Edward Lear,the Illustrated Excursions in Italy and the Making of a Tourist Imaginary

1. In his Life of Samuel Johnson (1791), James Boswell recalls an observation by Johnson which has become famous: “A journey to Italy was still in his thought. He said: ‘A man who has not been in Italy, is always conscious of an inferiority, from his not having seen what it is expected a man should see’” (Boswell, 1987: 742) ¹ . In a sense, these words may be regarded as the cornerstone of that complex structure of feelings, suggestions and motivations which contributed to the mythologizing of Italy in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. This did not mean that the notion of the Grand Tour did not coincide with Italy, which was undoubtedly regarded as the land of art, nature and humanity. What Johnson's opinion expresses in a quintessential way is that the multifaceted glory of Italy cannot be separated from a formation whose fundamental aim is a global appropriation of culture in terms of Bildung, that is a high degree of knowledge for a life founded on a combination of learning and vocation free from any form of Johnsonian “inferiority”.

The increasing importance in the sociocultural relationship between England and Italy in the Victorian period cannot be overemphasized. Italy had become an essential place that no one on a Grand Tour could avoid visiting. It is also worthwhile underlining that, geographically speaking, Italy by no means represented a single political nationhood, even though it was culturally a quasi-coherent entity. The closer one looks into this aspect, the more one realises the existence of two Italies. Under the British eye, was the well-known geographic space whose routes were essentially connected with the Grand Tour and which included cities such as Florence, Venice, Rome, Naples, and Palermo. This “official” country not only offered wonderful locations but also British communities ready to welcome their fellow countrymen. But there was also the other Italy, whose provinces were never included in the main routes of the Grand Tour and which foreigners were not usually enticed to visit.

Despite this reticence to change their itineraries, some British travellers began to discover this different Italy, which, in geographical terms, simply meant the Adriatic side of the Peninsula, partly spurred by their spirit of adventure, partly inspired by the reading of unconventional travelogues. To put it in another way, in the early decades of the nineteenth century, the British traveler began to modify the map of Italian itineraries, and, in doing so, opened the way to new possible excursions. Needless to say, these were a real temptation for those Britons who wanted to abandon the trodden paths: “Until well into 1870s travelling Victorians followed the itinerary of the eighteenth-century Grand Tour, devoting their time (save for a week or so in Venice on the outward journey) to the Tyrrhenian side of the Apennines and ignoring the Adriatic coast” (Pemble, 1987: 41). ²

The emergence of this new geography of the Grand Tour may be assigned to the changing tastes of the Victorians. The change of attitude also included the fascination for wild and unknown areas of the peninsula which were mainly situated on the mid-Adriatic coast. In this regard, the Abruzzi became an appealing destination, however harsh and difficult it may have been to reach. Its towns and villages, as well as its natural landscape, would be a real revelation for British travellers, who, stimulated by artistic and intellectual initiatives, were eager to discover innovative aspects of a nation which was regarded as one of the cradles of civilization. What is evident is that this new part of Italy created a new tourist imaginary which, in a way, broadened the concept of the Grand Tour in British public opinion.

2. This change of perspective implied that the Abruzzi were now part of this new tourist mapping which was, albeit gradually, considering the Adriatic coast as an exciting destination. There were many English travellers who were by no means dependent on orthodox approaches in organizing their Grand Tour; in their response to the new possibilities offered by the alternative routes, places and populations they eschewed traditional ways of travelling. Certainly, Edward Lear followed this heterodox line in his desire to discover landscapes and peoples which were very different from the stereotyped models featured by the British press. He had heard that many noble monuments and castles, which had been destroyed by time and wars, still retained their pristine magnificence in the Abruzzi, not to mention the sublimity of their natural landscapes. During his stay in Rome, Lear had also absorbed many images and suggestions which he treasured in his mind and produced in his drawings. Needless to say he was delighted by the degree to which his artistic experience was being enlarged as a result. As Jenny Uglow observes, “apart from occasional homesickness, Lear was happy. He drank in the beauty and history of the city, the blue blaze of the sky, the water splashing in mossy fountain, the long shadows of columns in the gold light of sunset” (Uglow, 2018: 118). After discovering the splendors of Rome and receiving the generous hospitality of the Knights, an English family living in Rome, Lear intended to consider the possibility of visiting those provinces which lay east of Rome, thus avoiding the usual route leading from Rome to Naples and, possibly, Sicily. He was already aware that the Abruzzi had many things to offer to his eye. Not only had he read Keppel Craven's writings published in 1837, but he was also following his own temperament. He preferred going against the grain and the notion of novelty triggered in him a series of artistic and cultural inspirations.

Lear was spurred by various reasons and desires to opt for a different route towards the Apennines and the breathtaking Gran Sasso Mountain. Thus, together with Charles Knight, he took the road that led to Rieti and Antrodoco where the two men soon found themselves in what was at that time the Kingdom of Naples. Indeed, it was Lear's plan to enjoy the new landscape and draw as much of it as possible. After having greatly admired the Eternal City, he felt this sort of excursion was important for his artistic development. However, to be precise, it had been his travelling companion who suggested the Abruzzi as a gratifying destination. It must also be added that Charles Knight's sister had married the Duke of Sermoneta and that, unsurprisingly, the Knight family had an important role in the British community in Rome. In connection with the first idea of this excursion, Montgomery observes:

[Charles Knight] now suggested a joint expedition on horseback into the mountains of the Abruzzi. Lear was keen to mine the area for fresh landscapes, but he nursed a phobia of horses that was only marginally less powerful than his fear of dogs. Knight, however, proved a more than a competent tutor, for his pupil was soon boasting to Gould that “I am unexpectedly become a tolerable horseman”. (2005: 61) ³

These words to his good friend John Gould can only be understood in one way: Lear's wish to visit the Abruzzi had prevailed over his phobia of horses. The exulting way in which he describes his horse-riding sheds much light on the enthusiasm with which this new trip began. Naturally, his luggage included a notebook in which he intended to jot down his impressions and draw some extemporary sketches as his journey progressed with the consequent discovery of new people, new towns, villages and landscapes. As is known, his notebook would be eventually published as Illustrated Excursions in Italy which begins with Lear's anxiety as he embarks on his journey on horseback to discover the Abruzzi provinces:

It was not without experiencing many delays that we were at last enabled to begin our long-proposed tour in the Abruzzi, or three Northern provinces of the kingdom of Naples. The plan arranged was, first, that we should gain a general idea of our ground on horseback, and afterwards that I should proceed alone on foot to sketch and examine details. C. K. lent me this Arab (by name Gridiron), he is riding the iron-gray; and, having sent my luggage to Rieti, we started from Frascati, with our valigie strapped before our saddles, on as brilliant a morning as one could desire for the beginning of a long journey. (Lear, 1846: 1)

The first pages of the Excursions evince the spirit of a traveller who had already read some books in order to be well informed both geographically and socially. It was important for Lear to understand the reality he was going to visit in order to focus his attention carefully on the history of each town and its monuments, noble palaces, castles and ruins. This sort of preparation appeared to Lear all the more necessary because he was on his way to places of which very little was known at the time. In this sense, he was moving along an itinerary that has been rightly defined anti-tour (Antinucci, 2012–2013: 167–168). Implicitly, Lear's travelling decision seemed to challenge the traditional approach to Italian culture and society since this sort of journey, with all its unknown elements, was a new way of reading the immense patrimony of history and knowledge that Italy represented to the whole Western world. However, there is another point to consider here. Underlying the aspect concerning Lear's historical and geographical documentation, with his desire to culturally appropriate the reality he was visiting as a foreign traveller, is a need for order which, apparently, seemed to counterbalance his romantic drives as well as a sort of erratic tendency of his mind to continually oscillate between enthusiasm and disappointment, exaltation and depression.

A very indicative example concerns Lear's point of view with respect to the habits of the Abruzzese shepherds. In particular, their nomadic life strikes his imagination, arousing many suggestions in his mind. On closer inspection, his response clearly contrasts with Keppel Craven's interpretation of these shepherds since he describes them as sad, lonely figures, always imbued with earnestness, melancholy and suffering:

When following the calling of shepherds, […] as I saw them, in the duties of their charge in travelling, their countenances are almost invariably marked by the same expression, which combines mildness and sagacity with immovable gravity, and, it is painful to add, a look of deep-seated sadness; the whole caravan, animal as well as human, exhibiting, at least while engaged in one of those tedious peregrinations, a general appearance of suffering and depression, distinguishable in every individual that composes it. (Craven, 1838: I: 261–262. My italics.)

Craven's words characterise the nomadic life of the Abruzzese shepherds as part of a more general condition of inner suffering and tedium whose psychological dimension belongs to “the caravan” while moving towards greener and less cold provinces in what is commonly called transumanza ⁴ , transhumance, whose routes were as old as time. In his travelogue, Craven seems to express his own interpretation of this seasonal grazing without a direct contact with the protagonists of this social and economic phenomenon, and he evidently bases his reflections on what he merely saw. On the contrary, Lear's Excursions almost explicitly contests Craven's descriptions which to him seem based on a negative approach and a prejudiced reading of the transhumance. As Lear observes: “to me the whole picture is one of pastoral and cheerful industry, and the life of the Abruzzese Pecoraro is the beau ideal of a shepherd's existence” (Lear, 1846: 9). Lear undoubtedly assumes another perspective on the pecorari and the peculiarities of their daily life. Thus, harking back in time, he configures an Arcadia in which the beauty of the landscape prevails over the many hardships of their nomadic existence as well as the many problems and inconveniences that pertain to the practical way of effecting the transumanza. Whereas Craven evokes a sort of romantic melancholy connected with the seasonal migration of Abruzzese shepherds, Lear's view is very different: he discovers a poetic landscape in which he sees the zampognari and happy shepherds enjoying an endless gorgeous summer:

On his native mountains his amusement is playing on the bagpipes or samboni, whose long-drawn notes you may hear hour after hour in the summer days, an accompaniment of indescribable romance to those poetical scenes. In the plains of the Campagna you will observe him knitting stockings, or reading some book of a devotional character. Altogether a more inoffensive and contended race of beings I never met with, though they certainly are more sedate in their deportment than the noisy denizens of Naples. (Lear, 1846: 9–10)

The portrait of the pecorari presented in the Excursions seems to derive its meaning from those writings, images and drawings Lear had stored in his mind as a result of an idealizing vision whose cultural interface were the images and descriptions of an Arcadian world which for some decades had nourished the Victorian frame of mind. Thus, Lear the painter never worries about having a first-hand knowledge of the shepherds he sees and meets during his passage through valleys and hamlets. It goes without saying that he observes this world from a distance with his notebook and pencil in hand, without trying to understand the hardships that the pecorari he admires must face when the sun does not shine and spring is far behind. It therefore comes as no surprise that, many years later, in 1864, the image of the shepherd with the zampogna will come back to life in his memory, permeated with strong nostalgic feelings: “What memories these Abruzzi bagpipes recall—masterfully!!” (Lear, 1858–1888: 29 December 1864). In short, Lear's painterly gaze does not succeed in going beyond the sort of portrait – preconceived and preconstructed – that he had already construed in his mind as a landscape painter on the trail of new suggestions and enthusing emotion. In this case, we may maintain with Oscar Wilde that “Life imitates art” (Wilde, 1985: 307).

3. At this juncture it must be pointed out that Excursions reveals another aspect of Lear on the very first day of his journey, that is, July 27, 1834. With the aim of placing it within exact historical and geopolitical coordinates and possibly with the intention of a sort of barrier to his fantasizing vein, Lear gives full evidence that he has amply read and studied before setting out for the Abruzzi whose territories and peoples were completely unknown to him and to Charles Knight. His documentary accuracy concerns not only the variety of toponyms of towns and villages along his route, but also the detailed political history of the nine provinces that were established by Frederick II, king of Sicily, in the twelfth century. After this early division, Lear observes that “[i]n A.D. 1273, the province of Abruzzo was further divided into Abruzzo Citeriore and Ulteriore, by King Charles I of Anjou. The latter of these was again subdivided into Ulteriore Primo and Secondo by the Marchese di Carpio in A. D. 1684” (Lear, 1846: 8). After providing all the names of the provincial capitals and specifying the size of the population, Lear is very precise in explaining to the reader the names of the neighbouring territories in order to give the measure of the isolation in which the rural and urban communities of the Abruzzi lived: “the provinces of the three Abruzzi are bounded on the north and west by the States of the Church, on the east by the Adriatic, and on the south by the Neapolitan counties of Terra di Lavoro and Molise or Campobasso” (Lear, 1846: 8).

Here it may be worth explaining that the toponym Terra di Lavoro corresponded to that large expanse of fertile land ranging from Capua to Caserta, which was commonly identified as Campania felix or ager Campanus at the time of the Romans. In addition to a detailed description of the region he is about to explore, Lear offers an ethnographic representation of the populations inhabiting the Abruzzi, showing how a multiplicity of ethnic groups are significantly expressions of diverse traditions and histories. Thus, far from being a socially dull and ethnically uniform area, the region is a geographic space whose complex cultural and political history is no less significant than that of the more visited and celebrated regions of Italy. That is why an elated and joyous Lear can jot down in his notebook: “the history of Celano possesses a great deal of interest; and the life of one of its Countesses, Covella, would alone furnish romance enough for a volume” (Lear, 1846: 25).

A recurrent element in the narration of Excursions concerns the documents necessary for the transition from one province to another – which was an index of the political fragmentation of the whole area. In this sense, Lear soon discovers that there is always some problem to tackle. To the vicissitudes of the excursions are added the vicissitudes of the local bureaucracy and, consequently, the two travellers on horseback are often delayed, one moment because the “Carte di Passo” were not valid for that town and its surroundings, another because their passports are considered suspicious by too zealous a policeman. The fact remains that, thanks to his letters of presentation, he was often received cordially and generously by the people of the places he visited. More often than not, the noble families of the place where they stopped to rest did not hesitate to help him and Charles Knight, especially when they found themselves in difficulty. Considering the high sense of duty attached to the principle of hospitality towards two important foreigners, the episode narrated by Lear under the entry dated July 28, 1943, comes as no surprise:

On asking for a Locanda, we were directed to the first family of the town, the De’ Gasparis, who had resided there for several centuries; to whose house we went, and asked boldly for aid for ourselves and horses. This was cheerfully given, though we were strangers, and without any letter of recommendation: Don Serafino […] doing the honours of his establishment, a small but decent dwelling, with great friendliness. (Lear, 1846: 22)

Hence, the notables of the places he visits, far from being suspicious and standoffish at the sight of two foreigners on horseback, are always ready to open the doors of their mansions and receive them with all honours. Tellingly, Lear does not seem to be surprised by such hospitality as he has quickly understood that this is a peculiar characteristic of the local eminent people who never hesitate to show off their social power and prestige.

In conclusion, it would be interesting to mention some aspects of the Abruzzi of which Lear expresses his negative judgement. In this sense, it may be worth citing what he writes on Scanno and its people on 10 September 1843. Both Lear and Knight receive a warm welcome as well as generous hospitality by a respectable and well-off family in Villalago on which he observes: “[…] they are the principal people in this little town, and I cannot conceive a much less comfortable residence than their palazzo” (Lear, 1846: 92). In fact, one of the recurring motifs in Excursions concerns the sanitary condition of the houses and hotels in which he sleeps, although he always tends to soften the severity of his remarks, without explicitly, and scandalously, exposing his embarrassment and physical discomfort. Yet, in almost all the inns and houses in which he and his travelling companion are staying, Lear complains of dirt and, frequently, of poor hygiene as well as of the absence of suitable toilets. In his fault-finding attitude concerning the theme of hygiene, the writer seems to forget that Italy is not Britain in terms of industrialization and progress. In the forties Victorian England was considered the workshop of the world and, from an economic angle, the industrial revolution was an important factor of progress and increasing wealth for the new emerging classes. On the contrary, Italy was still a land characterised by ruralism and vast areas of extreme poverty. Central and southern Italy was especially distinguished by areas of great backwardness in which people shared the same rooms with their animals. With respect to Lear's response to what he sees daily in the Abruzzi, it is necessary to distinguish the landscape painter's gaze from that of the foreigner traveller. Characteristically, when he observes the scene from a distance, as an artist anxious to admire breathtaking vistas, the search for the sublime and the picturesque prevails in him. Then, everything around him is coloured with romance; what amazes him seems to recall at one moment the pastoral paintings of Claude Lorrain, and at another an apocalyptic scene by John Martin. Yet, when the practical necessities of his daily life as a traveller prevail, when he is directly involved and in close relations with people, his aesthetic judgement becomes a moral judgement. This explains why he cannot help expressing his discomfort in his travelogue. As a result, the anguish he feels in sleeping in a room without a toilet and running water is projected onto the people of the hamlet or village where he is staying and his words are no longer those of bucolic praise for the life of the “pecorari”.

In this connection, it is interesting to note that, immediately after the entry in his journal concerning his various inconveniences, Lear unsurprisingly describes the scenery he can observe from a window of the building, in which he is driven by the desire to implicitly highlight the contrast between the beauty of nature and the dwellings of ordinary people: “[…] its only recommendation is, that, placed on a perpendicular height, it commands one of the most extraordinary views I ever saw, down the ghastly gorge I have been describing” (Lear, 1846: 92). ⁵ Evidently, the uniqueness of the admired landscape seems to be something absolutely antithetical to the material life led by the villagers of Villalago and Scanno. As I have just noticed, perhaps with a hint of exaggeration, Lear deplores the lack of hygiene:

Although these good people were hospitable in their way, truth obliges one to say that the uncleanliness of both house and owners was something uncommon; and this, united to a curiosity unique as far as my experience went among the Abruzzese, was depressing and uncomfortable. (Lear, 1846: 92)

Ultimately, another aspect that Lear is apt to decry in the local people's behaviour is their curiosity. He is much concerned by the inquiring eyes he sees around him and Knight when he makes a short stop or decides to stay overnight in a place and finds this sort of intrusive attitude a little disturbing. However, in truth, his response is rather naive since it would have been only too normal for Lear and Knight to attract the curiosity of the small communities of the villages they passed through on their journey. Undoubtedly two English travellers on horseback were actually something unusual; they configured – whether at Città Sant’Angelo, or Chieti or Villalago – two extraordinary figures not immune to a certain bizarre air, almost like a circus show. However, Lear only rarely reveals his most authentic feelings, nor does he ever pause to give an in-depth description of his artistic response before the many magnificent sceneries he has the chance to admire.

From a close reading of his Excursions there undoubtedly emerges the image of a sympathetic, sensitive and humane artist and writer who is always ready to enjoy his encounters with new people as a way of enriching his own experiences. This is evident at the end of his stay in the Abruzzi in October 1844, when Lear uses words that give the measure of his bond with the world he is about to leave: “these days I passed in Aquila, hoping for finer weather, now and then tantalized by a day of sunshine, though the morrow was surely wet, so that after several disappointments, I finally decided to return to Rome, leaving the Teramana unexplored, my churches undrawn, and my good Marsican friends unrevisited” (Lear, 1846: 138).