THE BRIDGE AT CREVOLA was said to be nearly one hundred feet tall, with two piers of twenty yards’ width, and linked the Simplon with Gries, the other grand passage over the Alps to the Valais. The dress of the inhabitants of Crevola, whilst unremarkable in itself, was in such contrast to the residents of Domo d’Ossola, just one league away, that the Darcys could not help but comment.

“I have observed that the Crevolans of both sexes wore very coarse woolen cloathes, always of a brown or deep red colour, with thick, red stockings, whilst the dress of the residents of Domo is both varied and more elegant,” said Elizabeth.

“And art adorns even the smallest of buildings,” agreed Darcy, “even though this is but a small place. To my mind, this is the first truly Italian scene, though we have been travelling in Italy a good while. The border of Italy having been drawn and re-drawn so many times, there appears no improvement to its haphazardness, at least if one is to look at the inhabitants of the Simplon.”

“Domo was a fortified town at the base of Monte Domo, at the upper end of the valley of Ossola.” As they were descending from Crevola, Georgiana continued, “Domo probably gets its name from its being the first church in the Ossola Valley. In ancient times, Domo was a fief of the Bishop of Novarra, who built the castle seen now as a ruin. It was then subject to Milan, then Sardinia; at the end of the last century, it was reunited with Milan by Buonaparte as the Cisapline Republic, and, as we know, was returned to Austria in 1815 at the Congress of Vienna, along with Lombardy.”

The town of Domo was prosperous and busy. The ancient convent of the Jesuits was of black and white marble. The whole of the place was planted with vines, growing on stone trellises, and a pergola similarly covered led to the river, beyond which were lush pastures being grazed by cattle. An hill a small distance from the centre of town was of the name Calvary, and the distance from Domo to it was lined with picturesque, round chapels, each housing a life-sized figure from the life of Jesus, at which the pious knelt to pray.

As they descended into Domo, the towns-people pointed and repeatedly cried, “Eccolo! Inglese! Inglese!” The Darcys staid at a small inn at Domo, where the food was remarkably fresh and good, especially so after the days spent in the mountains where victuals had been perforce more scarce and usually of poor quality. That evening, they enquired of some fellow travellers how the Italians knew they were English by the sight of their equipage. An older gentleman by the name of Ponti answered,