little reading and writing besides. After a month during which my
eyes have been almost entirely useless to me for anything beyond
merely looking at nature and the household objects about me, they
promise a little better today, and allowed me to look at a book for
five minutes with impunity. Giacchino brought home from
Turin sheets, blankets, covers &c for two new Hospital-beds, our
parting gift to the Piobesans as a community, but there will be
some large private necessities yet to look after. The establishment
at which G. got the woolen blankets complained bitterly of the
scarcity of cotton, and said they would no longer offer to the poor
cheap, soft, cotton blankets formerly so common. But one can't help
feeling the truth of the homely old proverb: 'It is an ill wind &c
for while we hear of the terrible injury our rebellion has been
to Italian manufactories we learn at the same time that the
increased price of cotton has tempted Sicilian land-holders to
try to cultivate it on that beautiful Island, and that already
their success is so great that there are not arms enough, as
they express it, to perform the necessary labour [Image] Another
curious instance of the effect of our civil war on individuals the
humblest and apparently the most removed from it is stated by
Monnier who says that the excavations at Pompeii are now going on
with redoubled activity as the industrious young girls who have
hitherto worked in the cotton mills have now offered themselves
to carry off the rubbish thrown out by the spades of the diggers,
and in this way a great deal of work is done, besides affording
the spectator the pleasure of enjoying a very picturesque scene.
We were much amused by a notice in the Revue des Deux
Mondes of the new title of Duke just conferred on Persigny. The
writer after very many droll remarks says something to this effect: -
that in former times it was the custom to add to a title the name of some
city or province which made it sound grandly - such as Duc de Gênes,
&c&c which had not been done in the present case. Also, that it was
a Spanish custom in some instances to add to the title a word, or words,
which hinted at the character of the individual or the services performed,
as for instance, Duc de la paix, Duc du traité, &c and suggests
that Monsieur Persigny might 'have been called Duc du devouement, or
Duc des élections, which would have sounded very well! This had
not been done however and his friends must be contented to know him
simply as Le Duc de Persigny -
Tuesday 22nd.
Another day has flashed by us leaving no results except
in the shape of certain trifles begun long ago and finished at last -
perhaps neither worth the beginning nor the finishing. Husband brought
nothing of especial interest from Turin - The Saturday Review a little
less better than when we were apparently in greater trouble, - the
Athenæum with its less open ill-will, and the Daily News frank,
fair, and manly. The Opinione tells the story of the failure of the
subscription for the school with evident mortification, but attributes
it to the indifference of those who undertook to raise it, or perhaps
rather to the absence of everybody in villaggiatura. It also speaks of
still another discovery of the infamous doings of the Ignorantelli in a
neighboring town the name of which has escaped me. In the
evening we went on with Lord Malmesbury, and read beside a
very funny article on Home, or Hume, and his spiritism. It is
really amazing to see how fearlessly this Revue attacks the Emperor
and all his works - not by name certainly, but in the most unmis-
-takable manner. It is curious too, to contrast this French periodical
with the English Saturday Review. The former is candid, earnest
and generous, contains articles on the most abstruse subjects written
with a profoundness of research that excites the highest admiration, and
everywhere manifests a thoroughly liberal and progressive spirit. The
latter is unfair, sneering, and selfish, talks of things it does not understand
with a flippant arrogance well calculated to impose upon those who
have searched no deeper than the writer, and its general tone is that
of universal ill-will towards all the world, and a determination to stick to
all the old worn-out usages of its insular China till the crack
of doom, if it lasts so long.
Wednesday 23rd
Mr & Mrs Gajani came out to dine with us. We
were very glad to see them, and enjoyed their short visit extremely.
They are both most patriotic Americans - the one by adoption es-
-pecially. Mr Gajani knows many of the most intelligent men
either resident in Turin or brought there by the government, &
will help us break out of the charmed circle of the haute société.
Mrs G__. strikes me as a woman of excellent practical good sense.
with no nonsense of any kind about her. I should think she
spoke both French and Italian extremely well, though with
something which the English call the American drawl. We
learned from them that Count Castiglione who was sent by the
King to get some American wild animals for him, is to bring
home an Amer a New York wife - for himself, as Mrs G_
says. The Gajani's have been spending three months in the
Romagna with the husband's parents to the great delight of
Madame, who seems to have the gift of gathering honey everywhere.
How differently she feels from poor Mrs Valerio, whom a bad education
has made incapable of finding pleasure in any situation where she
herself is not the central point.
Thursday 24th
More home-letters this morning, and very satisfactory
generally though we have nothing yet from the source where we are
most anxious. Mr Kasson announces his safe return home and
writes rather encouragingly about our national affairs though he admits that
Mr Seward is determined on making the earliest peace possible without
quarrelling about the peculiar institution. In fact every effort seems to be
making by copperheadism to get back the 'Union as it was'. Mr Chase
is resolute in opposing this scheme, but what between the desperate de-
-termination of the old pro-Slavery Democrats and the stupid blindness
of the so-called conservatives and the timidity of a large class of real
patriots, there is no knowing what may happen. Our only certain way of
escape from the danger of having Slavery refastened upon us, lies in the
South itself. "More madness, Lord, give them more madness" must
be the prayer of everyone who looks upon this cursed institution as
the cause of all we have suffered, and as sure if preserved to bring
upon future generations still greater calamities. The spirit of the people
of the West, Mr Kasson says is for the complete uprooting of the whole
system - he even thinks they are prepared to go too far. I don't pre-
-cisely know what he means by this, but I am afraid he has a
little touch of the so-called conservatism about him. One piece
of domestic information he gives was very gratifying - his wife, he
says is thoroughly cured of her Romish propensities - may she
never have a relapse! His account also of his presentation to the
King of Belgium, his dinner with His Majesty and the Crown
Prince is quite interesting. He would make a first rate Diplomat
with a little more knowledge of French, and I hope he may someday
be so employed by our Government. We spent the morning
over the second batch of proof-sheets from the new book, bringing it
down to 130 pages, and we find it very correctly printed. This
evening as we were making some enquiries as to the gardener's plans
for the winter we found to our astonishment that he intended to pass
the winter months with his wife and children in the little stable under
the terrace in front of the library! This stable consists of two compartments
the one behind the other, the interior one being intended for the cow in
winter though she occupies the other in summer. Of course she is
driven through the gardener's only room night and morning during all
the cold season! The explanation the gardener gives of this mode of
life is that he cannot afford wood to keep his family warm elsewhere
for so many months. We were really shocked to think that a man
who had worked so hard all summer in the garden and the fields,
his wife washing for our household and her own, and working
our doors every spare moment - that these two could not in this
way earn enough to afford a winter fire, but must take refuse in
a stable with light only from two or three panes of glass when
the weather will not permit them to leave the door open. Giacchino
tells me that this is the common practice among the peasants here
who have stables at all, For instance the family who have the
charge of the so-called cascine just opposite us, were still living
in the stable when we came here last April. In this case
the family were not even separated by a partition from the cattle &
Giacchino says there were eight beds (the family is a very
large one) all under the same roof and in the same room with
the animals, and so they had lived for nearly six months.
Friday 25th
The rain which began yesterday still continues and the
chill autumn feeling it has brought was not diminished by a message
brought us this morning from Mr Artoni: "The Countess d'Angennes says
the house will not be ready for you before the 15 of October, and, in
my judgment, she might as well have said, not till the first of November."
Here then we are without the least chance of getting settled in town
before the bad roads and the cold winter are fairly upon us for the
winter. Pazienza! - Thanks to this good people for that word. I fancy the
relief one feels after having uttered it with unction as our Methodist friends
say, is something like that which a certain class of person feel when they
make use of more emphatic and less christian ejaculations.
A little scrap from F.D. Maurice addressed to Carlyle in the Daily News
on the subject of his American Iliad amused me not a little, and came so
à propos of his Gigmanity which we had just been reading in The Diamond
Necklace. On the whole T.C. has been very severely handled both by
the English and American Press for the levity and the falsehood im-
-plied in his few words on the subject of our terrible war. The Italian
papers contain interesting notices of the agricultural fairs which are beginning
to be held in various parts of the Italian kingdom. In Lombardy there
have been some very fine exhibitions - one landholder alone sent in
a hundred yoke of fine oxen, and no less than a hundred and forty
beautiful specimens of different varieties of grape. It is really delightful
to see how fast Italy is coming up with those who have long had
the start of her. Though the great staples of her industry: silk and wine,
are threatened with ruin, and she has in consequence suffered great losses
yet she is rapidly turning her attention to the cultivation of other things
and it is to be hoped in a few years more the agriculturalist will
reap such a harvest from his lands that he can afford to pay his
labourers fairer wages, and that in this way the poverty of the
lower classes may be deminished.
Saturday Sept. 26th -
I was very sorry to see this morning an article
in the Opinione evidently inspired by the French government. One
year ago this same paper speaking of the Emperor's course in Mexico
says: 'Italy must forever disapprove of such interference with the internal
affairs of foreign states, or be false to all the principles for which she
has stuggled and bled'. Today it says: 'If the Emperour and the
Arch-duke Maximilian shall succeed in establishing a strong
and stable government in Mexico they will have done the world
a great service'; and in alluding to the United States it says: 'as
that government intends ultimately to possess itself of Mexico so
its present policy is to keep up a state of anarchy and confusion
in that unfortunate country.' I do not give the words but as
nearly as possible the spirit of the article. Of course the opinion
of the Italian government on this subject is of no consequence to us
as a nation, but as friends of Italy it is painful to see the influence
of France drawing after it such men as one would expect even for
consistency's sake would show more independence. Mr Artoni tells
us that the Perseveranza of Milan, s no less a semi-official
paper, has an editorial today on the same subject quite in
the opposite sense. We have known from the first that some
members of the Ministry were entirely French with regard to
our cause, and we ought not to be surprised to see now and
then something that looks unfriendly, but so much the worse
for them. It is so difficult to make Europe understand that
the South is responsible for the filibustering of the last thirty
years, that the real people of our country, in other words, our
country itself, does not want more territory, and that when its
extension is spoken of no one dreams that it is to be by con-
-quest. We know the value of our institutions, the happiness
and the prosperity they have brought us and we feel sure that
ultimately our neighbors will beg to be allowed to enjoy the
same blessings, but until they are enlightened enough to know
their worth and to ask for them we should consider them
only a curse. On the other hand how can it be supposed
that we shall patiently be told by a French usurper "I am
going to put a stop to your further extension"? It may
be that he cares as little for the rest of Africa as we for Mexico, but
how would he take it if we were to send an armed force to the
borders of his Algerian colony with a frank declaration that our inten
-tion was to prevent him from taking possession of any more territory
on that continent? - I wish these things did not make one
quite so indignant. Mr Artoni arrived to dinner in the midst
of a violent thunder-storm, with wind rain and hail that made
me really tremble for him. He was tutto bagnato but nothing
worse. | Today the papers say not a single death has occurred in Turin.
Sunday 27th
(Population 250000)
Giacchino has just brought in a little basket
of nuts from Marian who says her poor mother has been crying
all day because she had nothing to give her children to eat. I
felt reproached for not having kept a more careful eye upon them
knowing they were so destitute. What is to become of them this win-
-ter is difficult to foresee. Poor things they have not even a stable
to go to. This reminds me to notice that after being so much
shocked to find the peasantry were obliged to live in common
with their cattle during the winter I learned from our Marie
who really has quite a little fortune, that she considered it a
very happy thing to be able to retreat to a stable for the winter,
and regretted that they had no cattle, and consequently no stable!
Towards evening I saw the gardener's wife, and had a talk
with her. She is much distressed by the loss of her brother
and says her poor old parents will never lift up their heads
again. This evening a fresh telegram gives promise of a
near approach of an outbreak with France, and Charleston
not yet in our hands. However we have seen darker days
and I trust in Heaven that we may yet shake the throne of
that impertinent quack who calls himself Emperor of the French.
- certainly neither by the will of God nor the will of the people,
only by the sufference of both.
Monday 28th -
The American papers contain Charles Sumner's speech
in New York, the portion of which relating to foreign affairs has
called out so much indignation in England. It is however as
usual in such cases so vilely printed that no eyes could stand the
reading of it. As far however as I can judge it is really a
softened picture of the course our magnanimous mother has
taken during this fiery trial of ours. It must have cost Sumner
no small sacrifice of feeling thus to tell the truth to a Country
where he at least personally has been treated with great con-
-sideration and kindness. But he is not the man to forget
personal obligations though the truth may compel him to
say what must be distasteful even to his best friends.
The Turinese journals contain a notice of certain street
hawkers who profess to sell by the authority of the Church
faithful portraits of our Saviour and several saints taken
by celebrated artists during their own lifetime. I shall try
to get
one of
the handbills if possible, as I like to take home with
me the proofs of things so often denied by Romanists in our
country. In our reading today in one of the concluding
chapters of Buckle's first volume we came across his
explanation of the reasons why Calvinism and Democracy,
Arminianism and aristocracy, generally went together. He
says that Calvinism which secures salvation by faith is a
cheaper religion than Arminianism which rather secures it
by good works - that the poor therefore chose Calvinism,
the rich Arminianism! It seems incredible that a man
of Buckle's intellect and learning could put forth such
childish nonsense as this. It is true that the Swiss were
once mostly Calvinists - it is true that the Puritans were
Calvinists - and it may be considered equally true that Cal-
-vinism is Democratic in its tendency for it certainly
encourages that independence of thought which always leads
in that direction, but if Mr Buckle would look a little
sharper at the statistics on which he places so much
reliance, he would find that the Calvinists are not
less ready to pay for their religion, to pour out their money
in what he calls good works than any other division of
the christian church. No other certainly has ever voluntarily
so generously supported its pastors, so liberally provided for
the instruction of the young, contributed such immense sums
to every imaginable benevolent object. If they have not
erected such magnificent Cathedrals as the Romish Church
has done (and who shall say that Rome is less Calvinistic
than Arminian) yet they have multiplied their little churches
in every corner of the earth to which persecution or an intelli-
-gent desire of improving their own condition and that of
others has carried them. It is not a week since talking
with a thinking Italian that he said to me: "You want to
see the church here as entirely separated from the State
as it is in America, but let me tell you that if our
clergy depended as yours do on the voluntary offerings
of the people they would starve. There is no class of
Italians who would do anything to sustain them; they
will not give like you Calvinists. The church might
might [sic] now and then get a legacy from a dying man,
but this would be all. Without the government they
could not be supported for six months", and yet the
present practical teaching of the Italian clergy is certainly
in favour of good works, and with them no work so
good as that of giving to themselves. But does Mr
Buckle suppose that the idea of 'good works' consists
wholly, or even in any considerable degree in the act of
bestowing ones goods? Does he think the poor Calvinist
thinks himself less in a condition to perform 'good works'
than the rich Arminian. The learned author is certainly
not strong in theology. In the evening we kept
ourselves awake with Carlyle's Dr Francia.
Tuesday Sept 29.
Mr Cocchetti's card roused us very unexpectedly
from a German reading, but we were very glad to see our visitor.
Mr Marsh was in Turin for the day, so our friend decided to
wait and dine with us, taking a walk to see the Baroness in the
course of the morning. The Baron only was at home, and Mr
Cocchetti soon returned. We talked over Pegli and acquaintances
there, and learned from Mr C. that poor Campazzi is well and
living on one pupil as usual. Of other friends he pretended to
know no more than we?. He has wandered about widely - Cour-
-mayeur, Acqui - Riquaro - Spezia - Florence &c, is rather improved
in health though far from well. Sir James Hudson, he says,
has taken a very large wreck of a palace on Lago di Garda.
The edifice, grand externally, belongs to an uncle of Mr Cocchetti
but the interior was entirely destructed as he expresses it by
the Austrians, and used as a barrack. This palace was
occupied for a time by Lady Montagne, though it is not the
one which has been looked for in vain on the Lago d'Iseo.
We talked a little of the French, Mexico, &c and I found what
is clearly enough to be seen in all the Italians one meets, that
Mr Cocchetti entertains a hope that Italy will some how or other
get Venice from Austria in exchange for this new Empire. I
don't think they have yet learned anything whatever of the
true character of their wily ally. They don't love him nor
trust him, but they still hope great things from him.
Wednesday Sept. 30th.
In my notes yesterday I left out the most remarkable
event of the day - the appearance of Mr & Mrs De Zeyck at
the Legation, and the actual payment on their part of the 250
francs sent Madame last summer. They profess to have received
remittances from America and I trust Mr Artoni and Mr Clay
may fare as well as we have done, though Mr De Zeyck's
hot indignation against Mr Marsh for reproaching him
for his recklessness in borrowing from every possible
source, is no doubt the spur that has driven him
to make this most unexpected payment. Mr Marsh
tells me that it is quite curious to observe the freight on
the railway just now. There are long trains of wagons
carrying vats filled with grape which are taken to Turin
to the wine merchants who make the wine under their
own eye in town. - In talking with Cerutti this
yesterday Mr Marsh was distinctly assured that the Ministry
had no responsibility whatever with regard to the article
in the Opinione, and that he, Cerutti, had not even
seen it or heard or it until put in his hands by Mr Marsh,
also that he was quite sure his chef was equally ignorant
of it. He admitted however that it was in a very unfriendly
tone, and that as the Opinione was semi-official they
ought to set it right. Mr Marsh still thinks that the article
was written by an impiegato of the Ministry, though he does
not doubt Cerutti's assertion that neither he nor the Minister
of Foreign Affairs knew anything of it. Dina himself assumes
the responsibility when talking with Mr Artoni about it,
and says it is in accordance with his convictions. Dina
has generally been friendly to the United States, but he
knows little either of them or their political principles and
aims, and is not a man of very broad views on any
subject, though a sharp-sighted and keen observer of
what lies near to him. As a specimen of his breadth I
may say that he thinks it a matter of indifference to the
general progress of humanity
as to
what becomes of our Republic
if only the slave of the South is made a free man.
The Post brought us nothing of importance. The New York Times
had been anticipated by the English Daily News. It however contains
Mr Seward's last circular, and an editorial complimenting Mr Sumner's
speech highly. The Daily News on the contrary contains a long
speech from Earl Russell vindicating his course towards us and
complaining bitterly of Sumner. He takes good care to avoid
special charges, says nothing whatever about having kept back
Mr Seward's note with regard to the Trent affair, makes no
allusion to Mr Adams' declarations that the English government
was furnished with abundant proofs of the character of the
Alabama, and that nothing could explain the delay of its
action except a wish to let the pirate get off. On the
whole it is well calculated to make those who are not mi-
-nutely acquainted with all the facts believe he has acted
fairly, but it will only serve to strengthen the convictions
of those who have believed him capable of any Jesuitry.
The Diritto has an amusing anecdote that occurred at
the time of the late Review. On the evening of the 24th
at the gala in the great Milan theatre they played the
Marseillaise to the great disgust of Count Sartiges who
it appears was present against his will. When the air
was struck up he leaned forward to the minister of
Foreign Affairs and exclaimed: "Comment, Monsieur! Est-ce-que
on joue cette musique là en présence même du roi et ses
ministres?" "Mais Monsieur," replied Venosta, with a tact
that would have done credit to a more experienced diplomat,
"on a cru vous faire plaisir en jouant votre air national."
As to the Mexican question it seems perfectly certain from
the paper that Maximilian will accept the throne, and that he
won't. Thursday October 1st -
Preparations for our journey into the
south of France, and the post, used up the day very thoroughly. The
burthen of the English papers is still Sumner's speech, which they complain
of bitterly in general, but are silent on the subject of his most important facts.
The speech may have a bad effect at home by rousing prematurely the
popular feeling beyond what it was before, but I believe it will do good
in England notwithstanding the outcry they make against it. It will make
the government more careful, and fix the attention of the English nation for
a moment at least upon the possible consequences of the course that has been
pursued. In the evening Mr Marsh read to us Carlyle's Prinzen-raub.
He is a capital writer to shorten a long rainy autumnal evening.
Friday Oct. 2nd
The weather was so unpromising at six this morning, -
the hour at which we must decide - that we concluded to postpone our
journey until Monday. Husband went out very early to take a look at the
clouds and meeting little Marian with her cow, she said, "Cerea, Signore,
ha riposato bene!" He was much pleased with the salutation of the poor little
thing, whose manner, he says, would have done credit to a high-bred maiden.
We never cease to wonder at the native courtesy of the lower classes in Italy.
Carrie passed an hour with the Baroness in the evening.
Saturday Oct. 3rd
Mr Marsh brought from Turin the bad news of
Rosenkranz's [Rosecrans'] check - we fear severe defeat in Tennessee.
It would seems we have not been chastened enough yet.
Can we need much more before every soul among us shall
be willing to do away the accursed thing at once & forever!
The Baroness Gautier spent the evening with us and we dis-
cussed Mahomedanism among others things. I think she got
some new ideas that may soften her heart to pity at least
the Musselman, though she may feel none the less sure than
before of his certain condemnation.
Sunday Oct 4th
Dr & Madame Monnet passed the day with us. We
learned some interesting facts from them especially about the
Vaudois. A son-in-law of the Dr keeps a Latin-school in
one of the valleys, & many boys come to it from very poor
families. These boys bring their bread from home - enough at once to
last from one to three months - also their sheets. They then are received
into some decent family which furnishes them with a bed and a soupe
maigre once a day and also does their washing - and for this they pay
three francs - or sixty cents, a month. I could not have believed this
statement from a less trustworthy source, and these are the boys who
become the pastors and teachers of the Vaudois. We talked over
Rénan a little and found the Dr and Madame differed as widely
with regard to him as a Vaudois Protestant and a left wing Unitarian
might be expected to. The Dr was kind enough to visit at our request
the poor sick girl who has been the victim of one hundred and fifty
bleedings not to name leaches during the last six years. To our astonish-
-ment he declares that she has still vitality enough to be made much
more comfortable, and will undertake to get her into the hospital at Turin
for us. The Director of the Piòbesi hospital has just sent a handsome
note of thanks for the bedding we have sent them; but the gratitude of
poor little Marian's mother is far more gratifying.
Monday Oct. 5th 1863
We took the morning train for Turin, intending
to wait at the Legation till one when we were to leave for Susa.
After greeting Mr Clay and Mr Artoni I took a carriage to go to Mrs
Tottenham, whom I felt I must see before going away - but we met
her on her way to see a friend at the hotel. She was much overcome
and my heart aches for her. \ On my return to the Legation I found Mr
Max Müller was in town, and had sent to see if he could find
Mr Marsh. It was already so late that I persuaded husband to put off
our going to the next train at five. This gave him an opportunity to pass
two pleasant hours with the great man and his pretty wife, and we
were still able to reach Susa in time to make all necessary arrangements
for the morning.
Tuesday Oct 6th -
In obedience to telegraph we found young Borgo
had a fine carriage ready for us and we set off this morning at seven
for Briançon. For an hour or more the road, which struck off to
the South, was quite as good as that over the Mont Cenis and
the view we thought finer. Every new zigzag brought us again
and again directly over the town of Susa which certainly gained by
distance. The inhabitants of this place had struck us as remarkably
coarse and ill-looking, but the further we proceded up the Dora the
more comely the people became. One girl we noticed in a little hay-
-field just by the roadside had a very remarkable face. Her large dark
flashing eyes were set off by a very brilliant complexion, her n
nose delicate in outline, gave great power of expression to her face by
that peculiar spread of the nostrils which shows at once high spirit
and strength of purpose, and there was a curl about her beautiful
lips
The descent from La Grave to Bourg d'Oysans was most inter-
esting. For a long time we had the finest glacier views on
our left, nor did we lose them entirely till we were fairly
housed at the Bourg. On our right were lofty, and, for the most
part, naked mountains, sometimes abrupt precipices a thousand
feet or more in height with charming waterfalls bounding
from their crests. One of these waterfalls, Le Saut de la Pucelle
or the Maiden's Leap, reminds one of the Staubbach to
which it is much superior in height though the volume
of water is less. At this season it does not quite clear the
face of the rock-wall, but in the spring and early summer
the
greater
quantity of water would not no doubt enable it to do so.
Wherever the mountain-sides were less steep, the slopes were cov-
ered with fragments of shattered or crumbling rock of every
possible dimension from stones of thousands of tons to the
mere powder into which these had crushed others by their
own fall. Many of the larger masses had been hurled across
the road, [illegible] carrying with them far down into the stream
below the solid wall of masonry built up to sustain this
grand high-way. Indeed every heavy rain, every severe frost,
every spring thaw must do immense damage here. As I look
looked at these wild ruins of the so-called everlasting hills
- far more sublimely grand than any of man's pigmy struct-
ures ever can be in their day - I could not help
asking myself if all this could indeed be the work of those
chemical & elemental forces which are ever working around us
and for the most part so silently. - At the High up one
of the mighty chasms
filled by streams of the great Glacier de Lans
on our lept left we observed one
of those ice arches formed by the flow of water under the glacier
and we thought it much larger
than
the famous one at Chamonix.
The part of the ravine called La Combe de Malaval is nearest
La Grave, lower down, where it is even much narrower, it
is called L'Inferné. In the Combe the rock is generally [illegible] igneous,
lower down the valley there is a good deal of slate and near
Bourg d'Oysans the distortions in the
strata of the
limestone rocks are most
curious. Notwithstanding the general character of wild and terrible
sublimity that marks this wonderful valley of the Romanche it is not
unfrequently relieved by patches of cultivation far up the slopes and
even now and then there is a little basin of most exquisite verdure.
There is something too exceedingly touching in the effort Nature is every
where making to reclothe her nakedness. Wherever it is in any way
possible she is hanging here and there a shred, now on some
jutting rock, now on some little slope brought down by an ex-
-tinct torrent. Sometimes even an almost perpendicular rock
is covered with slender young larches, or other mountain trees or
shrubs, and the autumn tints of their foliage made these
wild places look almost
half
gay. The nearer we came to Bourg d'Oysans
the more considerable the vegetation, and the lower portions
of the slopes really smiled before we reached the fine large
alluvial basin in which the town stands. The Romanche is
here far above the buildings of the Bourg, and it is kept in
its bed by a very strong wall at least fifteen feet above its usual
elevation. It was nearly nightfall when we drove into the town
- a very unsavory place, and the hotel looked most unpromising
when we first [illegible] entered. The rooms were very small and
ill-aired, and when we opened the windows there came a very
painful sense of street-drains, but there was no help for it - there
we must pass the night.
Devoluy
Thursday [illegible] 8th
Our night quarters proved more tolerable than we had expec-
-ted - the dinner was fair, and a strong south wind cleared the atmosphere
from what was most disagreeable - so that when we crossed the bridge over
the Romanche I left unperformed the vow made on first entering the town
- namely, to pierce a hole in the river-wall and give the Bourg at
least one washing. The wind continued very strong for a couple of hours
after we were on our way back, and soon after a fine rain set in &
when we reached La Grave it was almost an ouragan, and a rainy
one at that. The contrast between our passage of this col de Lauteret
[illegible] yesterday and today reminded Carrie of Birdofreedom Sawin's
return over his 'happy mornin' track'. Everything, in fact, was
changed except the three or four fine tunnels which had struck us
so much yesterday, and the terrible desolation of the lower mountains
which we could still see - The glaciers were almost entirely lost. After
a long riposo at La Grave we set out for the summit in a smart rain
with a wind that made the carriage tremble, and this continued
all the way to the Hospice on the top. Here we thought Borgo
wished to stay, as it was already half past four, but the temperature
was fast growing colder, and we feared the whole summit of the
pass would be deeply covered with snow before morning. He good-
naturedly consented to come down an hour, and we drove into
Le Monetier just as it was growing dusk. - Happily for us there
was a respectable inn here; instead of passing through a stable
we entered at once a comfortable little dining room nicely warmed
by a very Yankee-looking stove. Our bedrooms though small
were perfectly neat, and there was an air of comfort about everything.
I was delighted to find they could only give us a chicken, an ome-
-lette, and some boiled potatoes for dinner, as, if they had had more
we must have waited for it to be cooked, - a long waiting as we
learned last night. This simple fare was soon ready - some cheese
jellies, and fruits added - and we went to bed satisfied and th
thankful. Friday October 9th
We were much pleased to find the rain
over this morning - the more so as Borgo had been obliged to leave
the carriage out in the street all night, there being no remise in the
town - not even the humblest shed under which he could run it.
At eight we were on our way, having paid four francs apiece
for the chicken omelette & potatoes, and 2 francs apiece for some
bread, butter, cheese & honey this morning, with lodging to match.
But one pays in this way to these poor innkeepers, living in such mis
erable out of the way places, far more cheerfully than one bears the
extortions of a Swiss landlord on the greatest highways of travel.
We were very glad to find that an abundance of coal had been
found in these valleys, and our host at Le Monetier had a good
anthracite cooking-stove in his kitchen. We ran down to
Briançon in less than an hour and a half, and left it on our left
hand without entering. It is prettier from a distance rather than seen
within its own walls and we had not the least wish to renew
our intercourse with the Ours. As soon as we turned to follow
the course of the Durance which bends her to the south, the
sharpness of the wind up from which we had really suffered was
much diminished, and we were soon almost comfortable again. The
peaks of the Pelvoux group were visible on our right just above La
Bessée - indeed the whole chain in that direction showed itself
finely, but the bright sunshine soon passed, and it was quite
plain that we must again expect bad weather. By the way, the report
from the Col this morning by the diligence was that the it ex-
-perienced a violent snowstorm there during the night, and had
made its way to Le Monetier 'avec beaucoup de peine' - From
Bundle - the name we gave our boy of the renforts from a dispute
between my husband and myself as to whether a checked blan-
ket which I observed on the box behind, contained a
real live christian
boy or only
d' clo' - we heard nothing - but I hope he got back safe to La Grave
Also it appears that the diligence was not stopped by brigands, though
Mr Marsh insists that he saw two on our way down, one of whom
he described as of the 'female persuasion', the other 'a boy f about
four year old.' They were both armed certainly but though Mr Marsh gave
the weapon some very terrible name it looked to me extremely
like a long crooked iron tool which they use in this valley for digging
potatoes. This morning we made our halt at Saint Crepin, a sorry
place - about 15 miles from Briançon. Our servants, after taking
a look at the inside of the auberge, advised us to spend the two
hours & a half in the carriage, and as this counsel was quite in
harmony with our conclusions from an outside inspection, we
did not hesitate to follow it. Husband got out and made friends
with a chatty old woman who gave him some curious information
that the peasants were almost without exception proprietors, owning at
least a little patch of ground - the field just before her, for instance,
was owned by many different persons, and some of the divisions, which
she called bancs or bands, could not have contained more than
the 20th of an acre - mineral coal was abundant there and
they warmed themselves cheaply - they were so poor they seldom
eat meat - the taxes and the administration of the forests
were the ruin of the peasants - if they took the least stick in
the woods they were siezed by the garde forestiere & fined -
every thing was taxed even to the light & air admitted by a window -
she herself owned land enough to produce twelve or thirteen sétiers
of rye & three of
or
four of wheat - she paid taxes for that land
to the amount of twelve or thirteen francs a year - she had
some animals on which she paid ten francs; the rate a
year being ten sous for a sheep, thirty for a cow, and thirty
for a goat. (on account of the
its
destructive habits?) - nothing for
a donkey - that recently there were some new Communal
taxes which would add to their burdens - &c &c - After this talk
with the old woman Mr Marsh set out to walk till the car-
-riage should overtake him, leaving C. and myself to amuse ourselves
as we could. We filled up our time with watching the boys
and girls that grouped themselves about us, and I had occasion
to notice again what I have frequently observed before - whenever
we entered into conversation with any of those about us, if
another person stepped up and tried to join in the talk the
one first spoken to would say rather roughly to the intruder:
"Hush, hush, these strangers don't understand your patois."
A poor old woman from the fields was snibbed as old
Wycliffe would have said by a boy of eight years old. The
old dame was intelligible enough, but the boy, who spoke the
school-French took this method to get rid of her. This reminds
me of our amusing discussion between two boys of six or eight
while we were waiting for the formalities on the frontier. The
urchins, after carefully inspecting the carriage and horses concluded
that the value of the whole establishment could not be less than
2000 francs. As to ourselves, after listening to our conversation
together for some time the one told the other gravely that we spoke
a patois, and must therefore be Piedmontese!
Before the riposo was over the weather grew decidedly worse
and the rain came on in a few minutes after we drove off.
Mont Dauphin was about a mile and a half beyond St Crépin
on our right, and looked very finely as we drove past it. This
fortress was suggested by Victor Amedeo II. During the first French
Republic the name was changed to Mont Lyon, but the old name
was restored afterwards. In 1815 this fort refused to open its gates
to the allies - It contains splendid trees, generally elms - 4000 of
which are said to have been planted by Monsieur Massillon,
grand son of the great preacher. A periodic wind prevails here
owing to the confluence of the vallies of the Guil and the Du-
-rance, the Rioubel, the Vars and the Risoul, and its earliest
name was Mille-Vents. In the course of the afternoon we passed
over the beds of several wild torrents, none containing a very
small quantity of water, but the devastation they have caused
is something really fearful. Mr Marsh had walked 13 kilos
or more than 8 English miles when we overtook him, tutto bagnato,
as Borgo said. We arrived at Embrun about half past five, &
forgot the fine wall and trench and gates as soon as we were
fairly inside the town, where the streets were in the worst
possible condition, narrow and dirty to the last degree. The
Hôtel de Milan, the only one that made any approach to
decency, was bad enough. The officers of the garrison were making
merry in the dining-room in a most soldierly way. Alexander
looked black as midnight, but Borgo found a remise for his carriage
and smiled, which was some comfort under the otherwise melancholy
circumstances. Giacchino told me that the stable question was doubly
important tonight, as the poor horses were not able to lie down
the night before. I enquired why; "They had no room." The stable
was very very small, and when Borgo took in his horses there
were were already in it a cow, three or four sheep, a dozen
ducks, some chickens, and an old woman and a maid
servant had h each of them a bed there!" Then there was
a drain just behind the horses, and they could not lie down
without getting into the water."
Saturday October 10th
The morning was fine as the hostess
fortold to me, and Mr Marsh took an early walk about the
town, and after his explorations came back and took Carrie over
the same ground. The most interesting items brought back to me
were, first, the law with regard to the vintage - it being strictly
forbidden to gather any grapes before the 5th of October, and
then no interruption was allowed in the work until the 12th.
This seemed such a strangely arbitrary regulation that Mr Marsh
asked an old man why it existed. He said that any one whose
vineyard was walled in might gather his grapes when he pleased,
but, as for the most part there were no distinct divisions between
the small grape fields, if every one cut the fruit of his own
patch whenever he liked there were constant complaints from
adjourning proprietors that their divisions had been trespassed upon.
But if every man was in his own field on the same days there
could be no dispute. Another curious street-notice referred to the
Octroi. Embrun contains about 3000 inhabitants, and the octroi
is farmed out, as we say, to the highest bidder - the upset price
being 20000 francs annually - what a tax for so miserable a
population! There was also a placard from the abbé Arsac, of-
-fering to designate the proper places for wells - services gratis
for the poor, but for reasonable compensation from the rich.
One other fact Mr Marsh learned which must strike an Amer-
-ican with astonishment. A fine salt-spring, discovered near
the town, had been filled up by order of the government. The
revenue from salt is very important, no doubt, but when one
sees the gray, dirty-looking substance used by the poor under
the name of salt, and used as sparingly as if it were gold-
dust, one cannot help asking why, if the government must
have the monopoly of salt, it does not at least take these
springs into its own hands, and increase the quantity and
the quality of its sales by improving the article, and making
it more abundant. I should have said that Embrun dates
back to the Roman times - anciently Ebnodunum, and when we
drove out of it we all agreed that the accumulations of ages could
alone explain its shocking condition - first a fire, and then a
flood, and such a flood as these mountain torrents that sweep
everything before them could cause, would alone cleanse this
human den. It is a curious fact that in addition to all the terrible
conflicts these valleys have witnessed between Protestants and
Catholics, many of them were long in possession of the Saracens
who came here in the ninth century. It was higher up in this
valley that the famous Protestant pastor Neff was born. - From Em-
brun we drove to Gap - turning off from the Durance to the right
not far from Savines. Torrent after torrent we crossed, some
with beds of astonishing width, and a large cross created
near each. This custom we have observed ever since we came
into this desolated Dauphiné. At a small town called La
Bâtei Neuve about half way between Embrum & Gap stood a very
ancient castle, of a striking appearance. All we could learn
of it was that it was formerly of great military importance but
was dismantled in 16__ by the Piedmonstese. At Chorges
we were to have seen some Roman remains - a pedestal which
according to the inscription upon it once suported a bust
of Nero, &c - but the Church in front of which they are
preserved lay out of our way. As we drew near Gap, things
began to look more prosperous - in fact as soon as we left
the immediate valley of the Durance, so washed & wasted - we
came upon a better looking region and the views from the
eminences were often exquisite - the wide, wide vineyards, golden
with autumn-tints, now covering a rolling hill, now hanging like a
bit of tapestry almost against a naked rock - now trying to es-
tablish themselves as it were in the very beds of the torrents among
heaps - mountains - of pebbles - then the green meadows with the tall
poplars, the walnuts and here & there an old chateau - the brown
hills behind with their black ravines infinitely ramified, and high
above all the great white glittering snow peaks to the east.
There is a fine avenue & walk outside the town of Gap and the
whole aspect of the plane was cheerful. Its manufactories of [illegible]
wool & silk explain its comparative aisance. Borgo pulled
up at the Hotel du Nord - really neat & comfortable - and we
were soon quietly settled in our rooms and discussing what to do
next - Mr Marsh wished to leave the rest of us here and take a
guide and go tomorow morning to St Bonnet, thence up into the
Devoluy, a district lying at the junction of the three Departments
of L'Isére, Le Drôme, and Les Hautes Alpes. St Bonnet is famous
as the birth-place of Lesdiguièares, the terrible Protestant chief, who
finally followed his great master Henry IV in his sham conversion
to the Romish church. The Devoluy is accessible from St Bonnet
only on foot, and its frightful desolation is the real object that
attracts the traveller here. The mountains are washed bare of every
thing like vegetation, and their rocky skeletons are crumbling into
fragments which roll in huge masses to the ravines below.
Headlong torrents sweep down their sides during heavy rains
carrying with them loosened rocks and stones with a noise
of thunder for down the wasted valleys which are now
as desolate as the mountains themselves. We were told that
after a twelve or fifteen miles' walk from St Bonnet among
these fearful ruins Mr Marsh would find a little hamlet
called St Etienne where an adventurous traveller might
possibly sleep, and another fifteen miles' walk the next
morning would bring him to Veynes where we might
meet him with the carriage on the way to Serre. It
was decided to follow this plan if the weather should be
good, and we slept upon this resolution.
Sunday 11th
The rain began before midnight, and
continued some time after we were up in the morning, so
that the Devoluy scheme was regretfully given up. Later it
cleared somewhat, and we set off for Serre. The torrents
we had to pass were swollen, but not so much as to impede
our way. The country through which we passed had many
interesting features, but nothing very striking till we were near Veynes.
Then we could see a few of the bared mountains of the Devoluy looking
in the distance like vast ash-heaps. In the immediate valley we
were in there was still much vegetation. The hand of the
government - beneficent for once - was everywhere visible. The
willow, the maratime pine, the poplar, were planted in such
portions of the torrent-beds as could be partially protected from
the floods. The crests of the mountains were fringed with young
forests of evergreens, and many of the slopes on which nature had
gathered every possible shrub to hide her naked bosom, were as
gay with red and green and orange and purple as ever I
have seen one of our own Vermont hillsides. And on the débris
at the foot of these slopes, which really seemed little else than
heaps of stones, were spread the finest vineyards now in their
full glory. The huge clusters of ungathered grapes were all the
more visible as the autumn winds had swept off most
of the leaves, and the ground looked sometimes almost black
with the abundance of the dark purple bunches, here entirely
free from disease. The peasants were everywhere busy gathering
this lovely harvest, and we stopped twice to supply ourselves
with the lucious fruit. Fortunately they condescended to
sell it here, but on the Durance we found it was a matter of
pride with the peasants not to take money for their grapes,
and of course we soon ceased to ask for what they could
ill afford to give away. These 'points of honour' to be found
in every class among mankind, and yet so infinitely varied
furnish curious subjects of reflection. We make no riposo
today, the distance from Gap to Serre [Serres] being only about 25 miles.
Two or three miles before reaching Serre we struck into a narrow
and most desolate-looking gorge, and I really could not believe
when we saw the stone marked 'one kilomètre to Serre' that
any human habitation could be so near. A sudden turn
however brought us in sight of the few houses that compose
the town, and a very lovely fertile basin lay just below it.
Beautiful children were playing in the road on the outskirts
of the town which in itself had a miserable appearance, &
I looked in vain for the famous family residence of Lesdi-
guières said to be still the finest house in all this part of the
country. The Hôtel de Moulin which was our destination
looked anything but inviting, but Carrie and I both felt ill
and were in a frame of mind to endure anything that could offer
a bed on which to throw ourselves. We were shown two rooms
each containing two beds precisely in the state they were left by
their occupants of the night before. The coarse, unbleached
linen sheets looked, and felt to the fingers, as if they were
made of dark-coloured horse-hair - the condition of the floor
was what might have been expected. Alessan. was very lowering
and at last dashed off in search of something better elsewhere
though we warned him that his search would be fruitless.
We watched his returning steps from our windows with no small
interest, but as soon as he saw us our feeble hopes were
dashed by that peculiarly significant gesture - a horizontal
motion of the fore-finger just in front of the nose. Nothing
remained but to conciliate our stormy-browed host, who was
indignant at discovering that our servant had gone to another
house. In process of time he was pacified. Alessandro and
Giacchino superintended such clensing processes as were possible
under the circumstances, and when after an hour we were
shown again into the same rooms the change seemed as
marvellous as magic. The beds were covered with the whitest linen,
if not of the finest, at least not of the coarsest, white napkins
covered the [illegible]
rude stained wood tables,
the floors were thoroughly swept, the dust
carefully removed, and there was an air of positive comfort about
the whole. Mr Marsh who had not yet put down his walking
stick, now even took off hat and overcoat, and we all proceeded
to make preparations for a night-halt. An hour later we were
served with hot boiled potatoes, some beef which the cook said was à la
mode, two pigeons & a roast-chicken, [illegible]
the latter
a palpable case of
sudden
metempschychosis [metempsychosis] from a very ancient cock. We did very well however,
the potatoes were good, so was the gruyère, and the vin ordinaire -
excellent in itself - was only watered to a paint not past the palatable.
When we went to bed it was raining furiously & I was inexpressibly [illegible]
thankful that Mr Marsh was not wandering at large among the
torrents of Devouluy.
Monday 12 Oct.
No improvement in the weather this morning,
indeed we dared not set out on our journey again while the rain
was falling so fast - especially after we learned that the diligence
had been detained five hours in the night by an eboulement. The
torrents too were serious things in this weather and we resolved to wait
for the change that comes so often about mid-day. In the mean
time Alex__ had asked for our bill for the night and found, rather
to his astonishment, that we were changed five francs apiece for our
dinner. In reply to a somewhat energetic remonstrance on his part
the landlord said very curtly, "À moins de cinq francs on ne dine pas
chez moi!" and 'besides,' he added more apologetically, 'I have asked
only twelve francs for the rooms which is altogether too little'. We
ordered the bill to be paid without further parley and seized the
first lull in the storm to set out in search of other, though
very possibly not better, quarters. The country between Serres
and Remuzat is only interesting as an example of the view that
may result from an improvident waste the forest. Every where
denuded rocks, vast mountain-slopes striped of vegetable-mould
and pouring down torrents through the channels worn in their sides,
huge mounds of commmuted slate black as volcanic ashes - all
the effect of the rain on a steeply inclined soil stripped of trees. We
passed
over
some eight or ten
unbridged
torrents at most of which several men
were at work clearing out of the road the largest stones brought
down by them, filling up the dangerous gullies they made, and
directing the traveller where to pass cross most safely, Most
of them were heavily charged with mud, but many a bright clear
waterfall came bounding down over the hard limestone crests
or burst out through some flinty wall. The sky grew black
again soon after we left Serres, and before we reached the water-
shed between the valleys of the Durance & the Rhone we
found ourselves in a driving storm of rain & hail. At last
we saw the Blème running one way and the Aigues the
other & hoped the latter would take us into a milder climate.
No great change however was perceptible as we followed its
rapidly rolling mud-waters down to the point where its joined
by the Oule near Remuzat. Here we struck off from the main
high way, crossed a fine new bridge and in a few minutes were
in Remuzat where we were to pass the night. Borgo drew
up before an inn of most unprepossessing aspect, Alex__ asked
for rooms, understood there was but one for the whole party,
and thereupon lost his wits. His first order to Borgo was to turn
the carriage round. As I saw from the window that this was
impossible in the narrow street where we were I tried to counter-
-mand the order, but A. utterly deaf, ran off in some other di-
-rection; neither could we make Borgo who was on the box hear through
the storm. The experiment of turning was tried, the horses became
unmanageable, dashed the carriage against the door of the
Remise, broke the tongue and our only remaining window.
Fortunately no other damage was done, but Ales. who had hurried
back on seeing the catastrophe, was now more frantic than ever -
'bel lavoro, bel lavoro!' he cried, and we saw no more of him
for the next half hour. In the meantime Mr Marsh went into the
house, found it had capabilities and well disposed inmates.
Two small rooms were shown him, each containing a double bed,
and the landlady promised him a third, not however without
having first put the question: "Est-ce que vous avez quelque chose
à vendre, Monsieur?" To understand this question I should previse
that Jew-travellers except commis-voyageurs ever visit this region,
and Mr Marsh was extremely diverted at being taken for a
pedlar. We told Giacchino the good news about the rooms, but
she was scarcely more herself than Alex. had been, and his con-
-tinued absence really frightened her. We did not like to
mortify him by giving orders for dinner &c ourselves, but were
obliged to at last. The poor fellow finally came back looking decidedly
humble. - He had been more than a mile to look at another house
the sign of which he had seen far down the road across the
river - forgetting that if he had found a palace there we could
not get to it with our carriage - tongue gone, and in such a
pouring rain! By degrees he quieted down, Giacchino finally
recovered her composure, our rooms were settled, as the Irish
say, and we were soon at table with a smoking dish of boiled
potatoes before us, some álamode beef, a fillet of roast pork, two
pigeons and a partridge. This was a triumph. Then we had ex-
-cellent gruyère and a fine dish of grapes to crown the board. It
was certainly not pleasant to be obliged to pass from the dining-room
through a regular old Roman impluvium and then up a
very wet and dirty staircase to our rooms, but when we were
once in them they were not so bad. The beds and linen were clean
and comfortable, and we really had the means of washing face &
hands, though the basin would not hold over a pint of water. I
have often seen those of the pudding-dish form before but never one
so Lilliputian. Tuesday 13
Rain, still rain, After a
council held, we decided to try to get on as far as Nyons
without waiting for the flood to abate. We were the more anxious
to do this as the river was constantly rising, and a long detention
here would be rather serious. Besides we were encouraged by the
post-boy who assured us there were no torrents to pass between Remuzat
and Nyons - that the only danger was from petites pierres which fell
sometimes during rains from the mountains in the gorge. By half
past eight we were rolling down the valley in a brisk rain. The water
was roaring and hissing on all sides of us, and it was not long before
we were in an extremely fine and striking gorge, the walls of
which were of fine-grained limestone, shattered into those large blocks
which look so much like masonry. Here and there the steep sides re-
ceded, and a beautiful waterfall came tumbling out from some
ravine behind. In one instance a large stream of water, clear as crys-
-tal, came bounding over the highest cliff within our view, and
shooting like the Staubbach quite clear of the
sides of the
rocky precipice over
which it leapt; it struck the rocks however once more before reaching
the river, and from that point it was so like the beautiful lace wa-
-terfall we once saw in the gorge of gondo, that we all made the compar
ison in a breath. It was worth a day's travel in the rain to see so
magnificent a sight - one that probably could not be seen except in
such weather. On one of these lime-stone ridges, which projected buttress-
like into the river, on the very highest crest stood an old castle
ruinous indeed, but still presenting striking features. On the opposite
bank too, further down the stream was another, still more [illegible]
dilapidated
and half covered with dark ivy, [illegible]
large masses
of which were swaying
in the wind. After leaving the gorge we came suddenly upon the
olive which looked particularly flourishing - we also saw a few
fig trees, and the vines were very abundant. The town of Les Pilles
- said to have derived its name from the Greek,
(a gate)
and to have been
colonized by the Phocians, consists of a single street, there being no
space for more on the river margin. The valley narrows again here
but does not compare in grandeur with what we saw above. Before
entering the town of Nyons, more considerable and more respectable in
appearance than we looked for, one sees a remarkably fine bridge of
the fourteenth century leading to the opposite bank of the river. We
kept to the right of this, and were soon sheltered in the Hôtel des Voy-
-ageurs, the best quarters we have had since we left Gap. A walk
to the old bridge was all Mr M. & C. could do between the drenching
showers in the way of exploration, though we arrived at Nyons
before noon.
Wednesday 14th
A violent wind all night and a com-
paratively clear sky this morning. Refreshed by the good table & good
beds of the Hotel des Voyageurs, we fixed on eleven this morning to start
for Orange - this giving time for the torrents to be pacified -
To eyes accustomed to the olive the vine and the mulbery the drive
between Nyons and Orange offers nothing of special interest. The surface
of the country is undulating, the soil consists of pebbles and gravel with
just enough earth to retain a little moisture, but even in this the olive
and vine thrive well. Just beneath this superficial soil lies a bed of
that fine building-stone used so much in Paris. It is so soft as to be
very easily worked, and on exposure to the air hardens sufficiently to
last for centuries. At the very entrance of Orange stands the old
Roman triumphal arch - one of the most imposing I have ever
seen. It is built of this same
soft lime-
stone, but portions of it are still in very
tolerable preservation, and the inside of the arch is wonderfully beau-
-tiful in design but slightly injured by time. We looked at it
carefully before going to our Hotel - de la Porte - and as soon as
we had secured rooms there we drove to the old theatre. The front
of this magnificent wall is certainly very impressive, and viewed
from within the effect though different is hardly less striking.
But the perfect hurricane which was blowing, and a tedious
old guide nearly spoiled our pleasure. There is little else to see
in Orange and if there had been I was decidedly too ruffled
to look for it, and we came home to dinner. In the evening
we learned to our great satisfaction that the Gasparins are actually
here and in the paternal mansion only a few doors from our
hotel. Thursday 15th
Mr Marsh sent his card to the Gasparins
this morning and the countess sent word she would be most
happy to see him. He went, and found it was not Madame
Agénor Gasparin, but the wife of an elder brother. She proved
however a very charming woman - expressed many regrets that
her husband was absent, having gone up the valley of the Ardèche
to look after
one
of his brother Agénor's estates which he feared had been
flooded by the late rains. She also showed him a very fine
miniature of the Count Agénor and other family portraits -
also the library in which her distinguished father-in-law worked,
little table at which he wrote, and the small bed-room adjoining
in which he always slept, and where he died last summer. Every
thing was in the plainest style possible, very comfortable but
without the least show, and all old. Madame de Gasparin, as
soon as she was told that I was habitually an invalid and less
well than usual this morning, offered to come over and see me
at once, which she did, bringing with her a son of seventeen.
Her English is admirable, and her kindness in offering us hospitality
and every service in her power was unbounded. When I told her
that we felt so much indebted to the Count and Countess Agénor
de Gasparin that we were unwilling to pass any members of
the family without paying our respects to them she said - "Ah
but in me you see the least - the very least - the most in-
-significant one of the whole. I wish so much that you and
Mr Marsh would only see my brother and sister. The latter is so
full of genius, is so good, - oh she is so charming! And then I
am so sorry my husband is not at home - and he would have
had so much pleasure in taking Mr Marsh with him up into
the valley of the Ardèche since he is interested in our valleys."
She could not have regretted his losing this opportunity
so much as we did, but at any rate even this little interview
with her was most agreeable, and we now feel as if our personal
relations were fairly commenced with a family in whom we feel
the strongest interest. As soon as the Countess left we put on
hats and shawls, and in a few minutes were on our way to
Avignon. The rain had set in and the wind consequently
somewhat abated, though it still blew very fresh. We found
the country much more interesting than that through which we
passed yesterday - apparently much more fertile and abounding
in trees. We noticed particularly immense numbers of young
cypresses planted very close and evidently intended to shelter
exposed tracts from the wind. They were for the most part
planted with a decided lean towards the south, an inclination
which such winds as we have experienced would soon correct.
Avignon looked very pretty as we approached it, and Borgo's
ignorance of the place gave us an opportunity of driving through
every crooked lane through which a carriage could pass before
we reached the Hôtel d'Europe. We considered this fortunate as
we saw what we should probably not have seen otherwise - at
any rate what we did not see when we were here before. I was
surprised at finding the circumstances of our last visit here start up
before me with such clearness as I came up the staircase of this
old rambling hotel. f Fourteen years ago! It does not seem possible.
Friday 16th Oct.
I was not able to go out this morning, and left
the doing of Avignon to Mr Marsh and Carrie. The first
trouvaille was a choice old enamel which we secured for
Mary for her friends the Bulls. If we may believe the Jew-owner
we snatched it from the hands of John Bull to transfer it to those
of Harry. The treasure being sent safe to the hotel they went to Ville-
neuve to see the tomb of Pope Inocent VI and so on to all the
plans the sage Murray recomends, and to some that he does not.
For instance to the fine old bridge, or rather ruin of a bridge, four
fine
grand
arches of which still remain. They returned with a portfolio of
photographs, and flushed with the hurricane that still blows,
but much pleased with their morning's lionizing. We dined
again at five and very well too, though we did not have the very fine Isabella
grapes which had surprised and pleased us so much the evening before. We thought
them much finer than any we had ever seen in America and even superior
to those from our vines at Piòbesi.
Saturday 17th
We really did get off for Nismes [Nimes] at half past 7
this morning, though I was so ill during the night last night as not to rest
myself nor allow Mr Marsh to do so; but with the daylight came fresh courage
and I decided to go, though not without fear of being brought up suddenly
by the way. We were to go by the Pont du Gard, and we had the same
cold wind, the same bright sunshine, and the same whirlwinds of dust
that we had fourteen years ago when we travelled this same road. The
country does not differ much from that between Orange and Avignon, only
that the olive-trees are far more abundant, and this year they are laden
with a profusion of fruit such as I have never seen before either in Italy
or in the East. The first was in different stages of progress on different trees;
in some cases the berry was but little more than set, not larger than a
small bean; in other it was already full grown, and dark purple, looking like
a lucious plumb. Sometimes all the different stages were seen on the same
tree. We saw again the Pont du Gard with even greater pleasure than
the first time, for by this time the wind was blowing less violently, and
we could study it more at our leisure. Nothing can be farther from
correct than Murray's account of it. He states the water passage to be
about five feet in height and in width, whereas it is in fact
over seven feet in height and nearly five in width. He also entirely
overlooks the thick calcarious deposit with which the water has lined the
whole channel acqueduct. But the most curious mistake in the Handbook
on this subject is the statement that the reservoir in which it terminated has
been lately discovered at Nismes, and that is sixteen feet broad and five feet
deep! I shall spare myself the trouble of writing down more about the Pont
du Gard as we have taken away excellent photographs which are better helps to
the memory than any description by words. Soon after crossing the Pont I
began to look about for the great farm house in which I passed a couple
of hours fourteen years ago while our horses were resting, and where I saw
the motherly old dame take out newly baked bread from an oven, be-
-ginning first with a short handled pêle, and with this she took out
some ten or a dozen loaves, then she exchanged it for one with a longer
handle, and some twenty more loaves were drawn out with this which
was again exchanged for another with a still longer handle, and so on
until I began to feel as if I were in some strange dream, or at the least
bewitched. No child was ever more amazed by the tricks of a juggler
than I was to see these hundred loaves of bread taken from the mouth
of an oven that didn't look larger than the old family one at home
which could not have held fifteen. At last I begged the mistress for an
explanation. She bade me look into the oven, and I was astonished
to see what a cavern it was. She then told me that she baked for
all her children even for the married ones who were living in the
neighborhood &c. I have since learned that in the Vaudois valleys
where fuel is very scarce they make their ovens so large as to contain
three hundred loaves at once and many families only bake twice in
the year. It was in this same farm-house near the Pont du Gard that
Miss Paine tempted by a lucious looking basket of olives seized a
large purple berry, and bit it with most pleasing anticipations. Her look of
astonishment at the result of the experiment, and the old woman's laughter
as she stood with her hand on her hip I shall - never forget; but alas even
here fourteen years bring changes. There were many many new houses
and new vineyards, but I saw nothing of the old one, neither could Mr
Marsh, who never forgets a locality, make out our old halting house.
We arrived at Nimes about eleven, and here too had been great
changes. The railway had caused the erection of many new
public
buildings
near it, new houses are everywhere going up, and the town had an air
of life and activity about it very different from its former self. After an
hour's rest we drove to the old Amphitheatre - one of the finest of
Roman remains that I know - then to the beautiful Maison Carrée
and so on, but here I must refer myself again to the excellent pho-
-tographs we obtained of these buildings. Within the Maison Carrée
there are many antique objects of interest, but one thing struck me as
soon as I entered the door and I could scarcely withdraw my eyes from
it - while I remained there. It is a picture of Oliver Cromwell looking
at the corpse of Charles the First. The coffin rests on two chairs,
Cromwell has raised the lid which he supports with his right hand
while his left is on his sword-hilt, as if from habit. His dress is buff
with trunk hoes, and a rather broad brimmed hat with a long bright
red feather stuck carelessly in it, but it is the expression of the face
of this tremendous man that makes the interest of the picture. I
cannot describe it, nor can I ever forget it. - Mr Marsh and Carrie were
not less moved by this picture than myself. This museum is well
kept but it seems to be so not without some pains for at every few
feet one reads: Ne crachez pas, in magnified capitals. It would seem
that all bad habits are not confined to Americans. Among the visitors were
two ladies, each with their suite of gentlemen. One of these ladies was
cross-eyed, and so cross-featured everyway that I wondered at Mr Marsh's
courage when he offered her a lorgnette - a courtesy which she refused
with such a grace as I should have expected. The other would have
been tolerable had she not led about with her a shocking looking
little puppy which was not only hairless, but looked as if it had been flayed.
I sat in the carriage while Mr Marsh and Carrie went into the
Public Garden to see the natural fountain which gushes out of the earth
in such a volume, th and fills
supplies
the whole city with beautiful ornamental
basins, with pools for washing &c. As we drove back to our hotel, I noticed
a large quantity of mammoth onions some of them not less than 5 inches
in diameter. On my exclamation of surprise Giachino said, "O, do
you not know them, madam? They are Spanish onions, & so delicious
baked! I have been begging Alex__ to get some for you ever since
we have been with you, but he could never find any in the Turin
market."
Sunday 18th October
Our inquiries last night having satisfied us that we should
gain nothing by going to Lunel by rail & thence by carriage to
Aigues-mortes, we decided go with our own carriage - not
however without regrets that our limited days forced us to go
on sunday or lose the sight of this curious town probably
forever. The day proved very fine, though the violence of the
wind during the night
previous
had made us almost shrink from the
excursion. For the first 8 miles our road lay almost parallel
with the Montpelier rail-way, and there were many populous
lying on it & near it, the largest perhaps was Codognan. On
the way-stones we observed many names of towns evidently of
the same derivation as Aigues-mortes - such as Aigues-vives
Aigues-margues, Aigouze, etc. the last of these I only made
out by the help of the etymologist I was so fortunate as to
have at my side - Aigues-douces. Seeing the name Uchaud I
ventured to suggest timidly that this might be Eaux-chaudes or
Aigues-chaudes but my oracle made no sign of assent. I did
not press the point, yet my private conviction was that my
etymology was not more forced than the Aigouze from Aigues-
douces! - Soon after we struck off from the rail-road in a
more southerly direction our attention was fixed by the strangest
figures of trees imaginable. We had already at Nimes noticed
the effect of the winds on the trees generally, but here it was
something truly remarkable. The cypress was but seldom in the
least affected and for the most part preserved its majesty & grace
perfectly, but the poplars were sadly blown about and looked
very sorry. The elms however had suffered most of all, and it is
impossible to exaggerate their deformities, contortions & grimaces.
Had they been living organisms with 'limbs & features' they could not
have had a physiognomy more expressive. Sometimes a couple
stood bowing to each other like two hideous dwarfs, sometimes a group
of wretched old crones on the very verge of dissolution seemed
holding a sorrowful gossip over the miseries of their past
stormy lives, then a clump, with heads averted, arms a-kimbo
and hair standing on end, seemed just ready to part in a
frenzy of rage. In fact such ragged, beggarly, drunken-
looking specimens of vegetable life I could not have conceived
of, & I think the [illegible] caricatureist would find it would [worth] his while
to pay a visit to Aigues-mortes - he would bring back treasures.
Some six or eight miles from the old town (which is twenty miles
from Nimes we came upon the marshes, and soon after had much
standing water about us. The air too, plainly indicated the vicinity of the
sea, & was very agreeable and refreshing. At this season there is no dis-
-agreeable effluvium from the marshes, and the danger of fever is past
The towers and walls are visible for at least six miles, but it is only after one has
passed the great gate on the causeway that one really sees the wonder of the
place. We entered through the great gate by the Tour de Constance and
hurried on to our hotel to get fresh horses so that we might make good
use of the three hours necessary for resting our own. The shrill-voiced, fierce
looking dame of a hostess did not seem inclined to give us an answer of peace
when we asked for a carriage, as she evidently thought we should spend
our time better in dining at her house. We compromised by ordering a
breakfast, got a carriage, and drove first round the walls. Their fine construction
and still more wonderful preservation amazed us. We knew it was the best ex-
-isting specimen of a mediæval town, but our expectations were far more than
realized. The walls are about thirty-five feet in height, and twelve in thick-
-ness, the reparations have been very insignificant, and still it is almost as
perfect as on the day when it was finished. Its association with the name
of St Louis must add greatly to its interest in the eyes of every one who has
learned to admire that great and good king who was so many ages in
advance of his own time. There are fifteen gates some of which are closed
up, and the principal remaining one is that by the great tower. This tower
the begun by St Louis himself, and finished by his son Philip the Bold, is
ninety feet in height, without including the lantern which raises it to 125,
and twenty two in thickness of wall. It has been the scene of much tragedy
and in the wars between the Catholics and the Protestants was used by the
former as a prison for the women and children whose husbands and fathers
had been murdered. Protestant women are said to have lived here in
confinement some of them for more than thirty years, but I must not
attempt anything like a description of this strange city now containing some
three or four thousand inhabitants for the most part poor & sickly - Murray on
most points will serve to refresh my memory - After a circuit or two round the
walls we drove by the side of the canal down to the sea. Even a portion of
the old canal is still open. On our right & left & extending far into the
marshes were vast heaps of salt piled up with great regularity of form and
resembling the tents of an encamped army. Some of these were entirely
uncovered, white and glistening in the blazing sunshine, others were closely
thatched. We were told that a crust soon formed over those that were not
protected, so hard as to require the use of steam power to break it, &
that consequently the waste was little. Between these deposits of salt
were small canals every where & we were surprised at the in-
tense azure of the water in these [illegible]
little
shallow channels. I
have never seen a more exquisite blue in the sea
where
[illegible] the depth is
the greatest. There are bathing establishments at Grave - the sea-port
village, but nothing of special interest. Before returning to our hotel
to taste the bread & salt of peace with our landlady we went to see
a most curious old chimney - description attached below - Breakfast
finished, our time was more than up & we were notified that the carriage
was waiting. Alexander's voice
below,
however, proved plainly that something was
going wrong in spite of our heroic efforts to avoid the horrors of war. A
hot dispute was in progress between him & the landlady about her
exorbitant charge for the breakfast. Two items especially enraged
our Moses - 2 1/2 francs for three sardines (spoiled too) & 6 francs
for a bottle of Lunel made but 3 leagues off & which even in Eng-
or America would cost but 5. Alex. told her that he knew the value
of both these articles, that a whole box of sardines containing 20, cost but
30 sous even in Italy where they were imported - that the wine had
not cost her over 10 sous the bottle - that of course he was willing to
pay her a reasonable profit etc etc. but she only lifted her
shrill voice the louder & we had to inf interfere and direct the bill
to be paid, or we might have a scene. Alex__ left her with the
assurance that he would warn every family of travellers against her,
& to Giacchino he declared that his respect for us alone prevented
him from 'taking her by the neck!' We drove out through the old gate
and looked back upon the dream-like town with a sigh that we should never
look upon it or its like again. Nothing could be finer than the afternoon - as
still as if we had not been in windy Provence, for we have not yet been in
this region long enough to sympathize with the old woman at Villeneuve lès
Avignon who told
said to
Carrie as the latter threw herself on the ground and
held down her skirts in desperation: - "Quel vent délicieux! - ça donne
de la vie!' We were scarcely outside the wall when we found ourselves
surrounded by swarms of dragon-flies. We have noticed more or less ever
since we came into Provence, - but here at Aignes Mortes they filled
the air like locusts, and the telegraph wires were covered by them for
miles. Our drive back to Nimes was as pleasant as possible. We met everywhere
groups of peasants, the girls in their pretty neat caps with bright flowers in
the borders, the young men always walking by themselves and just in front
of the girls. We had however one regret at our hearts - the not having time to
devote one day to a visit to the Camargue, and to have witnessed a
real ferrade on the very soil to which it owes it origin. Our car-
-riage whirled by the amphitheatre, darker and more shadowy in
the moon-light, and we reached our hotel about seven.
Monday 19th Oct.
Mr Marsh and Carrie made an early visit to the am-
-phitheatre and the Maison Carrée, and at nine we were on our way to
Arles. The country between the two towns is not interesting; - a fine view of
Nimes and the adjacent villages from a hill some five miles from the former
place being the only thing that much struck us.* Arles is much less changed
than Nimes since our former visit. The same old bridge of boats leads to it,
the same narrow crooked streets, the same ups and downs and the same
horrible pavement as when we were here before. They were expecting us
at the Hôtel du Nord, having been telegraphed by our landlord of Nimes.
While waiting here for a carriage to visit the amphitheatre &c Mr Marsh &
I stepped across the street into an old curiosity-shop. The chief treasures
here consisted of old battered china, now infinitely precious to connoisseurs
but valueless to us from our ignorance. There were some interesting Roman
antiques not easily transportable, a little piece of carved ebony which I
greatly coveted, but which cost too much, some quaint old combs with glass
ornaments, but we resisted temptation, and made our peace with the two
very obliging provençal girls by bying buying a number of photographs.
Only in one respect has Provence, so bepraised, so besung, answered to
my dreams - the beauty of the women and children. The amphitheatre
gave us more pleasure today than that of Nimes two days ago - not
that it was quite equal to it, but we were not annoyed by the
plague of wind, and saw everything quietly and at our leisure. Again
I must refer elsewhere for description. The Museum contains some inte-
-resting Roman remains, in the way of sculpture, such as a very lovely
female head supposed to be a portrait bust of the Empress Livia. It's
unfortunately greatly injured by the fracture of the nose, but by covering
this fracture it is easy to see how very beautiful the whole must have
been. Some old Roman lead pipes interested Mr Marsh a good deal.
From the Museum we went to the St Trophime, an interesting old
church which our photograph will keep fresh in our minds. But no
photograph could do justice to a little scene I witnessed in the Church - if it
could I would spare no effort to get one for some of my friends who so
much admire the solemnity of Roman Catholic devotion. Two respectably dressed
women entered the church soon after we did. They were talking and
laughing merrily though not loudly, and did not for a moment suspend
their party not even while crossing themselves and making the genuflexion
before the alter. When they reached the seats with the kneeling benches they
separated, and one kneeling at the first place, the other going two or three
seats nearer the altar. The former commenced saying her prayers with
a broad smile still on her face, and her eyes fixed full upon us. In
a few seconds a third woman came in - a gossip of the last mentioned,
for she went directly to her, shook her familiarly by the shoulder, said
a few words to her in a very lively manner, then picked from her
neck a small dark coloured specimen of natural history, rolled it
between her fingers, both the actors giggling in the meantime. The
last-comer then went a little forward and knelt down, but the
friend
to whom
she had shown this little service had now finished her de-
-votions, rose and went to her house justified! One of our servants -
rather an emancipated Catholic - assisted at this scene as well as our-
selves, and exclaimed very emphatically throwing up his hand - "Dio
mio! Dio mio!" Leaving the church we went into the cloisters
which we found very interesting. It is impossible to conceive how
an age capable of producing such arches and such columns could be
guilty of such monstrosities in the way of sculpture. There was
the baptism of our Saviour by John the Baptist which, while it
shocked could not fail to make the most serious person laugh.
The figure of the Saviour I will not attempt to describe - but the St
John wore a slouched hat, with a shaggy sheep-skin Over
over
his
shoulders, and coming down to the ankle. His legs bore about
the same proportion to his body as those of a duck, and the
whole action was comic beyond words. I was assured by Mr Marsh
and Carrie that there were still funnier things to be seen - such as the
three kings all lying in the same bed, and waked by an angel
with a candle in his hand who tells them where to find the new
born king of the Jews - the entrance into Jerusalem - the temptation
&c &c, but I had seen enough of the details, and contented myself
with the general effect which was really very fine. From the church
we drove, passing the old theatre, to the old cemetery of Arles -
still called Aliscamps (Elisii Campi) the name by which it was
known 1800 years ago. Dante mentions it in the Inferno IX, 112, also
Ariosto alludes to it. Even in pagan times they buried here, and after-
-wards another portion of the ground was used by Christians for the same
purpose. Hundreds and hundreds of stone sarcophagi lie scattered
by the roadside - and acres about the old chapels are filled with them.
The chapel of St Honorat has a very beautiful octagonal tower which
a young artist sat in the churchyard sketching. We looked for
photographs of this tower afterwards, but, though we found several
taken from different points, none of them gave anything like a true
idea of the object itself. This is the first time I have seen the pho-
-tograph fail in giving a faithful idea of anything merely architectural.
In the vault of the old chapel were several sarcophagi from which
interesting inscriptions had been taken and removed to the Museum.
Among these was [illegible] one in which lay a skeleton, and a copy of
the inscription found on it was left with it. I had not time to
copy it as I wished for it was very touching. The substance was
that the occupant was a young girl, (Aelia of the House of Aelia), 17
years old, that she was about to be married when cruel Death snatched
her from the arms of her mother who now congratulated the father that
it was not his lot to feel this bitter sorrow, and that he had prece-
-ded the daughter whose society he could now enjoy. I suppose this
sarcophagus to have been found in the christian part of the cemetery
from the very distinct reference to another life, but there was nothing
else to show this. Tuesday 20th
Last night we were condoling with eachother on the nec-
essity of leaving Arles without visiting Les Baux which Murray makes
so tempting, and the old Abbey of Montmajeur, when a sudden
inspiration came upon one of us and it was proposed to set off in
a little carriage for Les Baux at an early hour this morning, explore
its ruins, take a look at the Abbey on our way back, then
drive at once to the railway-station and join our own carriage
which in the mean time was to make its way with the servants
& baggage to Aix. We also hoped to reached Aix in time to take another
carriage and get a sight of the new acqueduct of Roquefavour
before dark. To carry out this brilliant programme we rose at
five this morning & set off on our escapade fasting. The road was
badly cut up by teams from the quarries hundreds of which we
met, and as we bribed our man of the whip to make good speed
we were wofully shaken up by the time
we reached the foot of the
the limestone ridge
crowned by fragments of the old walls & towers of Les Baux, We
zigzaged slowly up the steep hill and found ourselves in the midst
of a scene the like of which I had not thought could be found
this side of Idumean Petra. In every respect it is certainly
vastly inferior to the ancient City of the Rock - the excavations are
are comparatively nothing, the extent of the ruins insignificant, but
there is something to reall recall almost every feature of the former.
Every where advantage had been taken of the rock to save the labour
of the mason - now it seems to form a portion of a wall, now a chamber
now a whole habitation. Even the same pigeonhole like excavations
which have so much puzzled the antiquaries at Petra are here.
And there is the same general air of desolation though less in degree.
Had the white glaring rock been stained with those brilliant colors
which make crumbling Petra as mournfully gay as a New Eng.
autumn I could have fancied myself once more in some
humble corner of that 'place of tombs.' We found however that
nothing could be more mistaken than the idea we had taken from
Murray. It is not less interesting than he makes it, but not in the
least in the same way. For details, historic and other, of Les Baux see
pamphlet found there written by Canonge. Old monument of kneeling
knight in the church - date 14th century - inscription partly read backwards.
Our coachman told us we might get a cup of
coffee from a kind woman inhabiting one of the few houses still occupied. There
was a nominal café, but we had met the host of the establishment on
our way up the hill, as he was en route for Arles. But he comforted us
by telling us where to find the key to his premises. An old servant woman
opened for us, and I sat down while Mr Marsh and Carrie went out to make
discoveries. The old woman asked me several times if I would not like to
go and see the peace, and it was not till she had repeated the question
many times that I understood the peace meant pays. In the meantime
the young woman who was to make the coffee came in and offered to
take us to another house where we should see some old pictures - and
the invitation was accepted as soon as Mr M. & C. returned. We were taken
up a ruinous stair-case and into an unswept bedroom containing
an unmade bed - to the latter I must do the justice to say that the linen
was snowy white, the blankets unspotted - and here the walls were
covered with old engravings and quaint old oil pictures. Among the
former were some that would have greatly excited the cupidity of
my husband in his collecting days, but the one that amused me most
was a view of the city of Lyons, of I can't say what date, but of
the most primitive style of perspective. The oil pictures had evidently
been sifted & resifted by visitors, but there was a Madonna & child of
the Byzantine school that I should have liked, though by no
means for its beauty. A second bed-room, with bed like the first
was then shown us - the pictures were of the same general character
but one of the frames was ornamented at each of the four corners
with a large leaf - as beautiful specimen of old wood carving -
At first I was bent on securing these at any rate, but prudence
whispered a word in my ear - reminded me of the dimensions
of our purse, the expense of transportation, the fact that we
neither had nor were ever likely to have a home in which to
display & enjoy them, that they were not objects likely to be much
prized by friends as gifts - & I resisted temptation. Coffee was
now served to us in small goblets, and proved very refreshing.
Mr M. & C. went out on another ramble, and the woman
who was acting as hostess placed a chair for me outside the
door & we were soon exchanging confidences. Her little Mad-
delena, a beautiful child of two & a half years, was sent to the
infant school - even here they had this blessing to poor mothers - and
the baby of 6 weeks was brought from his cradle to be admired.
Then the young mother told me that five weeks after her
marriage her husband, a stone-cutter, had his arm and leg broken,
that for six months he was confined to his bed, that then on a fête day
the Dr allowed him to get up, and move about the room with
the help of crutches, but in doing so he slipped, fell and rebroke
the leg, and this was followed by another six months' confinement.
'Oh, que j'ai pleuré au coin de cette cheminée là, mais c'est le
bon Dieu qui ordonne tout, Maintenant, grâce à Lui mon
mari se trouve bien, et quoique nous soyons pauvres nous avons
l'espérance d'une autre view- sans cela il me semble ni riches ni
pauvres pourraient supporter les malheurs de ce monde-ci." I
could have talked with her with pleasure much longer, but we
had no more time - "Conservez-vous bien, chère Madame," said the
kind creature as I entered the carriage, and with a no less
cordial adieu for the rest she turned towards her own door
clasping her little son tightly in her arms. We drove rapidly back
to the Abbey, hurried up the concierge who was eating his dinner, and
went first to the cloisters. Something still remains of their former beauty,
but most of the columns have been carried off - sold says our guide by
the "bande noire" during the French revolution. Several members of the
House of Anjou were laid to rest here, and among them the famous
Marguerite, Queen of England who never knew rest till she was brought
to the cloisters
here. From the cloisters we passes into the church - very grand and
lofty in its proportions, - one of the chapels was that of Blanche of
Castile, stripped of every ornament except its beautifully ribbed arches.
The crypt is large, but its only interest to me was its antiquity. The guide
then proposed to take us to an old subterranean church, the work
of Childebert for St Trophime in the 6th century - also to an old
mortuary chapel, dedicated by Pons de Marignan, Bishop of Arles,
in 1019 - but I was too tired to go further, and sat down in the room of
the concierge while the others followed the guide. I amused my-
-self during their absence by examining the odd pictures on the
walls, the mutilated plasters, a ewer and basin of old china that
would have been priceless in the eyes of a real china-hunter - and
the library which contained the works of Plato, of Racine, Shakespeare
&c and which I infer did not belong to the concierge. I had a visit
too. An old woman of whom Mr Marsh had enquired where he
should find the concierge, came to ask me the time of day!
Having satisfied herself on this point she proceded to more personal
questions - 'Est ce que Madame et Monsieur sont Anglais?" - and to
my reply in the negative she said - "Ah, c'est ce que j'ai pensé!
Quand Monsieur m'a parlé j'ai dit à moi-même - ça n'est
pas un milord Anglais, il parle trop bien le françois" She was
candid enough however to admit that she should have known by
his accent that he was not from her own Department. - Mr M & C.
now returned, told me what they had seen - the forged inscription
forged by the monks, declaring declaring [sic] the chapel to have
been built by Charles Martel in commemoration of his victory
over the Saracens etc and then we dashed off for the
station. Our wide awake coachman delivered us there in
ample time, received his buono mano, and we were left to shift
for ourselves - a thing Alex__ has almost made us incapable
of. Scarcely were we seated in front of the ticket-office when husband
exclaimed "there goes my package of photographs!" I looked up
but was only in time to catch a glimpse of something that might
or might not have been a portfolio half concealed under a man's
arm, the carrier hurrying past to the general luggage-room. I
insisted that A. & G. could not have left it behind, as it was laid on
the boxes, but Mr Marsh was absolute as to its identity and
went off in pursuit. On his way he met the Commissionaire
of our the Hotel where we had spent the night; who explained that
the portfolio had been left behind & moreover Alex. had told him to
say that he had forgotten to pay the carriage bill and that he
begged him to do it. Here was a mystery. A. had been directed to
pay the bill in the presence of the coachman, & if he had forgotten
it for a moment why did he not pay it afterwards instead of sending
a message to Mr Marsh by the very man to whom he should have
given the money. After a moment's reflection Mr M. paid the bill, but with
many doubts - then came the confusion about the tickets etc, and on the
whole we voted the rail-road a worse bore than ever. To crown our
discontent we found we could not go directly to Aix but must wait two hours
at Rognac - which would just deprive us of the chance of arriving in
time to drive out to Roquefavour. All these things, taken fasting, would,
I fear, have proved too much for our philosophy, had not a boy from
the buffet come and offered us refreshments - We accepted eagerly, &
the effect of [illegible] buns [illegible], grapes & lemonade was magical. We
recollected that we might perhaps find a carriage at Rognac
which would take us to Roquefavour and Aix as well, and we got
into the railway carriage comforted. Soon after leaving Arles the rail
way strikes upon the Crau, an immense tract of desert as bare as that of Arabia, and
yet the only difference between the soil here and that of the Bouches du Rhône
generally is scarcely perceptible to the eye. Both alike seem to be a mass of
pebbles with the smallest proportion of earth intermixed. In the Crau how-
-ever this mixture of pebbles and earth is consolidated together into a mass
almost as hard as solid rock, and there being no ready means of irri-
-gating it, it has been found impossible thus far so to break it up as to make
it in any way capable of cultivation. Along the track of the railroad through
the maritime pine has been planted and looks thriving. Leaving this desolate
tract the road strikes some pretty ponds, and Rognac itself is situated on the
banks of the largest. On arriving here we had to remove all hopes of a
carriage and wait out our two hours patiently. But we were well rewarded,
for the railway not only took us directly to Roquefavour, but the train stop-
-ped some minutes in full view of it, and a magnificent view it was,
not inferior in my opinion to the world-renouned Pont du Gard itself.
The photograph we have of it will be a good remembrancer, but by no means
does it justice. Arrived at Aix we were astonished to find no ser-
-vants to meet us, and hackmen and all others enquired of declared
Murray's Hôtel du Palais Royal to be a myth; And yet we had sent
our servants there. While Mr Marsh was taking counsel of an Aixer I
entered into a negotiation negociation with an omnibus conducter, who assured
me that the hotel he represented was the one to which all travellers with
servants always came - that he would take us there and if we did not
find our carriage he would drive us to either or all of the other hotels.
This proposal was accepted, and sure enough Borgo and Alick and
Giacchino were all at the Hôtel des Princes. A. and G. had just re-
-turned from the station where they had been told that no one could
come from Arles till half past seven. They both looked forlorn enough
at first sight, but when they [illegible] saw that we were not angry and
that we had the photographs their faces brightened. All the mistakes
had grown out of the fact that no one was up at the Hotel at the
hour they wished to start, and Borgo was already storming when the
bill, hurriedly made out, was given to Alex., and the charge for carriage
left out. A. had met the commissionaire a mile from the Hotel and as
he had found the mistake on looking over the bill but did not know
precisely what the charge for the carriage for the day before would be he
had sent the message to Mr Marsh. All was right at last, but we shall
have less confidence in future schemes of dividing our party.
Wednesday 21st
We had little time for doing Aix as we were obliged to leave
at eight, but Mr M. & C. went out as early as they could see - I contenting
myself with looking the fountain which is adorned with a statue of
the good Réné by David. The fountain altogether is very fine - even grandiose -
[illegible] not from the quantity of water which seemed to me insufficient,
but from the size of the basins & the great amount of sculpture - the huge
lions etc. I was told there were two more fountains scarcely inferior
to this but did not see them. The explorers returned with a history of what
they had seen in the cathedral - the building itself, its pictures, the portrait
of king Rénè & his second queen etc. but they had not time to go the library.
This I should have liked to see myself chiefly for the manuscript letters of
Mary Stuart for whom even Michelet cannot [illegible] cure me of my
sympathy. But we were obliged for the second time to leave this once
gayest of capitals, with all its romantic associations of tournaments
& troubadours, after a most hasty survey. It contains now about
25000 inhabitants, the recent streets & buildings are fine but the
'old town' is, like all these old medieval dens, vile. It dates back to [illegible]
one hundred years before the Christian era - a Roman colony sent
to aid in defending the Phocæans settled at Marseilles. The mineral
springs for which it has been famous from its beginning have undergone
curious ebbs & flows interesting to students of such matters. I cannot
say that we found the route particularly interesting between Aix and St Maximin,
our mid-day halting place. The steep lofty lime-stone cliffs of Mont St Victoire
on our left were striking, and had the attraction of being connected with the
name of Marius and his bloody victory over the Cimbri. Murray tells us
that the miserable town of Pourrières derives its name from Campi putridi
applied to this dreadful battle-field. At St Maximin Mr Marsh was struck
with the grand proportions of its church begun in the 13th, but finished in the
15th cent'y. The height of the nave is astonishing and the clustered
columns without ornament pleased him very much. A few old gargoyles
remain which seem to belong to the earliest days of the church, and Mr
M. and C. were much amused by the effect produced on one of these
which represented a fox by
from
the growth of some shrubbery in place of
the mutilated tail of the animal. To be sure the tail was now a
little too spreading, but it had so completely the air of being a part of
the original design that it was quite deceptive. Another non-
-descript animal was finished off in a very similar way / In the
town, as in all the villages we have passed this time in Provence,
several wine-presses were standing, and Mr M. in his zeal for knowledge
went to the men who were working them, entered into conversation with
them and stood by while the pressing went on. He was told that the
presses were brought into town on wheels from which they were after-
-wards removed. The grapes being first trodden very lightly are piled
up, on the platform under the screw, in a cylindrical form, about
three feet high and two in diameter, and then bound together by
a flat straw-rope. The press is then applied by hand, afterwards by
lever for about five minutes. The quantity of juice obtained is very
variable, but in the case Mr M. saw today it was about 20 gallons.
The grapes were then taken from the press, stirred with the hand,
replaced and re-pressed, and five gallons more of juice was
extracted. The wine-makers said that they dried the refuse and
pressed it into cakes used afterwards as dressing for wheat and
other crops but not applied to the vine. Of course the
mode of
making
wine is very various in various countries, but this seems to be the most
common in Provence. Among the little peculiarities in the way
of church architecture noticed today were belfries which consisted of a
mere rude iron frame-work. But there was so little to divert us
that we were driven to laugh at the poor cantonierè who were
mending the roads by spreading on the broken stone used for
Macadamizing quantities of sand which they afterwards watered
with a common garden watering-pot. We also noticed certain
sheep even more gay than those we had seen near Orange.
These last were adorned with odd-looking bunches or humps which at
first glance I took to be some natural deformity, but a closer in-
-spection showed that at shearing-time the shepherds had left here
and there a patch of the old fleece unshorn, and now that the
new growth was well advanced the effect was very odd - beau-
-tiful no doubt in the eyes of the shepherds. But here these excres-
cences were more numerous, sometimes three or four and on the same
animal, and some were painted. Others had tufts of wool, died the
brightest scarlet, tied skilfully into the ugly humps. How much of
the child one sees among these poor classes in Europe whose intellects
are fed only on milk or poison from the cradle to the grave.
While we were laughing at the 'country folks' Mr Marsh told us of
an advertisement he saw in Aix this morning of some theatrical performance,
which announced that "la
sèance
s'ouvrira par 'un coup de foudre qui
allumera deux cents bougies!" - and we had not recovered
from our merriment when we drove into Brignolles [Brignoles].
Thursday Oct 22