Continuing our journey, we passed hundreds—I may almost say, thousands—of a species of cactus along by the road-side, ranging in size from that of a soup plate to great pointed blades eight feet in height. Upon one side of the road, a complete fence or barrier of these plants was made, of nearly a mile in length; and a very effective guard it was, with its tough, broad leaves ranged close together, with their aggressive and thorny blades.
But however pleasant post-riding on the continent, over one of the mountain roads may be, twelve or fifteen hours of it a day become fatiguing, and we were not sorry when our carriage rolled into the streets of Genoa at nine P. M., and, after twisting round through a dozen or more crooked streets, landed us at the Hotel Feder. "La Superba," and "City of Palaces," are the ostentatious titles that the Genoese have applied to this place; but one hardly gets an idea of anything very "superb" down in the old part of the city, where the hotels are situated, for here the streets are narrow—narrow as lanes, in fact, and not over-clean. The hotel Croce di Malta is one directly fronting the shipping and harbor, and from its great massive turrets we get a fine view of the latter. This hotel, a huge, castle-like building, was, in fact, a stronghold of the Knights of Malta, and from its battlements they looked forth watchfully upon the sea. Upon this front street, like those fronting the wharves in our great cities, seem to be the most vehicles. But as we recede into the narrower streets of the old town, vehicles are few in number, and pedestrians, loungers, and lazzaroni abundant. Our hotel is a stately building, on an alley that widens into a square, from which runs a narrow street lined with jewelry and fancy goods stores, in which the elegant silver filigree work, which is a specialty of Genoa, is displayed. This filigree is composed of fine wires of silver, elegantly wrought and twisted into the shape of wreaths, flowers, butterflies, and various artistic and fanciful figures, and is all sold by weight. Although originally of pure white, delicate, frosty-looking silver, it is also often electro-plated with gold.
Let not the unsophisticated reader imagine, either, when we speak of a fancy goods or jewelry store in the old city of Genoa, a spacious, well-lighted establishment, with great plate-glass windows, and a forty or a one hundred feet frontage. Imagine, rather, a little, one-windowed, narrow, deep, dark store, in a crowded street, the whole frontage of the store door and window not exceeding fifteen or eighteen feet, and you have it. The buildings on these little, narrow streets, though, are of the most massive character, seemingly built, as in warm countries, of solid masonry, to keep out the heat, and are, many of them, of great height, while the narrow streets are most effectually shaded by them from the sun. There are but very few vehicles that pass beneath our windows, or into the square; but the patter of feet, and the clatter of voices in the evening, are great.
Genoa must look beautifully from the sea, as it is built upon a height rising gradually some five hundred feet out from the shore; and, as we get out from the tortuous and narrow lanes of the old city, the squares and streets assume a less antique and cramped appearance. There are three great streets, the principal of which is the Strada Nuova, which is filled with lofty and elegant buildings, streets of palaces, many of them with unpretending exteriors, but with rich linings. One contains the most extensive collection of engravings in Italy—nearly sixty thousand; another is rich in paintings; a third in autograph letters, and relics of the great navigator, Christopher Columbus, who, your guide will be sure to inform you, "deescoovare Amereeke."
In one of the squares we saw the elegant marble monument erected to him—a circular shaft, bearing his full-length statue resting his hand upon a kneeling figure, while about the base of the column were four other allegorical statues, and beautiful bass-reliefs upon the four panels.
The visitor may have his feast of relics in the cathedral and the Church of St. Ambrogio, if he desires; but, after getting round upon the "grand tour" as far as this, he will probably find that he has seen fragments enough of the true cross to have made half a dozen of them, nails enough to have filled a keg, and bones enough of certain named saints to have set up two or three entire skeletons of the same individual.
One of the most delightful places to visit in the vicinity of Genoa is the Pallavicini Gardens, a few miles out. These gardens, though not remarkably extensive, are laid out in the most ingenious, beautiful, and expensive manner. Arriving at the villa, you ascend a flight of stairs in the house, and step out upon a broad and magnificent terrace of white marble, from which there is one of the most charming views imaginable of Genoa below, the blue sea beyond, and, far in the distance the peaks of Corsican mountains. Directly below this terrace are others, decorated with vases and broad flights of white marble steps and balusters, and upon these terraces are grand parterres of flowers, and tall orange and lemon trees growing, elegant camellias of every hue, roses, great rhododendrons, and beautiful azaleas.
Walking through an avenue of flowers and shrubbery from here, you come to an exquisite little Grecian temple in white marble, beautifully frescoed. Then you pass through another walk, arranged in Italian style, with beautiful vases and rare shrubs. Another turning, and you come to a pretty rustic cottage with all the surroundings so contrived as to make a charming natural picture. You ascend a height, and encounter a picturesque ruined tower (artificial), and from the height enjoy charming views in every direction. You descend the hill, and come to a miniature cavern of stalactites, through which the guide conducts you. It is filled with natural wonders—crystallizations and beautiful petrifactions, brought at immense expense from every part of Italy, and so arranged as to make an apparently natural formation—a natural grotto, gorgeous in the extreme. In the dark recesses of this cavern you reach a river, an ornamental boat approaches, and you are rowed silently through great arches of gloomy caverns, winding hither and thither, apparently into the innermost bowels of the earth, until you begin to fear the guide may have lost his way, when suddenly the boat shoots forth upon the bosom of a charming little lake, surrounded by objects of interest and beauty on every side.
The first object that attracts the attention is an artificial island in the centre of the lake, upon which is a beautifully-sculptured, miniature Temple of Diana, containing a statue of the goddess. Then you come to several small islands, connected by means of Chinese bridges, with all the surroundings Chinese. A Chinese pagoda, with its gay sides and bell-tipped peaks, rises near at hand. Chinese lanterns are suspended, and a bamboo and tiled Chinese house, seen through Oriental shrubbery, transports you in imagination, without much effort, to the land of the Celestials.
At other points in these wonderful gardens are similar artificial effects. One portion is planned to represent Egyptian ruins. A needle-like obelisk, covered with hieroglyphics, rises upon a sandy shore, and shattered columns, friezes, and sculptures are strewn on the ground. Some rest in the water, and the lotus flower near by, with a solemn, ibis-looking bird or two standing about, completes the illusion. There were little wildernesses of charming walks amid beautiful, ornamental gardening, where the senses were charmed with flowers of every hue and perfume, where aromatic and curious shrubs challenged the attention, and made the air as fragrant as a land breeze off the Spice Islands.