Each city has its objects of interest. Padua boasts of the villa of Petrarch in the vicinity; its stupendous church of the patron saint Antonio; its University with fifteen hundred students, bearing upon its walls the antique armorial insignia of the many noble youths educated there; its library, its anatomical collection, and fifty-five thousand inhabitants.
Verona, rather more populous, has its attractions; its old amphitheatre, in the same style as the Coliseum at Rome, one thousand four hundred and seventy feet in circumference, with forty-five rows of seats, and with places for twenty-five thousand persons, is in remarkable preservation; in the arena is now erected a Teatro Diurno. These day-theatres are without roofs; the performance commences at six P.M., and is generally frequented. The tomb of Juliet, in an old convent, is only of interest for the romantic story of herself and of her lover Romeo. The house of the Capulets also exists. The position of Verona, divided by the river Etsch, with its high hills strongly fortified by the Austrians, is almost impregnable withal, and picturesque; it has become, with its garrison, a second Mantua.
Vicenza, a smaller city of thirty-five thousand population, has its antique public square, government house, palace of justice, with arcades worth looking in upon, and a fine view from the summit of a hill in the suburbs. A covered gallery some two thousand feet in length leads the pilgrim to the convent of the Madonna of the Mountain. An antique Olympic theatre in the city attracts strangers. From the benches of the amphitheatre I was struck with a singular perspective receding from the stage of a miniature city of Greekish architecture, representing streets, houses, and professions. While examining the old structure of wood, decorated with ornamental figures, I made some comparisons which were responded to by my conductress, a beautiful girl of light complexion and golden locks. Upon questioning the girl, I found that she spoke English, although of Italian birth; every city and province has its peculiar tongue, and only the educated speak Italian. It is in Tuscany alone where the language is spoken in its purity. I have been in dining rooms where there were several groups at the tables speaking Neapolitan, Genoese, Milanese, and other dialects, without understanding each other, yet all were Italians. One can well conceive the difficulty of regenerating a people where such objections to unity are met with, and where local prejudices are so strong. One fine morning in Milan, twenty-one guns announced to us the telegraphic news from Vienna of the birth of a princess to the House of Austria. Notwithstanding the disappointment (a prince had been hoped for), great preparations having been made at the Duomo for the celebration, it came off in this world-wide renowned edifice with the usual pomp and ceremony of church, civil, and military parade.
The Corso Francesco in Milan has many elegant cafés, which were quite desolate for two or three days, in consequence of the seizure of foreign journals giving the debates in England upon Italian affairs. The old papers were read and re-read, and almost worn through; the evident disgust and under-toned denunciation of the powers that be could not pass unobserved.
CXVII.
Zurich, Aug. 16, 1856.
Leaving the beautiful lake of Como, with its lovely villas, cultivated gardens, vineyards, and picturesque views, I started for Switzerland, via the lake of Lugano.
The Austrian frontier of Lombardy is soon reached, and one finds himself in the Canton of Ticino. Upon crossing the bridge of Chiaso into Swiss territory, one soon discovers the effect of free government and liberal principles in the public schoolhouses, in the culture and manufacture of tobacco, in the relief from annoyances of passports and examination of luggage. A quarter of a mile from there, tobacco is a monopoly, and its growth is prohibited; here it is produced in considerable quantities, and manufactured for exportation.
The town of Lugano, prettily situated upon the borders of the lake, surrounded by romantic scenery, is considerably frequented, and foreign journals may be read there without the intermeddling of the censor-police.
On the opposite side of the lake is the village of Castigleone, in Austrian territory, at the foot of a steep mountain; it is accessible only by land, over the Swiss high-road. Here the people enjoy comparative freedom, and are exempt from military proscription; but in these mountainous regions of Switzerland many women are afflicted with huge swellings of the neck, which are frightful to behold, and are attributed to the water of the country.