The Innocents Abroad

Milan is the next city on the itinerary. Twain waxes rhapsodic about the cathedral, which he terms “the princeliest creation that ever brain of man conceived” (123). At the same time, the sights in the crypt underneath the main altar, which contains the tombs of such famous people as St. Charles Borromeo, sober him.

Led by their English-mangling guide, the travelers visit the Arch of Peace, then go on to La Scala, the world’s largest opera house. Next comes the Ambrosian Library, which occasions Twain to disapprove the historic romance between Petrarch and Laura.

A fine dinner followed by a leisurely walk down a popular street leads Twain to contrast European ease of life with American hurry and drive. He wishes that business-minded Americans could absorb some of the more graceful European ways.

Twain and some friends take a bath in a public bathhouse, where they discover yet again to their dismay that soap is not available and must be specially sent for. Twain comments on the amusingly mangled English found in printed public notices in Europe. An example of this is found on a placard accompanying Leonardo da Vinci’s Last Supper, which Twain and his friends next visit. Twain finds the artwork sadly deteriorated by the ravages of time.

Finally, Twain and his group go to stay at a stone hotel two miles outside of Milan, where they see demonstrated an amazing echo effect out of the hotel window. 

The travelers leave Milan and visit Lake Como. Although it is beautiful, Twain finds Lake Como inferior to Lake Tahoe in America. A less pleasant part of this experience is their “fumigation” by the local police to guard against cholera. The guards lock Twain and his companions in a dark, airless, and putrid-smelling stone cell for several minutes before being set free. 

After traveling by steamer down the Lago di Lecco, Twain and some friends ride in a carriage through the Italian countryside to the town of Bergamo. On the way he observes the idleness of the Italian peasantry and the crude artistry of saintly shrines along the road. The driver tells a flowery legend from the Middle Ages about a Count Luigi. The party arrives in Bergamo, then takes the train to the Lago di Garda, visits Padua and Verona, and then proceeds to Venice. 

The travelers reach Venice in the evening and go by gondola to their hotel, the Hôtel d’Europe. Twain is extremely impressed with the beauty and romance of Venice, especially that night when he witnesses a grand moonlight fête in honor of a saint. Two thousand gondolas with colored lanterns are present, along with music of all kinds. During the ensuing days, the party visits the Ducal Palace, St. Mark’s, and the Bridge of Sighs—and the gloomy prison cells beneath the bridge, below water level, where many a miserable prisoner ended his days. 

Twain describes how the Venetian gondola works, then discusses the cheerful and convivial atmosphere on St. Mark’s Square. He then digresses to talk about Americans who have been so long abroad that they began to forget their native language or drop foreign phrases unconsciously into their English after they return home.

A visit to the Basilica di Santa Maria Gloriosa dei Frari (the church of Santa Maria dei Frari) occasions Twain to vent some of his misgivings and frustrations about “old master” art. He laments the fact that the old painters depicted the same saints and martyrs in the same way countless times, and he wishes that they had turned their hand to picturing historical events from their own time, such as Columbus’s discovery of America. Twain and his friends make great efforts to understand and appreciate the art of the “old masters,” and while they have gained some knowledge, Twain admits that his own appreciation is limited.

The passengers’ tour guide is a black man from South Carolina, the son of a slave, who has lived in Italy since childhood and feels that blacks receive better treatment in Venice than in the United States (to which Twain agrees). He is very cultured, well dressed, and knowledgeable about art.

Back at the hotel, Twain has another hair-raising experience with a barber giving him a shave. In leaving the “Queen of the Republics” (178), Twain contrasts the heroic and chivalrous character of old Venice with the effeminate, pleasure-seeking ways of the present-day city. 

Twain’s experience of Florence is mostly unpleasant, despite the beautiful art and mosaics and the presence of Dante’s tomb. He gets lost at night, wanders all the way to the gates of the city, and a soldier must conduct him to his hotel in the early hours of the morning.

The travelers go on to Pisa, site of the Leaning Tower, then the seaside city of Leghorn. Some of the party go to pay a friendly visit to General Garibaldi, but the Italian government suspects that the visit is a cover for a conspiracy. Accordingly, a police watch stations at the harbor to monitor the American travelers’ activities. 

Twain is amazed that despite economic bankruptcy, the Italian government can still produce splendidly efficient railways and roads—a phenomenon that means more personally to Twain than Italy’s art treasures. However, Twain realizes that the country is spending more than it is taking in. He applauds the government’s decision to remedy the situation by confiscating Church property in the form of priestly farms, factories, and land. Twain argues that Italy has for too long built up richly adorned churches at the expense of her poorest citizens.

The next stop on the tour is Civitavecchia, which Twain finds to be “the finest nest of dirt, vermin, and ignorance we have found yet except that African perdition they call Tangier, which is just like it” (192). The party passes on to Rome. 

Twain argues that Rome holds no fresh discoveries for him, whereas America would hold many fresh discoveries for an inhabitant of the Roman campagna. Twain rhetorically imagines a Roman peasant wondering at the democratic institutions of America: its freedom, tolerance, and abundance.

The travelers visit St. Peter’s Basilica. Twain finds it overly colossal, its uniformly vast scale leaving no point of comparison. A view of the building that once housed the Inquisition leads Twain to compare the ancient Romans’ persecution of Christians with the Inquisition’s persecution of heretics. The party visits the sites associated with St. Peter’s imprisonment and death.

Next comes the Coliseum, which Twain connects with the persecution of the Christians and considers, for this reason, a holy site. Thinking of the Roman circuses leads him to construct a parody of it using the language and style modern-day show business. 

As the Roman leg of the journey continues, Twain rambles on various topics, including a young lawyer who went to “rough it” in Nevada, and the exasperating ubiquity of Michelangelo’s artwork in Italy. Twain and his friends torment their French guide with sarcastic faux-naive questions, like asking whether the people represented by various statues are dead.

The companions visit the catacombs, where the early Christians hid out and prayed. Twain comments with amazement at the belief in the miraculous some modern writers exhibit. 

Twain and his friends witness a macabre spectacle in visiting the Capuchin convent, where the bones of dead monks adorn the apartments. The travelers pass on to the Vatican apartments. Twain reflects that the reason he finds little enjoyment in viewing art in Italy is its chaotic presentation. He compares this with the smaller, more manageable collection in the Academy of Fine Arts in New York.

In visiting the Church of St. John Lateran (the mother church of Catholicism) Twain observes that the saints seem at times to receive more importance in Roman churches than God, Christ, or the Holy Ghost.

Twain leaves Rome in a mood of jaded fatigue over the city’s faded glory. 

Twain and his companions arrive in Naples by train and find that their ship has been quarantined at the harbor for fear of an outbreak of disease. Thus, Twain and his friends can enjoy Naples and Mount Vesuvius while their fellow travelers must stare longingly at the city from the boat.

In the nearby town of Annunciation, Twain complains that the citizens charge money for trivial services like opening doors and brushing clothes. Back in Naples, the behavior of the upper classes at the San Carlo opera house—jeering at the performance of an aging, formerly beloved female opera star—shocks Twain. He rails against what he considers the phony miracle of the liquefaction of the blood of St. Januarius (Gennaro), piously believed in by many Neapolitans. Then, the company begins to make the ascent up Mount Vesuvius, with a magnificent view of a gaslit Naples below. 

This chapter continues Twain’s impressions of Naples and the ascent of Mount Vesuvius. In Naples, Twain marvels at the crowded conditions, for which the houses are built especially high. He visits and is impressed by the Blue Grotto on the island of Capri. The ascent to Vesuvius is steep and rugged, but the company enjoys a grand view at the summit, although the presence of thick mists compromises the view. The descent takes only four minutes as the company goes by a different route, through soft ash. 

Twain visits Pompeii and the famous ruins created by the eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 CE. He is impressed and moved by the ruined streets, houses, theaters, and schools of the once thriving seaside town, and especially by the fear-stricken lava casts of dying people. These sights lead Twain to meditate in a melancholy yet humorous mood on the transience of all earthly things.