The Express.
London, England, 1866-10-09 00:00:00

ITALY.

Ai
tnox OUR (MIMI, CORRESPOSDENT3

- worm 11 z Ai VENICE, Ocr. 1.
- Many a worthy eitis' en has crossed the Lagoon
that he may enjoy the humours of the crowd at
Mestre, and may slip away for a while beyond
the limits of Austrian authority, to visit the
Italian outposts which are not far distant. Many
a gondola has been chartered for the trip, and a

m;a11 steamboat has been running at regular hours

between Venice and this place. Having had expe-
rience on a former voyage of the dulness of a
gondola, when holiday making was in question, I

preferred the steamboat. She was punctual to a
minute in her departure from her anchorage before
Bt. Mark's ; and, as the first stroke of the clock
was heard, went ahead with a shrill whistle.

Another whistle and another startled the echoes of
the old palaces on the Grand Canal, whilst we
glided past them at our utmost speed, or shut off
steam and put the helm hard over to avoid colli-
sion with some rash gondola which crossed our
bows. Then there was an interchange of compli-
ments, in the smooth Venetian dialect, between
our captain and the gondoliers—suave in manner,
but strong in substance, and, with rapid strokes of
the screw, we glided on once more. At the Rialto
we were delayed by a number of laden barges, which
had become entangled in the narrow channel be-
neath the bridge, and as we moved forward very
slowly we could hear a comical water-carrier inter-
spersing his regular cry with the names of his King
sad of his country—" Fresh water for Victor
Xnunanuel !" "Fresh water for United Italy!" and
so on through several artistic variations. There
was a roar of applause at each addition to the song,
although prudence forbade the people to join in, as
they would fain have done. Was not a scandalised
policeman standing near the bridge, and could we
not see the bright bayonets of the Huns who had
been detached to support him on his beat? Yes,
we could see them very plainly, and the time for
speaking out had not yet come.
The steamboat created no little sensation as she
advanced upon her course. What with shouts and
stoppages, hair-breadth escapes from collision, and
ironical cheers from small boys, who ran by the
side when there chanced to be a footpath, we felt
sure that Venice was aware of our move-
ments. Perhaps the gondoliers were jealous
at their formidable rival. Perhaps they took
the matter philosophically, and remembered
that the railway viaduct would soon be re-
opened for general traffic, and would supersede the
present ferrying to Mestre. Certain it is that we
had a race across the Lagoon with a three-oared
gondola, and a close race, too. Jealousor no, the men
struggled hard to keep their lead of twenty boats'
length, or thereabouts ; they made their oars bend,
and seemed as though they would fall on their
noses should anything go wrong. The steers-
man, perched high up on the pointed stern, with
his whole figure clearly visible, was a study of
graceful strength and skill. How he stooped and
strained to give force to his strokes. How deftly
be combined guiding the others with helping them
on. They never looked back, but they knew that
we were close behind, for our engine puffed loudly
in token of high pressure, and our whistle was by
so means silent. On we went, and on they went ;
weasels were met, and vessels were overtaken.
The Custom-house, at the entrance of the Mestre
11111111, grew plainly visible, and the distance
between us lessened at every stroke. That
Custom-house saved them. They touched for
an instant, sprang out, spoke to the officials,
pushed off again, and were gone before we
were even laid alongside. In vain did steam bring
us near them once more, as we approached the fort
of Malgheria. Bone and muscle were favoured by
fortune, for the single passenger in the gondola had
his passport quickly examined, whilst we steam-
boat passengers were kept waiting until a servant
of the Emperor had ascertained that we were all
legally qualified to go ashore. So, when the rest
of the canal had been traversed, and we arrived at
Mestre, the three gondoliers sat there watching us,
with broad grins upon their sun-burnt faces.
It is pleasant to see such well-dressed, well-
looking country folk as have gathered at the fair. The
men are tall and strongly knit; the women would
often be very pretty but for too much going about
bareheaded in the sun. Of booths, and stalls, and
fruit-baskets, there is much the same display as at
other fairs. I have listened to a couple of voluble
Cheap Jacks, and am convinced that they must have
had the Choicest utterances of their English confreres
translated for them into every-day Italian. The
man with patent boot blacking for sale might
have brought tears to the eyes of a Briton long
absent from home ; he brushed an old boot until
ft shone again, and held it up mirror-like before a
dubious purchaser. Then there are barrel organs,
which Italians positively enjoy, performing among
the booths, and decayed gentlemen with guitars,
whose music deserves more than copper coins—
something better than the organs, and whose pre-
sence fills up the gap caused by the absence of
negro delineators. Lastly, there are Imperial
policemen and Huns, with fixed bayonets, stroll-
ing through the crowd. This last is not like Eng-
land, and will not long be like Italy. But the
people are in good humour, and can tolerate Huns,
who are soon to depart, and who buy trinkets at
the stalls as mementos of the province which they
have faithfully garrisoned. The people are in good
hmnour, for they know that an hour's walk will
bring them to a very different scene.
An hour's walk along the Treviso road brought
me to Victor Emmanuel's soldiers, and to his
Majesty's name pasted upon many a door-post, and
to the tricolor waving proudly over cottage
and villa, as a herald of the good time
coming. There are trees on either side of
the road, though they do not give much
shade, and there is a fine view of the mountains of
the Tyrol far away to the northward. You might
take a worse walk by way of passing your time and
without any regard to politics. The road is covered
with travellers of every sort on their pilgrimage to
see the tricolor, or on their way to visit the
Mestre fair. Some, when they reach the Italian
outpost, and are told that they must be fumigated
to clear them of cholera before they can proceed
any further, are content to catch a glimpse of the
flag and of the uniform, and to return unsmoked.
But this will not help them much. I understand
that we are here out of bounds as regards health,
sad must undergo a strict fumigation at the Aus-
trian custom-house before we shall be permitted to
re-enter Venice.

CRYSTAL PALACE. ONE SHILLING DAY.•••-•
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