The country about Trieste is shaped like a bellows, and the city and harbour lie in the nose. They have a wind that comes down through the valley, called the “bora,” which several times in the year is strong enough to lift people from their feet. We could see, by the clouds of dust on the mountain roads, that it was coming. At six o’clock the shrouds began to creak; the white tops flew from the waves in showers of spray, and the roof of our sea-palace began to shiver in the wind. There was no more hope. We had waited even too long. All hands were called to take down the chandeliers, sword-stars, and ottomans, and before it was half done, the storm was upon us; the bunting was flying and flapping, the nicely-chalked decks were swashed with rain, and strewn with leaves of flowers, and the whole structure, the taste and labour of the ship’s company for two days, was a watery wreck.
Lieutenant C——, who had the direction of the whole, was the officer of the deck. He sent for his pea-jacket, and leaving him to pace out his watch among the ruins of his imagination, we went below to get early to bed, and forgot our disappointment in sleep.
The next morning the sun rose without a veil. The “blue Friuli” looked clear and fresh; the south-west wind came over softly from the shore of Italy, and we commenced retrieving our disaster with elastic spirit. Nothing had suffered seriously except the flowers, and boats were despatched ashore for fresh supplies, while the awnings were lifted higher and wider than before, the bright-coloured flags replaced, the arms polished and arranged in improved order, and the decks re-chalked with new devices. At six in the evening everything was swept up, and the ball-room astonished even ourselves. It was the prettiest place for a dance in the world.
The ship has an admirable band of twenty Italians, collected from Naples and other ports, and a fanciful orchestra was raised for them on the larboard side of the mainmast. They struck up a march as the first boatful of ladies stepped upon the deck, and in the course of half an hour the waltzing commenced with at least two hundred couples, while the ottoman and seats under the hammock-cloths were filled with spectators. The frigate has a lofty poop, and there was room enough upon it for two quadrilles after it had served as a reception-room. It was edged with a temporary balustrade, wreathed with flowers, and studded with lights, and the cabin beneath (on a level with the main ball-room), was set out with card-tables. From the gangway entrance, the scene was like a brilliant theatrical ballet.
An amusing part of it was the sailors’ imitation on the forward decks. They had taken the waste shrubbery and evergreens, of which there was a great quantity, and had formed a sort of grove, extending all round. It was arched with festoons of leaves, with quantities of fruit tied among them; and over the entrance was suspended a rough picture of a frigate with the inscription, “Free trade and sailors’ rights.” The forecastle was ornamented with cutlasses, and one or two nautical transparencies, with pistols and miniature ships interspersed, and the whole lit up handsomely. The men were dressed in their white duck trowsers and blue jackets, and sat round on the guns playing at draughts, or listening to the music, or gazing at the ladies constantly promenading fore and aft, and to me this was one of the most interesting parts of the spectacle. Five hundred weather-beaten and manly faces are a fine sight anywhere.
The dance went gaily on. The reigning belle was an American, but we had lovely women of all nations among our guests. There are several wealthy Jewish families in Trieste, and their dark-eyed daughters, we may say at this distance, are full of the thoughtful loveliness peculiar to the race. Then we had Illyrians and Germans, and—Terpsichore be our witness—how they danced! My travelling companion, the count of Friuli, was there; and his little Viennese wife, though she spoke no Christian language, danced as featly as a fairy. Of strangers passing through the Trieste, we had several of distinction. Among them was a fascinating Milanese marchioness, a relative of Manzoni’s, the novelist (and as enthusiastic and eloquent a lover of her country as I ever listened to on the subject of oppressed Italy), and two handsome young men, the counts Neipperg, sons-in-law to Maria Louisa, who amused themselves as if they had seen nothing better in the little duchy of Parma.
We went below at midnight, to supper, and the ladies came up with renewed spirit to the dance. It was a brilliant scene indeed. The officers of both ships in full uniform, the gentlemen from shore, mostly military, in full dress, the gaiety of the bright red bunting, laced with white and blue, and studded, wherever they would stand, with flowers, and the really uncommon number of beautiful women, with the foreign features and complexions so rich and captivating to our eyes, produced altogether an effect unsurpassed by anything I have ever seen even at the court fêtes of Europe. The daylight gun fired at the close of a galopade, and the crowded boats pulled ashore with their lovely freight by the broad light of morning.
| [5] | A German bed is never over five feet in length, and proportionably narrow. The sheets, blankets, and coverlets, are cut exactly to the size of the bed’s surface, so that there is no tucking up. The bed-clothes seem made for cradles. It is easy to imagine how a tall person sleeps in them. |