1816: the Grandest Tour

Italy: Chapter 6

Finally out of the Alpine hurly-burly, the carriage descended into the rolling countryside of the Friulian lowlands and the tourists marked even more contrasts. Not only was the speech they heard now firmly Italic, the very trees and vegetation were different. It was still unseasonably cold: summer had gone without coming at all, and no one could explain it. But even a cooler Italy was a friendlier climate than the Austrian Alps. George began to notice features in the scenery he'd only ever seen in paintings – Italian landscapes, of course. It was now undeniable. They were here!

Udine was a larger city than they'd expected, of easily fifty thousand souls. As they clattered over the medieval streets George, Tobias and Isaac stuck their heads out to admire the old buildings crowded together and observe the people. Emerging from the hills they'd run into a light drizzle, which stayed fairly constant as they rolled through the city. This did nothing to deter the many locals they saw walking and riding around them, who were clearly used to their share of rain.

Despite George's first impression, the closer he listened to snatches of speech the less anyone seemed to be speaking "Italian." At Cambridge he'd attempted to read a bit of Dante and Ariosto in the original, and this had given him an expectation of what the language sounded like. Yet the speech he heard on the streets was certainly not that of Dante, and he could hardly pick out a word of it. Tobias had noticed this too, and pulled out his guidebook for the region. Here they discovered that in Friuli the local dialect was known, quite sensibly, as Friulian. While it was a close relative of the Tuscan and Roman dialects it had many distinct features and sounds, and George started to wonder if even Tobias would be able to make them understood.

They drove to the most prosperous-looking quarter of town and before long had found a suitable hotel. Everyone agreed that after such lengthy travel days they could all use a few restful nights in one place. The other unspoken reason was that a string of nights together would give the boys time to plot their escape from the infernal guide Otto. To this end they arranged, contrary to custom, for the Salzburger to have his own room. When the man protested, George did his best to dress the gesture up as an appreciation of his excellent service.

The following day showed them Udine indeed boasted monuments and heritage enough to satisfy any discerning tourist. Their first target was the Palazzo Patriarcale, a grand Renaissance palace overlooking the old medieval quarter from a commanding hill. As they climbed the hill up gently sloping stairs, Tobias read from his guide that the Palazzo was not in fact the residence of any great prince or potentate. Instead it had once hosted the council of the Patria del Friuli, one of the oldest parliaments on the Continent, until 1797 when it was snuffed out by a young General Bonaparte.

On reaching the top of the stairs they were stopped by a guard who said entry was impossible. The disappointed group asked why, and was told the once-proud palace was now serving the Austrian rulers as a prison.

"A illustrative state of affairs you might say," George muttered as they tramped back down to the square.

"I don't follow," said Tobias.

"What I mean is," George said in English lest Otto overhear, "the Prince Regent's countrymen seem to have turned whole regions of Italy into their private prison-camp."

"Yes, quite," said Tobias with a furrowed brow. "Well let's sit for a moment so I can read you this legend about the city's founding at least. It relates to this hill we've just been up and down."

The base of the steps had a stone ledge, so the others sat down and listened.

"It says this happened in about 452 AD," Tobias began. "'Having sacked the prosperous Roman city of Aquileia, Attila the Hun needed a winter camp for his barbarian horde. He settled on the present site of Udine, but the flatness of the country all around displeased him. Accordingly he directed his whole army to fill their helmets and shields with earth, and to build the hill on which the Palazzo Patriarcale now stands. Attila claimed he wanted a vantage from which to watch Aquileia burn, but an equal motivation was probably to create a defensible encampment.' Well!" said Tobias. "What do you make of all that?"