The national era. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1847-1860, 1859-12-15
For the National Era.
A PALACE IN GEN GA.
BY EDWARD SPENCER.

fact which the bells proclaimed loudly enough,
as II, indeed, they were ringing half dozen
Gre-alarms at once. But even the holiday, and
the desire of everybody to celebrate the occa-
sion-manifest in their spruce attire, the flow
ers with which they decked themselves, and
their evident disposition to lounge and loiter-
even all this could not prevent the square from
being busy, could not keep away from it its
motley throng could not diminish the roaring
Babel of sounds, which seem so strange to one
who is looking for the quiet and gentle dream
mess of Italy, the land of the dolce far niente
1t was with half smile that Mrs. Beale recog
missed, in this pot pourri of sounds, the "Carni
val of Venice, as she had heard it played by a
famous violinist. But to what could she iken
the sights? Above, the serene blue sky !;
around, the palaces on the pavement, men
a9d donkeys-but such men and such donkeys
Donkeys laden with bundles of wood, until it
seemed all wood and no donkey; donkeys
laden with panniers of fruit, with TASKS of oil,
with stacks of cabbages, with ropes of onions,
with pyramids of flowers donkeys dragging
carts, piled high with white bales donkeys led
by women, and pushed by men and, whether
led, pushed, or driven, always assailed, in
voked, entreated, persuaded, cajoled, objur.
gated, by all manner of voices, from shrillest
soprano to most sepulchral basso. What a
wealth of words those screaming people wasted,
and such people! Women, children, priests,
beggars, bandits, strangers, pushing, showing,
moving how they could, but chattering always |!
On the carriage moves, towards the one street
passable for such vehicles, the Srada Balbi
and the Strada NuoUa. Yes, it was fiesta
day in Genoa the Superb, and everybody was
celebrating, all as busy as bees, doing nothing,
and making tremendous fuss over the per-
formance. Everybody was in everybody s
doorway, clustering there like jolly purple
grapes just before the time Of the vintage-men,
women, and embarrassing fruit, gambling,
dancing, singing, summing themselves royalty,
as if the sun belonged to them only, and was
heritage that could not be made too much of.
And oh the palaces, the rich old palaces, the
mouldy dilapidated palaces, with their furnished
wealthy hangings, their evanishing frescoes,
their elaborate carvings and fretwork, all green
and damp, and fungus-grown, and howersprin-
killed. 1t looks so old-so very very old-is
the Americans first thought.
The carriage moves on, past streets too mar
row for vehicles, adown whose long vista, cool
and shady, Mrs. Beale chances with wonder,
comparing them to Cathedral aisles, and won
dering if the neighbors high up there cannot
clasp hands from their opposite windnws-won-
dering how all the vast throng moving up and
down, like courtiers in palace corridor, man.
10 dor
if the wealth Of these little bay window like
shops is in proportion to their outward show,
and blaze, and glitter--wondering also, if the
silent echoes from above there do not some
times startle this merry people, and make them
sad The coach moves on, amid foul smells
and fair sights, past fruit stalls and polenta
stalls; past gaudy shrines of saints, and stately
palaces, with Tapping old clothes, ragged bed
coverings, tawdry Emery, always something
hanging out at the windows, for all the world
like the auctioneer's red flag. Past ugly Cap
puccini, with stupid, gross, sensual faces, clad
in coarse serge, and with cross hanging from
their girdles, who beg sullenly in doorways !;
past saints professions, with taper and bell,
and boyish choristers in white robes, who have
invariably painful need of pocket handker-
chiefs; past priests in their long streaming
cloaks, their black, tight fitting small clothes,
their large-buckled shoes, that, one fanced,
must creak awfully in sick-room, and their
fiat black cooked hats-and there were some
of these priests; fellows who invariably went in
pairs, crept along stsalthily and with noiseless
tread and oblique under.glance, fellows who
suggested to one, as it we're inevitably, those
famous canes nigyi of the worshipful Dom. Hen.
Faustus, Corn. Agrippa, and other medieval
sorcerers Of note-whom it was matter OF
course to look upon as Jesuits. Teen past
gorgeous churches, all bedecked and festooned,
with vast red curtains waving in their door
ways, which, whe. livelier gust or hand
uplifted them, revealed such dazzling blaze
of marble, and gold, and fresco, and taper-light
shed upon jewels and precious fabrics-such
lavish waste of design, fretwork, incrustation,
and inlaying-that the eye was robbed of all
power of electng whereupon to light for inspec-
ton. And all the WHILE from thousand cam
paniles, If seemed ten thousand bells were
ringing race, very steepLe-chase of clatter,
as if the governing principle of the peal were,
The Devil take the hindmostl On went the
coach, past peasant women from the hills, In
their picturesque costumes, and peasant men,
barelegged, with nosegays at their button holes
and images of toy-saints in their hat-bands;
past Forestieri, in divers habits of the Boule-
vsrdes and of Bond street; past Genoese
ladies, bare headed, with huge fans in their
famous as the prettiest article of dress in all
Italy, according to the unanimous verdict of
sight seers.) Up hill always the carriage went,
while these sights, so strange and new, and in
comparable with anything else she had ever be-
held, skirtled past the preoccupied and anxious
eyes of Mrs. Beale, like the face of an unknown
country to the panoramic vision of balloon
voyager.
Finally, the coach stopped. 1t was in front
of tall, gloomy old palace, the lower windows
of which were barred with bars of rusty iron.
There was mean old gateway, with remnants
of splendidly carved arch above it, and the
gate itself, iron-bound and studded, wore Bills
ters here and there upon its surface of hundred
yearold paint, sporting also an unhinged
knocker, that had once been ring in lions
mouth, rusty, distorted, toothless old brazen
knocker. The coaehman, standing in front of
it, with his burntsienna legs in full relief, rap
ped thunderously, until dropping plaster from
the arch above warned him OF the dangerous con-
sequences of such vehemence. By and by an
other Italian, with bandit hat and great display
of legs, opened the gate, gaping as if he had
just awakened from fortnight of sleep. Gee
ing the coach, he made quick gesture of re-
fusal and was retiring again, speaking rapidly
in the Genoese pdtois. Coachee opened re-
tortive fire upon him, and there began bafo
scene, worthy of Goldoni, when George sprapg
from the box, gave the porter shake, and in
an instant the creaky gate was stretched wide.
Mrs. Beale dismounted, and followed the good
fellow through the gate into what had been q
garden, it seemed, with here and there an
orange or pomegranate tree-but all was over
grown with tall, rank, coarse weeds. The pave
ment of the walks was of broad, diamondshaped
marble flags, each one cracked and loose, and
grass-grown at every interstice. The front of