After Waterloo: Reminiscences of European Travel 1815-1819

by William Edward Frye

The village of the Simplon is a mile beyond the toll-house, descending. We stopped there for two hours to dine. A snow storm had fallen and the weather was exceedingly cold; the mountain air had sharpened our appetite, but we could get nothing but fish and eggs as it was a jour maigre, and the Valaisans are rigid observers of the ordinances of the Catholic church. We however, on assuring the landlord that we were militaires, prevailed on him to let us have some ham and sausages. German is the language here. The road from the toll-house to Domo d'Ossola (the first town at the foot of the mountain on the Italian side) is a descent, but the slope is as gentle as on the rest of the road. Fifteen miles beyond the village of the Simplon stands the village of Isella, which is the frontier town of the King of Sardinia, and where there is a rigorous douane, and ten miles further is Domo d'Ossola, where we arrived at seven in the evening. Between Isella and Domo d'Ossola the scenery becomes more and more romantic, varying at every step, cataracts falling on all sides, and three more galleries to pass. Domo d'Ossola appears a large and neat clean town, and we put up at a very good inn. At Isella begins the Italian language, or rather Piedmontese.

The next morning we proceeded on our journey till we reached Fariolo, which is on the northern extremity of the Lago Maggiore. The road from Domo d'Ossola thro' the villages of Ornavasso and Vagogna is thro' a fertile and picturesque valley, or rather gorge, of the mountain, narrow at first, but which gradually widens as you approach to the lake. The river Toso runs nearly in a parallel direction with the road. The air is much milder than in Switzerland, and you soon perceive the change of climate from its temperature, as well as from the appearance of the vines and mulberry trees and Indian corn called in this country grano turco.

At Fariolo, after breakfast, my friend Zadera took leave of me and embarked his carriage on the lake in order to proceed to Lugano; and I who was bound to Milan, having hired a cabriolet, proceeded to Arona, after stopping one hour to refresh the horses at Belgirate. The whole road from Fariolo to Arona is on the bank of the Lago Maggiore, and nothing can be more neat than the appearance of all these little towns which are solidly and handsomely built in the Italian taste.

Before I arrived at Arona, and at a distance of two miles from it, I stopped in order to ascend a height at a distance of one-eighth of a mile from the road to view the celebrated colossal statue in bronze of St Charles Borromaeus, which may be seen at a great distance. It is seventy cubits high, situated on a pedestal of twenty feet, to ascend which requires a ladder. You then enter between his legs, or rather the folds of his gown, and ascend a sort of staircase till you reach his head. There is something so striking in the appearance of this black gigantic figure when viewed from afar, and still more when you are at the foot of it, that you would suppose yourself living in the time of fairies and enchanters, and it strongly reminded me of the Arabian Nights, as if the statue were the work of some Génie or Peri; or as if it were some rebel Genius transformed into black marble by Solomon the great Prophet. I am not very well acquainted with the life and adventures of this Saint, but he was of the Borromean family, who are the most opulent proprietors of the Milanese. Every tract of land, palace, castle, farm in the environs of Arona seem to belong to them. If you ask whose estate is that? whose villa is that? whose castle is that? the answer is, to the Count Borromeo, who seems to be as universal a proprietor here as Nong-tong-paw at Paris or Monsieur Kaniferstane at Amsterdam.[53] Arona is a large, straggling but solidly built town, and presents nothing worth notice.

We proceeded on our journey the next morning. Shortly after leaving Arona, the road diverges from the lake and traverses a thick wood until it reaches the banks of the Tessino; on the other bank of which, communicating by means of a flying bridge, stands the town of Sesto Calende. The Tessino divides and forms the boundary between the Sardinian and Austrian territory, and Sesto Calende is the frontier of His Imperial, Royal and Apostolic Majesty. After a rigorous search of my portmanteau at the Douane, and exhibiting my passport, I was allowed to proceed on my journey to Milan.

At Rho, where I stopped to dine, stands a remarkably ancient tree said to have been planted in the time of Augustus. The country presents a perfect plain, highly cultivated, all the way from Sesto to Milan. The chaussée is broad and admirably well kept up and lined on both sides with poplars. The roads in Lombardy are certainly the finest in Europe. I entered Milan by the gate which leads direct to the esplanade between the citadel and the city, and drove to the Pension Suisse, which is in a street close to the Cathedral and Ducal palace.

MILAN, 12 October.

I am just returned from the Teatro della Scala, renowned for its immense size: it certainly is the most stupendous theatre I ever beheld and even surpassed the expectation I had formed of it, so much so that I remained for some minutes lost in astonishment. I was much struck with the magnificence of the scenery and decorations. An Opera and Ballo are given every night, and the same are repeated for a month, when they are replaced by new ones. The boxes are all hired by the year by the different noble and opulent families, and in the Parterre the price is only thirty soldi or sous, about fifteen pence English, for which you are fully as well regaled as at the Grand Opéra at Paris for three and a half francs and far better than at the Italian theatre in London for half a guinea. The opera I saw represented is called L'Italiana in Algieri, opera buffa, by Rossini.

The Ballo was one of the most magnificent spectacles I ever beheld. The scenery and decorations are of the first class and superior even to those of the Grand Opéra at Paris. The Ballo was called Il Cavaliere del Tempio. The story is taken from an occurrence that formed an episode in the history of the Crusades and which has already furnished to Walter Scott the subject of a very pleasing ballad entitled the Fire-King, or Count Albert and Fair Rosalie. Battles of foot and horse with real horses, Christians and Moslems, dancing, incantations, excellent and very appropriate music leave nothing to be desired to the ravished spectator. In the Ballo all is done in pantomime and the acting is perfect. The Italians seem to inherit from their ancestors the faculty of representing by dumb show the emotions of the mind as well as the gestures of the body, and in this they excel all other modern nations. The dancing is not quite so good as what one sees at the Paris theatre, and besides that sort of dancing they are very fond in Italy of grotesque dances which appear to me to be mere tours de force. But the decorations are magnificent, and the cost must be great.

It was a fine moonlight night on my return from the Scala, which gave a very pleasing effect to the Duomo or Cathedral as I passed by it. The innumerable aiguilles or spires of the most exquisite and delicate workmanship, tapering and terminating in points all newly whitened, gave such an appearance of airiness and lightness to this beautiful building that it looked more visionary than substantial, and as if a strong puff of wind would blow it away. The next morning I went to visit the Cathedral in detail. It stands in the place called Piazza del Duomo. On this piazza stands also the Ducal Palace; the principal cafés and the most splendid shops are in the same piazza, which forms the morning lounge of Milan. Parallel to one side of the Duomo runs the Corsia de' Servi, the widest and most fashionable street in Milan, the resort of the beau monde in the evening, and leading directly out to the Porta Orientale. The Cathedral appears to me certainly the most striking Gothic edifice I ever beheld. It is as large as the Cathedral of Notre Dame at Paris, and the architecture of the interior is very massive. There is little internal ornament, however, except the tomb or mausoleum of St Charles Borromeo, round which is a magnificent railing; there are also the statues of this Saint and of St Ambrogio. There are several well-executed bas-reliefs on the outside of the Church, from Scripture subjects, and the view from any of the balconies of the spires is very extensive. On the North the Alps, covered with snow and appearing to rise abruptly within a very short horizon, tho' their distance from Milan is at least sixty or seventy miles; and on all the other sides a vast and well-cultivated plain as far as the eye can reach, thickly studded with towns and villages, and the immense city of Milan nine miles in circumference at your feet. The streets in general in Milan are well paved; there is a line of trottoir on each side of the street equi-distant from the line of houses; so that these trottoirs seem to be made for the carriage wheels to roll on, and not for the foot passengers, who must keep within the space that lies between the trottoirs and line of houses. With the exception of the Piazza del Duomo there is scarcely anything that can be called a piazza in all Milan, unless irregular and small open places may be dignified with that name; the houses and buildings are extremely solid in their construction and handsome in their appearance. A canal runs thro' the city and leads to Pavia; on this canal are stone bridges of a very solid construction. The shops in Milan are well stored with merchandize, and make a very brilliant display. The finest street, without doubt, is the Corsia de' Servi. In the part of it that lies parallel to the Cathedral, it is about as broad as the Rue St Honoré at Paris; but two hundred yards beyond it, it suddenly widens and is then broader than Portland Place the whole way to the Porta Orientale. On the left hand of this street, on proceeding from the Cathedral to the Porta Orientale, is a beautiful and extensive garden; an ornamental iron railing separates it from the street. From the number of fine trees here there is so much shade therefrom that it forms a very agreeable promenade during the heat of the day. On the right hand side of the Corsia de' Servi, proceeding from the Cathedral, are the finest buildings (houses of individuals) in Milan, among which I particularly distinguished a superb palace built in the best Grecian taste with a colonnaded portico, surmounted by eight columns. Just outside the Porta Orientale is the Corso, with a fine spacious road with Allées on each side lined with trees. The Corso forms the evening drive and promenade à cheval of the beau monde. I have seen nowhere, except in Hyde Park, such a brilliant show of equipages as on the Corso of Milan. I observe that the women display a great luxe de parure at this promenade.