It is against the rich and high-born, however, that the Austrian wages war. A hatred of the German is rooted in the nobility of Milan; they are watched with unsleeping vigilance: above all, the greatest care is taken that their youth should not receive an enlightened education. From the moment a young man is known to hold himself free from the prevalent vices of the times, to be studious and high-minded, he becomes marked; he is not allowed to travel; he is jealously watched; no career is open to him; he is hemmed in to a narrow and still narrower circle; till at last the moss of years and hopelessness gathers over and deadens his mind. For the present governments of Italy know that there is a spirit abroad in that country, which forces every Italian that thinks and feels, to hate them and rebel in his heart.
26th Sept.
Still no letter: the mystery of its non-appearance grows darker. I have been better off these last few days, from the arrival of the friends who accompanied us down the Moselle. With them I have revisited the Brera, and their society has cheered me. They are gone, and I am fallen again into solitude and perplexity.
27TH.
At last there is change; my letter is come, or rather I have found it, for it has been here almost ever since our arrival—long before I was left alone. I had as usual visited the post-office, and looked over the letters arrived this day—in vain. I then asked for yesterday’s letters; yesterday was not post-day from England, and I had not visited the office; but letters might have come to me from Venice or Florence. The huge packet of all the English letters was handed me; I looked it over listlessly, when—a bright light illumined my darkness—my letter—lost amidst the crowd—yet I had often looked over this same heap of letters, and it had not been there. I mentioned this to the clerk, who replied, “O, then it must have been out at the time.” It seems that they send the uncalled-for English letters round the town to the different hotels, to be claimed; but by ill luck mine did not reach me. By mistake it had been directed in the first place to Como; but it had arrived in Milan on the 17th, and this is the 27th.
All is changed now—all is hurry and bustle—I am making inquiries for my journey to Geneva. I sit down to close this letter, and to say that I quit Milan the day after to-morrow. My next letter will reach you from Paris. Adieu.
LETTER XII.
Departure from Milan.—Journey across the Simplon.—Lake of Geneva.—Lyons.—Steamboat to Chalons.—Diligence to Paris.—History of the eventful Journey across Mont St. Gothard.
Milan, 28th Sept.
I have made a compact with a veturino, to take me and my maid to Geneva for ten napoleons, in six days. He is to provide us with sleeping-rooms, a dinner, and coffee in the morning. This is very reasonable; but we are not to have the carriage to ourselves: he is already engaged to take three English ladies, and I am to join the party. I sent M—— to their hotel to look at our companions; she brings back word that they are certainly ladies—three sisters they are; but, from their accent, she thinks them Irish. Three Irish ladies out on their travels without any attendant, seems odd; but I trust to my maid’s tact as to their being, as she phrased it, really ladies. The whole day has been occupied in getting a passport. P—— had taken mine; and there is always a good deal of trouble in getting a fresh one visé in Austrian Italy.
The weather is beautiful: it seems, on looking back, that unwillingly as I had remained behind, yet thus I have secured for myself a pleasant journey in fine weather, while my friends encountered inclement skies, and perhaps disasters thereon attendant. It had been agreed that they were not to write, as I should probably leave Milan before a letter could arrive. I cannot, therefore, hear how it has fared with them in their passage across Mont St. Gothard till I reach Paris.