The ascent is by steam or water power. From the bottom, seven hundred and fifty feet, a perpendicular square shaft communicates with all the galleries, for hoisting the ore. One puts himself in a square box, of solid wood construction, with a board seat, supported by four chains from the corners, attached to a rope cable, and trusts to its strength and the movement of the water wheel to see daylight once again. The reflection is anything but agreeable; for should an accident occur, not a vestige of frail humanity would remain. The ascent on foot is too fatiguing, although many persons prefer it.
The smelting furnaces here are on a large scale, as also the manufacture of red vermilion from quicksilver and sulphur combined, under the action of great heat. It is a singular fact that those employed in these works not only lose their teeth early in life, through the salivation of the mercury, but the atmosphere being impregnated, young people of twenty-five years of age show the same signs of decay. They had recently four shocks of earthquakes, and a house near the pits was considerably cracked, but the miners said the vibrations were only slightly felt below.
A singular idea prevails, not only in this country, but in other parts of Europe, among certain classes, which reminds me of the days of Miller. It is the prophecy of the destruction of the world on the thirteenth of June, by a comet. I have seen several newspaper articles confirming the probability. I tell the people they must emigrate to America, where the vicinity of icebergs will keep them thawed out.
A seven hours’ ride brought me to the cave of Adelsberg, recently visited by the Emperor, Empress, and suite, on their return from Italy. Some three hundred laborers were employed for several months, carrying in sand for the purpose of making dry walks, repairing the bridge over the rushing waterfall, which loses itself here and appears again some miles distant, and in the preparation of the twenty thousand lights, along all the passages, and the grand illumination of the Dome of Neptune chapel, whose death-bell music is produced by beating sticks upon the suspended stalactites, and the riding school, organ, altars, and the ascent to Mount Calvary, with its twelve stations. The roof from the base of this enormous cave at this point is scarcely visible, but from the summit of Calvary, it is strikingly grand. The immense dancing hall is used once a year, for the people’s festivals. The distance walked over is probably four miles. I cannot describe the beauties of this nature’s wonder. Thousands of columns are formed and are forming, from the dripping, and one can see the most exquisite imitation of curtains, and drapery like lace of various colors, and the imagination conjures up a thousand forms of animals, antiquities, Hindoo and Egyptian deities. The amount expended for the Imperial reception was twenty thousand guldens, or ten thousand dollars. I happened along at a favorable time, as the decorations and evergreens were not removed, and the cave was perfectly dry; and I fortunately found two Austrian officers who were willing to join in employing twelve guides and torch-bearers, for lighting up, with one hundred and forty wax candles, in order to examine the old, as well as the newly discovered grotto, and see all to advantage.
Another six hours by mail coach, and we were on the summit of the mountain, descending to Trieste, with the beautiful placid waters of the Adriatic before us, the blue sky and an Italian sunset above us, the almond trees in bloom, and the city lying at our feet, with its hundred thousand inhabitants, and the flags from the ships, of all nations, waving in the mild and gentle breeze. The sight of the sea is refreshing after so long an absence, and on this occasion the elements conspired to make it particularly striking. The growth of the city has been rapid, and great changes have been made since I was last here; the new part is most substantially built; the streets are wide, and paved with flat slabs. The costumes are various, from all parts of the Levant and Archipelago. It is a perfect Babel for languages.
CXXIV.
Venice, Italy, May 15, 1857.
A seven hours’ passage by steamer brings me across the head-waters of the Adriatic from Trieste to this city. The contrast between the rumbling noises of rolling wagons and carriages over the broad, well-paved streets of the trading city, in addition to the heat and oppression from clouds of dust from the calcareous mountain roads, to the clean, quiet quays and landing-place of the steamer at Venice, strikes the stranger upon his first visit, away from noise and dust, and breathing a pure salt atmosphere. We left Trieste with the beginning of a howling Bora, or north wind, which, being after us, had no other effect than to quiet most of our passengers, giving them a taste of the horrors of sea-sickness. Both cities are free ports, and notwithstanding they are under Austrian rule, the dissimilarity is very remarkable in every particular. The dialect is different; the currency is metallic, the Lombardian states never having accepted the paper medium of the Empire, being the only exception in all the Austrian provinces; their weights and measures are not the same; the habits and customs of the people are quite unlike. In Trieste commerce predominates, and early hours are observed; here it is the reverse, the habits of the people are late, the dining hour being five P.M.; the theatres commence at nine and are out at twelve or half-past twelve; many places of refreshment are open at midnight, and others never close; during the heat of summer, the bright moonlight nights are almost wholly passed in the open air, or in excursions in gondolas, and the quietude and tranquillity of the city induces repose by daylight.
It is now nearly a year since I wrote you from Venice, and this being my fourth visit, I will not reiterate the remarkable sights of this remarkable city. Sunday evening I was standing upon the Rialto Bridge, which crosses the grand canal, admiring by moonlight the marble palaces with their quaint architecture of Byzantine, Gothic, and other styles, when I noticed the steeple of St. Apostoli, illuminated in the distance; and on inquiry, I learned that it was a festival in honor of the admission of a priest to full privileges. How many lanes or passages, called calle, from four to twelve feet in width, in this labyrinth of a city, I travelled, I know not; but prosecuting my tortuous way through the multitude, I came at last to the Campiello, or little square of the church, whose neighboring houses were gleaming with lighted torches. Bengal lights and rockets were exploding in the air; the cafés were filled; the masses, mostly the working classes, were out, the brunettes without bonnets; the booths of the Fritolero, with their bright copper kettles of boiling oil, preparing pastry, were quite surrounded; dark-eyed damsels were overhanging the balconies, listening to the sound of a guitar, or the merry song of a gondolier, whose tiny bark lay in the canal underneath. I had so often witnessed similar spectacles, that I should have been almost unconscious of the novelty, but for the presence of an American friend on his first visit, whom I was desirous of gratifying; his expressions of surprise awoke me to a sense of the peculiarities of the scene. As gondolas are used by strangers generally, who are unacquainted with the intricate passages which require long experience, much of interest is lost. One steps in his bark from the hotel door, and is rowed from church to church, from palace to palace, as well as to the theatre, by means of these intersecting canals, without the necessity of dodging in and out, and around corners, and over bridges; when time and experience permit, however, the land-route is of great interest, for one learns thereby the characteristics of the people; one may walk for miles, and find always something new and interesting.
Isolated as is Venice, every comfort and luxury can be procured here, and one naturally seeks out the sources of supply. The flower girls trip along in the morning under the porticos of San Marco, presenting strangers with early-plucked roses. Fresh butter and milk are found at the cafés. The water carriers, mostly country village girls, in funny costume, wearing boys’ fur hats of peculiar form, with feathers, are trotting bare-footed along with a pair of small copper kettles suspended from flat elastic rods over their shoulders; the markets are well supplied with shell and other fish; the landing-place for vegetables is filled with boats delivering their cargoes; the water barges are moving up the lateral canals; the wood market furnishes its quota; foreign vessels contribute the colonial supplies; oranges, cherries, strawberries, green peas, asparagus, are seen in all parts exposed for sale, and the stranger looks in vain for any signs of vegetation, or the bubbling of a fountain. The gardino publico, the work of Napoleon, at the extreme end of the city, where, within a given circuit, horse exercise may be taken, is resorted to more by foreigners than by natives. Eight of these strange quadrupeds are kept in hire for the purpose. They are now regarded less as a curiosity than formerly.