Where is the boast if ye, to manhood grown, I felt mine eyes already fill, but they Laugh'd at my tears, and dash'd with oars the spray: (Nor is there God more prompt to hear than he,) And mottled panthers grim are crouching nigh. AN IDLER. A BOILED PIG. A COLONEL of militia, of some note To government yclep'd of petticoat Did homage; though 'twould put him in a fret From the famed Wife of Bath would bear the bell. The Major was a wag, demure and sly, And oft insidiously would jest upon it; And that in the twinkle of an eye say He read the case; the sovereign wore the bonnet; "I'd have you, Sir, to know (my wife she knows it) Boil'd Pig I'll have, or to the door I cast her: The day arrived; and all the usual set, With friends from ten miles round, be sure, were there: New Stulz and silver-paper'd epaulette Then saw the light; and Martin's jetty glare Dinner announced, the Major led the Lady; Went shouldering through the door, and down the stair; All seated, queerish expectation sate Had tuck'd a pig, just roasted to a turn: Full fairly earn'd the Major's promised crown; "No, Thomas!" quoth the Colonel; "Thomas, no!” 'Tis better at the bottom than the head: With a mock candour and a vanquish'd air; The laughers roar'd; with flush, and gasp, and stare, His eyes reproachful in the socket roll'd Upon the wife, who sate, like Thais, by him; If she had meant to please him or deny him; And wish'd ten thousand times he had been foil'd,- SKETCHES ON THE ROAD. No. V. IN our last letter we brought you to Genoa, in which city we shall not detain you long, for we have gone far since we wrote, and as we have for some time indulged in our old and habitual vice, idleness, we shall be compelled to hurry you along with more than usual haste. We begin then with Genoa, and pray you not to pish! or pshaw! most grave and reverend Signor, if we confess that what struck us first, and pleased us most, was the prettiness let us see, aye, prettiness will do, of the women; their heads are like those of Guido's Madonnas. Few cities of the same size can make a brighter display of female charms than Genoa does on the morning promenade, after mass on feast days, in the Strada Balbi or Strada Nuova. The ladies are commonly habited in a costume which resembles that of Andalusia, and is particularly neat, See November, No. XXIII, page 495. and modest, and pretty; but what shall we say of the men who accompany them? Husbands, Cicisbeos, or first cousins-the varlets are such mean-looking, ill-dressed fellows, that one might suppose them to be the ladies' valets; and when one mixes with them in society, their manners are not calculated to remove the impression left by their appearance. The Genoese are commonly accused of cupidity and avarice, and the accusation is not unjust: from high to low, they are greedy to gain, and vigilant to keep; their thrift is sordid, and they do not blush to save and spare even to meanness. This disposition seems to be inveterate, for it does not forsake them in the social hour. We were invited, with some other foreigners, to dine with a Genoese of distinction, who certainly could not plead a narrow revenue in excuse of his parsimony. The table was laid in a spacious saloon, paved with marble, richly adorned with painting, and gilding, and Venetian mirrors which were placed almost all round, and reached from the ceiling to the floor; the ladies were elegantly dressed, and the servants had on their finest liveries. The appearance of the gentlemen was far less respectable than that of English mechanics in their Sunday clothes; the master of the house wore an old-fashioned old blue coat, with brass buttons, a black silk waistcoat, black neck-handkerchief, nankeen breeches, and top-boots! The meagre dinner corresponded marvellously ill with the splendour of the apartment and the finery of the fair guests, but for the men it was good enough; we could get a much better one in Paris for two francs; it was poor in quantity, and ordinary in quality; we drank common wine, and had but little even of that. With the dessert, however, one lonely melancholy bottle of French wine was produced, out of compliment to the English there, who were at table. The whole was hurried off with unmannerly haste, and after dinner a cup of coffee and a little sip of Rosolio broke up the company. The characters of men necessarily influence the characters of women, and therefore we were not surprised to find that the pretty, poetical-looking ladies of Genoa were unpoetized 645 by a low, bargain-driving disposisitting in the box of a young lady, tion: at the Opera, one night, we were handsome, rich, and noble, who, in the middle of the performance, observing a French Marchand in the pit, beckoned him to come to her; and, on his entering the box, began chaffering about the prices of some silks and shawls: we, who, more's the pity! are quite novices in the art, and dexterity with which she conwere really astonished at the coolness trived to make the Frenchman lower his demand; at length, however, he would yield no further, the difference between what she offered and what he asked was a mere trifle, but neither of them would budge: when the fair dame found all her manœuvres ineffectual her tranquillity forsook her, she burst out into vulgar violence, called the poor fellow Voleur and Brigand, and almost thrust him out of the box. There were two other ladies present, who did not seem to feel either shame or surprise at this transaction, but on the contrary, took every opportunity to assist their friend with an argument. It is possible, that observing this mercenary disposition in the Genoese, which forces itself upon every stranger's attention, people have sometimes assumed consequences which the facts will not warrant. nesty which one traveller repeats The common accusation of dishoafter another, is, we apprehend, as little deserved by the Genoese as by any other Italians. Quotations from Virgil or Dante are very little to the purpose, let us look at the facts. The Genoese are commonly esteemed as very honest servants all over Italy, and in Gibraltar the porters are composed of the natives of Genoa and those of Barbary. The boatmen at the same place are always Genoese, and they are considered very honest fellows. The circumstance mentioned by Forsyth, that "native porters (the magazines of goods, and place are excluded from the Porto Franco," where business is transacted, &c.) is not the effect of suspicion but conters have existed as a confraternity venience. The Bergamasque porfrom the earliest period of Genoese commerce: all the money which they earn is paid to their Capi, by whom they are governed according to cer tian peculiar laws which exist among themselves: they support one another in sickness or other distress, and admit none into their community but those who are born at Bergamo; in consequence of which rule, the wives of those men are often sent to Bergamo when the time of their deli very approaches, in order that their children may inherit the privilege of exercising the national vocation. It requires a tolerable share of credulity to suppose that children bred and taught in Genoa will remain honest because they were born in Bergamo, and we believe no one thinks any such thing: the porters are found to be more manageable and more serviceable as a body, than they would be while existing as scattered and unconnected individuals; for this reason, advantage is taken of this union which has resulted from chance, or from very remote circumstances, and the Bergamasques are protected and encouraged. These men experienced very severe distress during the latter period of the French government, from the many obstructions laid in the way of commerce; they contrived, however, to exist, and may possibly some day regain their ancient prosperity. The rule which "excludes from this free port the clergy, the military, and women, as persons who may pilfer, but who cannot be searched," still exists, but is not much attended to: the same rule would be as useful and applicable to other cities as to Genoa. We should not have spent so many words on this subject, but as we have spoken freely of the meanness of the Genoese, we thought it but fair to defend them on a point in which we believe they have been slandered; indeed, we are always happy when we can wipe off an opprobrium from any set of men; it is ever pleasant to show that there is not quite so little virtue in the world as was supposed. With respect to the scenery we have but little to say: Genoa, notwithstanding its long list of palaces, has only two fine streets, Nuova and Balbi; indeed, they may be considered as one, for they run nearly in a line, and are only interrupted by an indifferent square (Piazza del Annonziata). These are the only promenadable streets in Genoa,* but they are indeed fine: they consist of a long succession of stately palaces, bearing the sounding names of their ancient proprietors, as Durazzo, Balbi, Serra, Negroni, Doria, &c. The gorgeous saloon in the Serra Palace is perhaps unequalled in the world, but how contemptible it is to allow the Custode to beg money of visitors!-It degrades the splendid wonder to a show. There are some of the most impudent beggars in Genoa we ever met with; in one of the churches we were dodged about for half an hour by a ragged priest, who forced us to listen to his stupid explanations of the pictures, architecture, &c. and when we went away begged us to give him some money to buy a cigar!-The palaces of Genoa are generally bedaubed on the outside with painted columns, pilasters, cornices, &c.: to us it ap pears, that if modern poverty or ra pacity have stripped these aristocratical mansions of their marble fronts, it would be better to see the plain stucco, or even the bare walls, than these shabby apologies for ancient magnificence, these phantoms of glories that are gone. There is an air of neglect and desertion in almost all the palaces, which indeed are ge nerally "a world too wide" for the shrunken circumstances of their present possessors. The pictures that once crowded every edifice are nearly all gone; we saw little in the way of the Fine Arts that we remember now, except the Basso Relievo of the Virgine Addolorata, by Michael Angelo, which is in the Albergo de' Poveri. This divine piece we shall never forget, we hope at least we never shall,-nay, we are sure we never can, for it must rush into our minds, whenever any thing shall wake a tender and solemn emotion within us. We never felt more forcibly the immeasureableness of the gulf which lies between excellence and mediocrity, than when our guide, tired with our long stay, drew us on and pointed out another piece of sculpture, a thing by Puget, a statue The large square "Piazza dell' Acqua Verde," at the end of the Strada Balbi, might be converted into a fine parade; at present it is almost exclusively the resort of the vulgar. of the Virgin ascending to heaven, with a group of angels beneath her. The Albergo is a majestic building, and looks more like the palace of an Emperor than a poor-house and hospital. Of its domestic economy we can say little or nothing; it is of course well furnished with the usual mummery of Catholic superstition, such as tawdry Madonnas in the extacies of beatitude, and ill-carved crucifixes. At Genoa one does not, of course, escape the usual abomination of Italian filth; a wide dark hall on the basement story of the Doria palace is converted into a public Cloaca, although, as it is used as a common passage, the disgusting stench must be an hourly nuisance, to say nothing of the scandal of thus polluting the palace of the greatest man whom Genoa ever produced: but what can be expected from the people of a city where" Luoghi communi all' Inglese," is written up in the public streets, as a special recommendation of this or that Albergo. The great est enjoyment which we had at Genoa was in ascending the fortified mountains against which the city leans; from the lofty peak of the battery of the Sperone, the view is delightful; we saw the mura triplicata, which incloses the city, running along the chain of hills on which we stood. The view on every side is delightful; on the right, we looked down upon the lofty fanale or lighthouse, and on the beautiful Riviera di Ponente; on the left, on the pleasant suburbs of Albaro, on gentle hills covered with villas, and on the other equally fine coast or Riviera di Levanti: before us lay the close shining mass of the city and the port, and beyond the far stretching sea, ruffled by a gentle breeze, and now and then streaked by a passing vessel, or shadowed by a drifting cloud. A Corsican sentinel, whom we met on the hill, told us that sometimes on a fine day the mountains of his native island might be seen; he said, he had often seen them while doing duty in that lonely spot: the poor fellow spoke with a good deal of feeling. The natives of islands are certainly more attached to their country than continental people. Behind the hills 647 the view is curious and highly picturesque; we got into one of the turrets, or watch-boxes, that project from the parapets, and amused ourselves for half an hour in peeping through the eyelets or loop-holes. We saw far below the winding valley of Polcevera, thickly set with villages, and churches, and clustering villas; we traced for a long way the road by which we had descended from the backward glance, contentedly ran Bocchetta to Genoa, and, with a chesnut-trees which we had passed on over the groups of broad and leafy our way. We afterwards strolled for an hour along these extensive walls, Republic at different periods.* In the repeated labours of the Genoese many places they are raised on the brink of precipices, and many of the turrets hang over black and shadowy ravines. upon them, and the weather has been Time has laid his hand busy to sap and to destroy; here and there they are almost in ruins, but the most important parts are under repair, and newly added to the works. From a strong fortress is the necessity of occupying the heights, the Genoese have been compelled to extend the line of fortification so far as to render it weak; it would require an army to man the works. piece of artillery, indeed we believe We did not see a single no one has seen a cannon up here since Genoa was taken by the English, and we apprehend the works falls into stronger hands than those will never be furnished until Genoa of the King of Sardinia. We descended from these romantic heights with regret, a regret to which travellers are particularly exposed; their pleasures are in constant ebb; beauty and grandeur appear before them, but in a short hour they pass away, like the wonders of a dream, perhaps never to return, and heaviness farewel even to insensible objects comes over the heart when we bid which we shall see no more. In the evening, however, over a chirping bottle of buon vino d'Asti, we forgot our momentary pensiveness, and were very busily and very merrily employed in discoursing of the odd ups and the captain of the Sparanzello in downs of this workday world, when * They were finished in the year 1536. |