Mrs. G. Gretton

A wedding in the Ghetto—Contrast between the state of the Christian and Hebrew population—Arrival of the post—Highway robberies—Exploits of Passatore.

A great wedding taking place during my residence in the town, in the family of one of the wealthiest Jews, my uncle, who was well known to him in the course of their commercial transactions, was invited to the ceremony, and earnestly requested to bring his signorine to witness it. As it was the only opportunity ever likely to be given us of seeing the interior of one of their houses, or of forming the least idea of the manners of the Jews, we were delighted to accept the invitation, and on the appointed day repaired to the dismal Ghetto.

The house was situated in the principal street, which was about five feet in breadth, wider far than any of the rest, and considered quite an enviable locality: it was lined with very ordinary shops, presided over by frightful old women, who darted out upon us from their dens, clamorously inviting us to purchase; and screeched and chattered in a manner which, used as we were to Italian loquacity, was yet well-nigh overpowering. The staircase was dark, very dirty, and very steep; for here the wealthiest people live on the highest floor, to enjoy more light and air; and it was not until we had climbed at least 120 steps that we reached our destination.

Two or three stout elderly ladies, all with strongly-marked Hebrew physiognomies, came out to receive us, and led the way to a saloon hung with green silk, and lighted with chandeliers, although the sun was shining: here we were introduced to about a dozen portly matrons, who, besides an unlimited amount of courtesies and compliments, kissed us on both cheeks—a salutation I could willingly have dispensed with. They all wore rich silk dresses, made high up to the throat, and magnificent diamond earrings and brooches, which, indeed, were almost the only indications of their reputed wealth that met the eye; but I have been told they are fearful of making any display of their riches, lest it should subject them to fresh extortions. The tone of their manners was decidedly vulgar, and it was impossible not to be struck with their mode of speaking Italian—their native language of course—but accompanied with a peculiar nasal intonation that was extremely disagreeable.

The bride, a very pretty girl, dressed in a light blue and white silk, with a veil and orange-blossoms, was seated on a sort of throne at the upper end of the room, surmounted by a canopy of white silk; and, as a peculiar mark of distinction, chairs were placed for us next to her. Besides ourselves, no unmarried women were present; for all the young Jewesses were kept apart, and not admitted till the conclusion of the ceremony, when they came rushing in, and saluted the bride and bridegroom in a tumultuous manner.

As for the religious rites, which commenced soon after our arrival, or rather the concluding portion, which we witnessed, for the prayers and chants had been carried on at intervals since the preceding day, I shall not attempt to describe them; for, being common alike to the whole Hebrew race, wherever settled, they cannot with propriety enter into a picture of Italian life. All the ceremonies observed on this occasion were according to ancient Jewish customs, we were told by the bride herself, who was occasionally handed down to the centre of the room, where stood the rabbi, the bridegroom, and the male relations of the parties, all wearing their hats, and black-silk horns fastened on their foreheads. Once the young pair drank wine jointly from one cup, which was immediately dashed into a brazen vessel; and at another time they stood together beneath a scarf which was held above their heads; but when not immediately taking part in what was going forward, the sposa looked on unconcerned, neither very timid, nor anxious, nor devout, and with about as much reflection on the duties of married life, I should imagine, as any of her Christian country-women in the like position. As for the women who stood round, they did not join in any of the prayers, but were evidently mere spectators, and thought the length of the service rather tedious, whispering to us over and over again that it was all'uso antico, to please the bridegroom's father, and was almost as new to them as to ourselves.

At last, after the wedding-ring had been put on—being previously tested as to the purity of the gold by a jeweller who was in attendance—a little more chanting seemed to conclude the ceremony, for there was a general move, and the bride said, “Tutto È finito per me—My part in it is over; the others,” pointing to the rabbi, and some of the old men, “have yet a few more prayers to say, but I have nothing to do with them;” then descending from her throne, she received the kisses and congratulations of all present, augmented by the onslaught of the liberated damsels, who seemed to think her the most enviable of human beings.

The whole company were then conducted for refreshment into an adjoining saloon, not illuminated like the first, where lemonade and sugar-plums were handed round, and sonnets in honour of the newly-wedded pair distributed to every guest. These poetic effusions, which are of about the same merit as the mottoes encircling bonbons at our supper-tables, seem in Ancona to be considered indispensable to every wedding; and printed copies, embellished with little emblematic wood-cuts, of a very low order of art, are profusely showered about. The poor Jews, however, were not allowed the latter privilege—they might have their sonnets if they so chose, but not printed ones; so they were fain to content themselves with elaborate specimens of calligraphy, on which the best scribes in the town had been displaying their ingenuity. The apartment in which we were assembled was very lofty and spacious, with six large windows, through which the sun found its way cheerily enough, and a domed ceiling, painted, as well as the walls, in fresco, with scenes from the Old Testament, embellished with a profusion of gilding and handsome chandeliers; but as a contrast to all this magnificence, the floor was of brick, and the furniture merely benches, while dust and dirt met the eye in every direction. Some of the family accounted for this apparent inconsistency, by telling us they were not rich enough to fit it up in a style analogous to the decorations; but the real motives we ascribed to a fear of drawing too much attention to their means of expenditure. This, however, had nothing to do with the absence of brooms and scouring-pails, so curiously apparent, which confirmed the charge the Anconitans triumphantly brought forward against their Hebrew neighbours, of want of cleanliness; and certainly, if aught could surpass their own shortcomings on that score, things must have been in a woful condition!

Before we went away, they insisted on showing us the house, which contained nothing further worthy of remark, except the presents for the bride, spread out upon a long table, and seeming to consist principally of innumerable loaves of sugar and bundles of wax candles, tied together with gay-coloured ribbons. There were also one or two large cakes, stuck all over with pins and brooches, none, however, of any great value. The bedrooms were scantily furnished, without any attempt at comfort or elegance, and miserably dark, for they looked into a side-street, where the opposite houses appeared crushing in upon us, communicating a horrible sense of suffocation, and bringing to my mind the German legend of the prisoner who was gradually stifled in a dungeon that daily narrowed itself round him.

I was so tormented with this notion, that it was quite a relief when our visit came to a conclusion; and emerging from the mazes of the Ghetto, we found ourselves on the Piazza del Teatro, which looked quite spacious and animated in comparison. A stream of vetture, carts, porters carrying merchandize, soldiers, priests, and all the motley population of an Italian town, were constantly passing and repassing through this square, furnishing food for amusing observation to the gioventÙ, who usually sunned themselves on benches outside the caffÈ, or, on those rare occasions when it rained, sought refuge in an opposite cigar shop—quite an aristocratic resort—where, swinging upon the counter, or leaning against the door, they gazed complacently at all that was going on, and discussed the news and scandal of the day. Without a future to look forward to, without a present—unless this miserable frittering away of existence day after day, and year after year, can be so called—they yet seem in that genial sunshine, beneath that bright blue sky, to forget their poverty, the gloom of their political condition, and the degradation of their country. Perhaps the Government has a deep motive in so grievously oppressing its Hebrew subjects; for the others, in considering the fate of these Helots of the land, may think themselves comparatively well off, and sit down contented with their lot.

As the hour draws near for the arrival of the post, a little more stir is perceptible; and when, only a few hours behind its time, a lumbering diligence containing the mail-bags makes its appearance, a crowd follows to the office, and impatiently awaits the distribution of the letters. Those persons who are expecting friends are here also, of course, drawn up in readiness to receive them, and you see the most affectionate greetings interchanged between tall black-bearded men, who loudly kiss each other on both cheeks, and pour forth their expressions of delight at meeting, with a volubility no Englishman could ever attain. It is a pleasant feature in their character—not the kissing, but the kindness with which they always go forth to welcome a friend's arrival, or speed him on his travels. An Italian would think it hard, indeed, to return from an absence of even a few days without finding somebody awaiting him; and as to his departure, a perfect train always attends the adventurous traveller who sets out on an expedition to Rome or Florence, quite as much sensation being excited as there would be amongst us were he going for an indefinite period to the Arctic regions.

The perils of the road may, however, be brought forward to account for the importance attached to any feat of locomotion, and the congratulations attending the wanderer's safe return; for it is by no means uncommon for the passengers to announce, as they emerge from the diligence into the arms of their rejoicing friends, that they were waylaid and robbed somewhere near Bologna, or else between Forli and Rimini, that very unpromising region I passed through on my journey from Florence to Ancona. These events were of too frequent occurrence to excite much attention; still, any interesting particulars concerning them never failed to find their way into every circle, and we used to hear the details either at the houses of our acquaintances, or else when they came to fare un whist (play a rubber) at my uncle's, and were initiated into the mysteries of the game which he had introduced that winter among them. To obtain an insight into this new pursuit, supposed exclusively a British pastime, the greatest ardour was displayed; many of the societÀ took to studying the Vade Mecum—a little pocket-guide to whist—with laudable perseverance, carrying it always about with them, and questioning each other concerning the progress they had made; while the zest with which they assembled to put in practice the theory so diligently acquired, materially assisted in dispelling the monotony of Lent.

These little assemblies were very lively and sociable. Tea was drunk by the very conscientious without milk, while they heroically abstained from ploomkek; and after the customary bows and complimentary phrases, the conversation became very animated. Anecdotes of robberies were of course rife on such occasions. “By the by, marchese,” said a card-player one evening, “this reminds me of that story of the man who singly robbed thirteen people: do you remember it?”

“E come!” was the reply; “it did not happen so many years ago, and was, besides, the drollest thing I ever heard of. He hung up a number of hats and cloaks among the bushes on the wayside, with poles projecting, which in the dim uncertain twilight looked like men drawn up with guns presented. He then fastened a cord right across the road, and awaited the diligence, the horses of which, encountering this obstacle, were of course thrown down, and all was terror and confusion. At this moment, our friend rushed forward, shouting, as if to his followers, 'Attenti, figliuoli! but do not fire till I give the word!' and demanded their purses and watches from the passengers, threatening them with an instantaneous volley if they did not at once comply. They were all so completely taken by surprise, and so glad, moreover, to be let off thus easily, that they obeyed without a moment's hesitation, and the contents of their pockets were quickly handed to the captain of that formidable band, who, in return, raised the struggling horses, and dismissed them amicably on their way, rejoicing at their escape from rougher usage. Ah, he was a genius, that man! He had the makings of a Napoleon! It was a pity he was taken and hanged, for he had committed no murder, and, according to law, his punishment should have been imprisonment; but an exception was made in his case—the Government was so angry at his stratagem.”

“Well, that is an amusing story,” said the little contessa. “I had quite forgotten it, so that it is as new to me as to the 'Signorina forestiera,'” smiling at me, whose spirit of inquiry always excited her amazement. “At any rate, he was a harmless sort of creature, this hero of yours, caro marchese, not like that dreadful Passatore who ravaged all Romagna lately.”

This led to an account of many of the feats of this freebooter and his band, who for nearly two years had infested the country, and rendered property and travelling very insecure. His most celebrated exploit was taking possession of the theatre at Forlimpopoli, a small town a few miles to the south of Forli, on the high-road to Cesena.

It was an evening in the Carnival of 1851. The spectators were assembled, the orchestra had tuned their instruments, and the curtain drew up. Instead of the usual performers, the stage was occupied by Passatore and his followers, armed to the teeth. He was as polite, however, as circumstances permitted; and addressing the terrified audience, begged them not to be alarmed, nor to be so rash as to attempt any resistance: a superfluous recommendation, seeing that the whole population could not have mustered a single weapon, offensive or defensive, amongst them.

Passatore then called, one by one, on the principal personages who were present, and requested they would repair to their homes, under the escort of some of his men, and deliver up all their valuables.

While this was going on, none but those he named were permitted to leave the theatre. As the booty was brought in, it was all deposited on the stage at his feet, until every one who had anything to lose had been laid under contribution. He then rose, bowed his thanks, and wishing them a “buon divertimento,” retired.

His career is supposed to have ended in a skirmish with Austrian troops; but his body not having been secured by the conquerors, considerable mystery for a long time hung over his fate. The remnants of his band continued their old calling, and kept up the bad reputation of the roads in Romagna and the Marche. Near Ancona country houses were often attacked; and in some districts, proprietors were fain to compromise with them for the payment of a certain sum annually. Not having any means of defending their property, they were completely at the brigands' mercy.

These facts ought to have furnished more food for melancholy than amusement; but they did not come amiss to the societÀ. And thus laughing, talking, pausing in their play to relate some new evidence of their country's miserable condition, or rallying each other upon an oversight in the game, the evening would pass on, with as many variations as the light and shadow cast by a tree stirred in the autumn wind; and if I seem to shift waywardly from one subject to another in delineating the Italian character, it is that this apparent instability is required to give greater accuracy to my picture, and truthfulness to its details.