University of Virginia Library

35. LETTER XXXV.

I left Verona with the courier at sunset, and was
at Mantua in a few hours. I went to bed in a dirty
hotel, the best in the place, and awoke, bitten at every
pore by fleas — the first I have encountered in Italy,
strange as it may seem, in a country that swarms with
them. For the next twenty-four hours I was in such
positive pain that my interest in “Virgil's birthplace”
quite evaporated. I hired a caleche, and travelled all
night to Modena.

I liked the town as I drove in, and after sleeping an
hour or two, I went out in search of “Tassoni's bucket”
(which Rogers says is not the true one), and the
picture of “Ginevra.” The first thing I met was a
man going to execution. He was a tall, exceedingly
handsome man; and, I thought, a marked gentleman,
even in his fetters. He was one of the body-guard of
the duke, and had joined a conspiracy against him, in
which he had taken the first step by firing at him
from a window as he passed. I saw him guillotined,
but I will spare you the description. The duke is the
worst tyrant in Italy, it is well known, and has been
fired at eighteen times in the streets. So said the
cicerone, who added, that “the d — l took care of his
own.” After many fruitless inquiries, I could find
nothing of “the picture,” and I took my place for
Bologna in the afternoon.

I was at Bologna at ten the next morning. As I
felt rather indisposed, I retained my seat with the
courier for Florence; and, hungry with travel and a
long fast, went into a restaurant, to make the best use

of the hour given me for refreshment. A party of
Austrian officers sat at one end of the only table,
breakfasting; and here I experienced the first rudeness
I have seen in Europe. I mention it to show its
rarity, and the manner in which, even among military
men, a quarrel is guarded against or prevented. A
young man, who seemed the wit of the party, chose to
make comments from time to time on the solidity of
what he considered my breakfast. These became at
last so pointed, that I was compelled to rise and demand
an apology. With one voice, all except the
offender, immediately sided with me, and insisted on
the justice of the demand, with so many apologies of
their own, that I regretted noticing the thing at all.
The young man rose, after a minute, and offered me
his hand in the frankest manner; and then calling for
a fresh bottle, they drank wine with me, and I went
back to my breakfast. In America, such an incident
would have ended, nine times out of ten, in a duel.

The two mounted gens d'armes, who usually attend
the courier at night, joined us as we began to ascend
the Appenines. We stopped at eleven to sup on the
highest mountain between Bologna and Florence, and
I was glad to get to the kitchen fire, the clear moonlight
was so cold. Chickens were turning on the long
spit, and sounds of high merriment came from the
rooms above. A bridal party of English had just arrived,
and every chamber and article of provision was
engaged. They had nothing to give us. A compliment
to the hostess and a bribe to the cook had their
usual effect, however; and as one of the dragoons had
ridden back a mile or two for my travelling cap, which
had dropped off while I was asleep, I invited them both,
with the courier, to share my bribed supper. The
cloth was spread right before the fire, on the same
table with all the cook's paraphernalia, and a merry
and picturesque supper we had of it. The rough Tuscan
flasks of wine and Etruscan pitchers, the brazen
helmets formed on the finest models of the antique,
the long mustaches, and dark Italian eyes of the
men, all in the bright light of a blazing fire, made a
picture that Salvator Rosa would have relished. We
had time for a hasty song or two after the dishes were
cleared, and then went gayly on our way to Florence.

Excuse the brevity of this epistle, but I must stop
here, or lose the opportunity of sending. If my letters
do not reach you with the utmost regularity, it is
no fault of mine. You can not imagine the difficulty
I frequently experience in getting a safe conveyance.