Hewson shortly returned, and his countenance soon dissipated all our apprehensions, for his joy was so excessive that in vain did he endeavour to put on dismal looks in order to worry us. With an assumed air of sorrow, he told us that he much feared we were to be sent back to France. But we were not so ignorant of physiognomy that we could not perceive that he was almost bursting with some happy intelligence. At last he congratulated us that we were at length free men—our liberty was secured as firmly as if we had taken “a bond from Fate.” In fact, the Director had received a despatch from Vienna, in which the Austrian Government had acknowledged us as English subjects and officers, and in which they had directed him to give us passports to proceed wherever we pleased; and the Director added that we were now at liberty, and that we might quit the town that day if we wished. Good and gracious God! what intelligence to people who have been nearly five years in severe and bitter slavery! We sprang out of bed, fell on our knees, and, with hearts full of gratitude to our Great Creator for His unbounded mercies and goodness, we greeted each other as free people.
We instantly agreed to wait upon our worthy friend, the Director, and evince to him how grateful we were for his attention and kindness. He received us in the most handsome manner, and appeared as much elated as if he had been in our situation. He wished to know how we meant to travel to Trieste? We answered, on foot, as our finances were low; though we dreaded the doctor’s incapacity, his last fever having been so severe that he had been bled and blistered several times; but he was now somewhat better, though weak.
Our passport for Trieste was, during this time, making out, and in half an hour we were to return for it. In the meantime we went back to the tavern to make the necessary preparations, and get some breakfast. It was a luxurious meal. The moment we entered, the landlord presented us with an answer to Mr. Hewson’s letter, from his friend at Vienna. It informed us of the success that had attended our application at that city, with respect to our passports, and contained an order on his banker at Salzburg, to supply us with what money we might deem necessary to defray our expenses to Trieste, and enable us to travel with ease and comfort. Providence appeared too bountiful. We waited on the banker, got the sum necessary, and called on the worthy Director to give him the intelligence. He appeared much pleased, congratulated us on our success, and ordered our passports to be made out to go by the diligence. This proved very fortunate for our sick companion.
The hour of departure arrived; and now behold us in the diligence, free from all terrors, and elated to the highest pitch at the consciousness that we were on the road to the margin of the sea, where we should once more behold “The meteor flag of England,” and have it again waving over our heads.
Our journey was interesting. The first night we had to pass through intricate roads amidst immense mountains covered with snow. The appearance of the inhabitants was in unison with the scenery. They were grotesque in dress, and seemed wild. The guard of the diligence was inclined to be insolent, and evidently abetted the innkeepers in their “tricks upon travellers”—tricks of extortion. However, at the fourth stage we got rid of this bad specimen of Nature’s workmanship, for we were removed from the diligence, and put into a waggon, which took us to Villach, and thence to Clagenfurt. The waggon was without springs, and, over the rough mountainous roads, we were jolted almost to death. Our sick friend must have suffered dreadfully; but he bore his pains with his usual fortitude and self-command.
In the waggon we were eight in number; our companions were boys who were returning to the university after the vacation. They annoyed us much with their colloquial or dog Latin; and the young rogues made us the subject of their jokes and satire, on the supposition that we could not understand them.
At Clagenfurt we found that we had missed our road to Trieste by several leagues, owing to those who had inspected our passports at Villach not having given us the necessary information. At first we were informed that we must go back to that town to have the error rectified; but, upon explaining the difficulties and hardships that attended retracing our steps, the authorities very kindly did away with every difficulty, and we retired to the Golden Sun tavern, where we had supper and beds.
We were here apprised that we had better perform the next day’s journey on foot, as the mountains were so excessively high that if we had a carriage we should be obliged to walk the greater part of the way. This information made us determine to proceed on foot the next morning; and we accordingly rose at daybreak (Sunday, 30th October), and commenced our journey. Such mountains as we passed this day I never before beheld. We walked twelve leagues before seven in the afternoon, six of them almost ascending perpendicularly, and the remaining six descending in the opposite direction—the great road was zig-zag, but we did not keep to it. We at last arrived at a small post-town, at the foot of a prodigious precipice. After getting some refreshments, we took post for Laibach, and travelled all night. At daybreak we entered the town, and immediately proceeded to a tavern where we got beds, and retired for a few hours to rest. Our passport was taken to the Director of Police to be inspected. At about nine he sent for us, asked us a few questions, and returned our passport properly endorsed and certified.
On the 31st of October, at ten, we took post for Trieste, and arrived on the 4th of November, at about eight o’clock, after a most tedious, harassing, and vexatious journey. The reader who traces the distance on the map or the itinéraire, and calculates the time of our going over the ground, will understand the vast difference, even at that time, between English travelling, and travelling on the Continent.
On the night after quitting Laibach we had a very high and precipitous mountain to ascend; and our horses being of the most sorry breed of cattle, I dismounted, and took a short cut up the mountain. At eleven at night I saw an immense bonfire at a distance from the road I was on. A number of people were collected round it. Not a house was in view; the carriage was at least four miles below me; and as the road was a perfect zig-zag, the wild character of the mountain scenery made me hesitate to approach the spot. At last I got so near that I was discovered, and two men ran towards me. I had no right to expect courtesy, or decency, or even safety, in such a wilderness, and the fellows rudely asked me in German who and what I was. In broken German I told them that I did not understand what they said, and I asked if they spoke French. They answered “No.” The whole scene was so awfully wild that it was worthy of the pencil of Salvator Rosa; and even his pencil could not have done justice to it. “Do you speak Italian?” said I, and a fierce “No” was my only satisfaction. At last I ejaculated, “Do you speak English?” and, to my utter astonishment, both vociferated the English “Yes,” with the addition “perfectly well.” I was thunderstruck at the reply; for who would have expected to find the English language on a bleak and barren mountain in this part of the world? I found that one of the men was a native Irishman, and that the other was a German that had been long in the British service. Our countryman, Paddy,—for my companions were also Irish,—informed me, with a revival of the brogue, which he had forgotten, or flattered himself that he had forgotten for many years, that the mountains were so infested with banditti, that he and his party were posted there to arrest depredators and protect travellers. I must confess that I thought that these robber-catchers had taken a rather odd method of pursuing their vocation; as their huge bonfire exposed their watch-station, and consequently enabled the banditti to avoid them, and perpetrate their crimes with impunity. Perhaps the Hibernian had engrafted on the Germans the genius (generally considered indigenous) of his country for such sort of mistakes. At length the carriage came up, and, jumping into it, I bade a long adieu to such strange mountaineer policemen, after giving them a trifle that we could but badly afford.