[98] Virgil, Aen., VI, 264.—ED.
[99] Virgil, Aen., VI, 129.—ED.
CHAPTER XII
NOVEMBER-DECEMBER, 1816
From Rome to Florence—Sismondi the historian—Reminiscences of
India—Lucca—Princess Elisa Baciocchi—Pisa—The Campo Santo—Leghorn—
Hebrews in Leghorn—Lord Dillon—The story of a lost glove—From Florence
to Lausanne by Milan, Turin and across Mont Cenis—Lombardy in winter—The
Hospice of Mont Cenis.
FLORENCE, Novr. 20th.
I bade adieu to Rome on the 28th October and returned here by the same road I went, viz., by Radicofani and Sienna. I arrived here after a journey of six days, having been detained one day at Aquapendente on account of the swelling of the waters. The day after my arrival here I despatched a letter to Pescia to Mr Sismondi de' Sismondi, the celebrated author of the history of the Italian Republics, to inform him of my intended visit to him, and I forwarded to him at the same time two letters of introduction, one from Colonel Wardle and the other from Mr Piton, banker at Geneva, who mentioned me in his letter to Sismondi as having des idées parfaitement analogues aux siennes. I received a most friendly answer inviting me to come to Pescia and to pass a few days with him at his villa. Pescia is thirty miles distant from Florence and the same from Leghorn. I was delighted with the opportunity of seeing a man whom I esteemed so much as an author and as a citizen, and of visiting at the same time the different cities of Tuscany, particularly Lucca and Pisa. I accordingly hired a cabriolet and on the morning of the 6th Novr drove to Prato, a good-sized handsome town, solidly built, ten miles distant from Florence. The country on each side of the road appears highly cultivated, and the road is lined with villas and farm houses with gardens nearly the whole way. Changing horses at Prato, I proceeded ten miles further to Pistoia, a large elegant and well-built town on the banks of the Ombrone.
The streets in Pistoia are broad and well paved and the Palazzo pubblico is a striking building; so is the Seminario or College. Here I changed horses again and proceeded to Pescia, where I alighted at the villa of M. Sismondi. The distance between Pistoia and Pescia is about ten or eleven miles.
Pescia is a beautiful little town, very clean and solidly built, lying in a valley surrounded nearly on all sides by mountains. Its situation is extremely romantic and picturesque, and there are several handsome villas on the slopes and summits of these mountains. On market days Pescia is crowded with the country people who flock hither from all parts, and one is astonished to see such a number of beautiful and well dressed country girls. Industry and comfort are prevalent here, as is the case indeed all over Tuscany; I mean agricultural industry, for commerce is just now at a stand.
I passed three most delightful days and which will live for ever in my recollection, with Mr Sismondi, in whom I found an inexhaustible fund of talent and information, combined with such an unassuming simplicity of character and manner that he appeared to me by far the most agreeable litterary man that I ever met with. His mother, who is a lady of great talent and perfectly conversant in English litterature, resides with him. His sister also is settled at Pescia, being married to a Tuscan gentleman of the name of Forti. The sister has a full share of the talents and amiable qualities of her mother and brother. With a family of such resources as this, you may suppose our conversation did not flag for a moment, nor do I recollect in the course of my whole life having passed such a pleasant time; and I only wished that the three days could be prolonged to three years. Politics, the occurrences of the day, living characters, classical reminiscences, French, English, Italian and German litterature, afforded us an inexhaustible variety of topics for conversation: and the profound local knowledge that Mr Sismondi possesses of Italy, of its history and antiquities, renders his communications of the utmost value to the traveller. Our supper was prolonged to a late hour and I question if the suppers and conversations of Scipio and Atticus, those nodes caenaeque Deum[100] were more piquant or afforded more variety than ours. Shakespeare, Schiller, Voltaire, Ariosto, Dante, Filangieri, Michel Angelo, Washington, Napoleon, all furnished anecdotes and reflexions in abundance.