THE ENGLISHWOMAN nf ITALY. * The Englishwoman in Italy is a
book on which we may well congratulate both our own countrymen and the Italians because it tells for itself that it is written by one whom both parties may regard with confidence, as being in thought, feeling, and culture a representative Englishwoman, admirably qualified to interpret between them and make them known to each other. Though written on what some may suppose to be a well-worn theme, the book is fresh in manner and original in matter ; it is as amusing as a novel, and has the solid value belonging to a faithful and lively delineation of real life. Mrs. Gretton had been for some time a resident in Northern Italy when, three or four years ago, in her maiden days, she accepted an invitation from her uncle; an English merchant at Ancona, to spend a few months there with his family. He was a widower, with grown-up daughters born and reared in Italy, but deeply attached to the land of their an- cestors, and thoroughly English in spirit, whilst full of cordial sympathy with the people among whom their lives had been passed. A residence in such a family, before whom their Italian friends uttered without reserve the thoughts they durst hardly breathe to their nearest kindred, afforded rare opportunities for becoming acquainted with the manners and the inner life of the Pope's subjects, in -a part of his dominions which has hitherto been untrodden ground for the majority of English tourists, but which presents features of 'quaintness and originality not easily met with elsewhere. As the existence of these peculiarities is bound up with that of Papal misgovernment, Mrs. Gretton would fain anticipate their speedy extinction, though the consequence would be that in ten years after that consummation her sketches of the social and domestic condition of the Marshes would come to be looked upon as monstrous caricatures. If, on the contrary, the Marshes undergo no change of regime, she feels assured that what she has said of them will be as applicable a hundred years fence, as it was six months ago. It was from Florence that Mrs. Gretton journeyed to Ancona, and the contrast was glaring between what she left behind her in Tuscany, even in those archducal times, and what she beheld the moment she crossed the Papal frontier. Her first halt was at Forli, "one of those large, deserted, decaying cities which are to be met with at every fifteen or twenty miles distance in the Roman States, and which in their grass-grown streets, their ruined palaces, and ragged idle population, give a more sinking testimony to the workings of the dominant system than the most heart-stirring eloquence could achieve." She entered a shop to make a trifling purchase, and the old shopkeeper, upon discovering that she was English, eased his burthened heart by inveighing again those who had brought the country to so miserable a con- dition. Bad as the Austrians were, they were not the worst op- pressors ; the main evil lay in the injustice and venality of all the government officials, with whom, he observed, " a little of this,"
making a sign of fingering money," a little of this does every- thing. They are all alike, Signora mia, from the lowest impiegato to the high personage who rules the Pope as well as his subjects" —viz. Cardinal Antonelli. "Allis falling to pieces, Signora, "he
• The Englishwoman in Italy; Impressions of Life in the Roman States of Sar- dinia, during a Ten Years' Residence, By Mrs. O. Gretton. In two volumes. Published by Hurst and Sackett. added; " but who can wonder at it ? We are governed by men who have no children."
Returning to her. hotel to dine, our traveller witnessed a dis- play of that brutal insolence which cost Austria the loss of Lom- bardy and her ducal dependencies in Italy, and for which she may yet have to pay still heavier penalties.
" Our places were laid at one end of a long table, the other extremity of which was soon occupied by several white-coated Austrian infantry officer!, belonging to the Army of Occupation. They came in, clanking their swords and speaking in a loud, overbearing tone, evidently being in the
habit of frequenting the house, to judge by the free-and-easy manner in which they comported themselves. They were fortunately too far off for us to be annoyed by overhearing their conversation, except when they raised their voices to abuse the waiters, which they did in execrable Italian, but with a surprising volubility of expletives. These remarks were prefaced with, Vol pestle d'Italiano,' or something equally remaitlitelreit good taste and feeling. But this was nothing to what occurred about the
middle of the repast, when a party of Italians, two ladies and a gentleman, evidently of the upper class, our fellow travellers at the mountain-inn, en- tered the ball, and sat down opposite to us, waiting till their dinner should be brought ; for each party was separately served. Though they spoke low with an evident desire to avoid notice, the Austrians speedily discovered to what nation they belonged, as I perceived by their whispering and laughing amongst themselves, and frequent bold glances towards the
new comers. After a little time, their mirth grew more offensive, and reached an unwarrantable height, when one of the party,
loudly apostrophizing the unfortunate waiter on whom their wrath so fre- quently descended, asked him if he could tell him in what light he and all other Austrians regarded the Italians. The man's sallow cheek grew a shade paler, but he made no reply, as he busied himself in changing their plates and knives, making us much clatter as possible—so it seemed to me— to drown the voice of his interrogator. Do you not know, pestia ? ' re- iterated the officer, stamping as he spoke; then I will tell you : we all of us look upon you Italians as the dust under our feet—as the little creeping beasts we crush every moment of our lives, at every step we take—ha! ha! ha!' And then they all roared in chorus, and swore, and twirled their moustaches, and called for coffee and cigars.
I cannot describe what I felt, during this scene, for the cruel outrage on the feelings of the family who sat opposite to us. When the insult was too palpably proclaimed to admit of a doubt, the brow of the gentleman' grew
dark and lowering, and I saw by the strong hearings of his chest, and firmly- compressed lips, what bitter, unavailing struggles were at work. The ladies exchanged glances ; and the younger of the two who sat beside him, and whom I afterwards discovered to be his wife, laid her hand upon his arm, and looked up imploringly into his face. I never shall forget the look—in- dignation, sorrow, entreaty, were all so blended there. He shrank from her touch, as if irritated at a movement that might call further attention to his position ; but the moment afterwards, seeming to recollect himself, he whis- pered a few words into her ear, accompanying them with a slight movement of the shoulders, with which an Italian always indicates helplessness or des- pair."
The personal beauty of the Anconese reminded Mrs. Gretton of the Doric colonists, from whom tradition says they are descended. She is warm in her acknowledgment of their amiable qualities, gives them credit for capacities which their priestly masters take care shall lie dormant, but pourtrays with mingled sadness and humour their starved intellects, the systematic crippling of their powers to act, to feel, to think, to impart and enjoy domestic happiness, and all the vapid, aimless, hopeless existence in which they are condemned to vegetate. Fortunately, Roman tyranny is killing itself by its own excesses. Money enough to support it cannot long be obtained from subjects whose resources it extin-
guishes ; and in the Marches, as, elsewhere, the whole population, with the exception of a few imbecile codini, cordially detest the Papal Government.
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